Velvet

By Francie Klopotic

Divorced and living alone for the first time in her life, 40-something Velvet Riverstone has found serenity in her new hometown of Savannah, Georgia. A book reviewer and assistant manager of The Dirty Old Boot occult bookstore on River Street, she lives with one foot in the mundane world and the other planted right into the heart of the undergro

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pineapple Head Productions
• Release date: Aug 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088240632

Book preview

Francie Klopotic

Velvet

First published by Pineapple Head Productions 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Francie Klopotic

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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This book is dedicated to my husband, Dean Klopotic, who was patient with me as I spent countless hours both night and day in front of the computer, composing and editing this book.

You are the Nigel to my Velvet, and I’ll love you forever.

Contents

1. Friday, October 30

2. Saturday, October 31

3. Sunday, November 1

4. Monday, November 2

5. Tuesday, November 3

6. Wednesday, November 4

7. Thursday, November 5

8. Friday, November 6

9. Saturday, November 7

10. Sunday, November 8

11. Monday, November 9

12. Tuesday, November 10

13. Wednesday, November 11

14. Thursday, November 12

About the Author

1

Friday, October 30

Iflew through the air, but being airborne didn’t frighten me. It was the moment my body hit the water that scared me half to death.

The incessant ringing of a distant church bell clattered in my brain. Freezing waves slapped my face as I slipped below the churning, black surface of the Savannah River. It raged over and around me, tossing me in the pitch dark and ice-cold water. My body fell deeper into the swift currents. Terror hit me with a meaty fist while the frosty river pulled the last gasp of breath from my lungs.

I felt myself descend into darkness, drifting out on a retreating tide.

My ears filled with the sound of waterlogged trumpets calling out from heaven. Bright light pounded upon my closed eyelids. I gasped for air and thought for a moment that this was it.

I was dead.

The music grew louder until I awakened and bolted upright in bed. My eyes opened. The sun stood well above the horizon and burned through my window. The Beatles kept singing that one line over and over and over again.

All You Need is Love.

It was my ringtone. I scrambled for my phone and answered it.

Hello?

So, you’re still alive. It was Electra. I looked at my clock and realized I was late for work. Quite late.

Um, yeah. I was deep in a nightmare.

It must have been intense. We were about to call the police to go over there and check on you, she said. Are you coming in today?

I smiled at the smirk in her voice. Yes. Let me get dressed and I’ll head right down. See you in a few.

Bye, cupcake.

I clicked off the phone, pulled myself from the tangle of sheets and stumbled into the closet to find something suitable to wear. The weather report had called for yet another cold day. It was late October. Winter couldn’t be knocking at the door already, could it?

I glanced in the mirror and grabbed my bag. My makeup looked pretty good considering I’d slept in it. That new waterproof mascara had worked like a champ.

With swift fingers I tousled my hair and ran down the stairs.

Sam meowed at me from the bottom of the staircase. He headed straight to the kitchen. I followed him, reached in the cupboard for his food and filled his dish. I reached down and patted him on the head.

Be back later, lover boy.

He looked up at me then resumed eating. I grabbed my keys and headed out.

The clouds billowed puffy white in the sky, obscuring the sunlight and casting shadows. A cold breeze blew in from the east. The clock kept ticking. I knew walking to work was out of the question but driving didn’t seem like a smart choice, either. The parking lots near the shop were premium spots and very difficult to grab if you didn’t get down to River Street early enough.

I decided I’d take my chances.

I opened the gull wing door of my trusty old DeLorean, tossed myself into the driver seat and fired up the ignition.

Traffic was light and for that I was thankful. I drove the car like a seasoned jockey, rolling fast through the narrow streets and historic squares of Savannah. Propelled by some hard-driving rock and roll on the stereo, I was unstoppable.

Mark would have said it was irresponsible, my driving like this. I could hear him now, his Southern drawl spitting the words out at me like poisoned darts.

