The title says it all. Page 99 from the paperback edition of my first novel, Jazz.
She looked happy as she danced, twisting and twirling her waist and hips, and bending her legs as if to ride on the sonic waves of the trumpet. It was as if she was controlling the rhythm, as if her movements were the driving force behind that jazz song.
When the tune ended, Amber smiled, a strange, crazy smile, and said, “Will you take me home? Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.” Continue reading →