Only fools drive fast and treat their cars like Formula 1 machines, he would have said.

But why waste my time thinking of Mark? He’s my ex. I intended for him to stay in my rearview mirror for good.

In no time I flew up Bay and turned down River Street. The road wound down behind the ancient warehouse buildings and onto the riverfront.

The first parking lot was full so I headed to the next. I spied one empty spot in the second lot and took it, skidding into the parking space just in time to beat a van full of tourists coming in behind me.

The van moved past my parked car and back out onto River Street, the woman behind the wheel grimacing at her lost parking opportunity. She would have to find somewhere else to unleash her cargo.

A Maersk container ship puttered along the river before me on its way into port. I watched it slide by, its massive diesel engine pumping and pushing the vessel up river. I sat in my car and watched the boat glide past. The multicolored containers on board glistened in the sunlight.

As usual, I wondered what cargo sat packed inside those bright boxes.

The few clouds I’d encountered outside my townhouse were gone. Stark morning sunshine had broken all over Savannah by the time I got out of my car. The air was filled with diesel exhaust. I turned to look up River Street in the direction of the shop. The OPEN sign was lit and a few folks walked in the door.

The cobblestones threatened to catch my feet as I jogged over them. I crossed River Street and hopped onto the sidewalk. The scent of pralines made my mouth water. The sound of jazz music poured out of a new bistro that had opened earlier in the week.

Charlemange’s, I think it was called.

The strong, intoxicating aroma of fresh brewed coffee hit my nose, putting a kick into my step. I bent down and reached into my bag for my phone.

There were no emails, no messages, nothing. I put the phone away and looked up in time to see two gloved hands reach out and grab me by the shoulders, stopping me in my tracks as I bulldozed my way down the sidewalk.

He seemed to have emerged from nowhere, this man. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, his body wrapped tight in a coat and scarf against a very cold late October morning. I was so startled I almost dropped my bag into the gutter.

Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I grabbed his arm for balance. I didn’t see you there.

He grinned, patted me on the back and kept walking. The encounter happened in the blink of an eye, but it shook me.

A sexy fragrance of spice and musk lingered in the air. I turned to look for the stranger but he was gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

Up ahead, I saw Jane smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall outside of The Dirty Old Boot. She wore her dreadlocks wrapped in a blue and orange scarf that stood a foot high on her head. She looked vibrant as always, and the sight of her made my heart smile. I trotted up to her and glanced down at my watch.

Jane blew a huge cloud of clove-scented smoke away from us where the wind could carry it onward. She snatched my sleeve and glued her eyes onto mine, staring into my soul. Hoodoo priestesses have that certain way about them.

Good morning, Velvet. How’s it going?

I’m late, I said. I kissed her on the cheek and made my way inside.

Electra stood behind the counter, eating a piece of cake. She looked up at me as I entered the store.

Thanks for deciding to make it in today. She patted the corner of her mouth with a pink napkin. I didn’t want to tell her, but there was lavender icing on her chin.

I’m so sorry I’m late.

You know I don’t care, she said.

I had a nightmare.

Electra waved a bejeweled hand at me. Velvet, you know I don’t need an explanation. UPS arrived early this morning. There are a few boxes in back that need to be opened. Oh, and Silverlight Press sent us a review copy of a new spell book. I guess you’ll be busy for a bit.

Thanks. I headed to the back.

The Dirty Old Boot saw its previous life as a cobbler shop. Electra decided to keep the weather-beaten sign affixed above the doorway. The interior was pretty much the same dark, brick-walled décor of its original design. It looked old and musty, but the shop was clean and filled with the scent of Nag Champa.

Tourists didn’t quite know what to expect when they entered our doors so we had a stack of brochures and tour maps at the counter to help folks find their way. Right inside the doorway, nearest the checkout counter, we sold books about Savannah and the ghosts that haunt the city. Just past the register area, we sold books on the occult and hosted meetings and classes in our back room. Locals knew what we were about. Savannah’s magical folks knew to come here when they needed a candle, poppet, or crystal.

Word of mouth kept The Dirty Old Boot hopping night and day.

I entered my private little space, shut the door and then turned on my computer. The Mac fired up in a matter of seconds and the screen glowed with an image of the Andromeda galaxy.

The stockroom’s fluorescent bulbs burned dim in varying shades of green, casting an eerie glow in the cavernous room. Shipping boxes full of new goodies sat on the desk next to my computer.

It was always fun to see what Electra ordered for the shop. It was extra fun to be the first one to handle the new merchandise.

A little box grabbed my attention. I reached for it and set it on the counter away from the others. It was a heavy little thing. I grabbed a box cutter and sliced the tape open with a hiss. In moments my hands were full of gemstones. There were loads of them. No wonder the little box weighed so much.

I pulled the crystals out and checked them against the manifest. We had run out of rose quartz hearts last week so Electra ordered several dozen. Here they were.

There were big pink hearts to be worn as a pendant, medium sized pink hearts to put in a pocket, and best of all there were the little pink hearts with tiny red velvet bags in which to carry them.

I put the box on a shelf next to a tray of tourmaline chunks.

There must be love in the air, I thought. Why the run on romance stones?

It was then I remembered that Halloween was one day away. Witchy people know Halloween as a powerful day for making magick, and witchy people are our best customers.

The Silverlight book sat next to the keyboard. The title of the book was Sun Spells. It was a compendium of solar magick, something I’d never seen before in any form, and it had a pretty cover. Intrigued, I picked it up and settled down in my chair for a nice, long read.

I reached for the mouse and chose an online ambient station. Dreamy space sounds filtered in through the speakers and I dove into another dimension, sun spell book in hand. I read for what felt like an eternity until I heard a commotion coming from the sales floor.

I got up and looked out the door. A group of eight middle-aged women stood in front of the counter, going on and on about Electra’s appearance, some going so far as to ask my boss if she was the local drag queen Miss Anthropic. Granted, Electra’s large frame and larger than life persona are fabulous, but she is every bit a woman.

Just ask her wife, Jane.

Is that your own hair?

Where do you find such amazing clothes?

Who does your makeup?

I slinked back just inside the doorway and chuckled. Today, Electra’s outfit was a postmodern Ziggy Stardust muumuu and silver go-go boots with thick, square heels. Her hair wore streaks of fire engine red, her eyes and lips made up in the same shade. Electra is such a beautiful human being, but the poor thing gets more strange stares and questions than I do with my Goth clothes and purple hair.

When I returned to my desk, I turned up the speakers and closed my eyes to drown out the noises on the sales floor. I took three deep breaths to ground myself then picked up the book I’d been reading. Just as I opened the book to my dog-eared page, I heard yet another voice at the door. It was Jane’s.

Hey, Boo. How’s it going?

I turned around in my chair to face her. Okay, I think. Want to sit down?

She took an empty chair to my right.

Steven came in when we opened this morning. He was looking for you.

Oh god, not again.

Yeah, again. I told him you had to run an errand, Jane said. He said he had some fare money to collect, so I don’t think he’ll be back today. He said something about the rent being due.

When will that boy get a real job? I mean, driving a bicycle rickshaw is cool and all, but I’m sure it doesn’t come close to paying a real salary.

Jane smiled and patted my knee. He prefers to call it a pedicab, you know. But that’s not why I’m back here. I had a dream about you last night. She changed the topic on a dime, cleared her throat then looked off into space.

I knew about her dreams. They usually came true, and most of the time they were of unpleasant situations. After the nightmare I’d had this morning, I braced myself for what was about to come.

So, what happens? Do I die in a plane crash? Do I burst into flames on River Street?

Girl, you’re crazy, she said. No, it’s nothing like that. I just had a dream that you met someone.

What? You know I’m not looking for anyone. And besides, I don’t need a man in my life to make me happy. You’ve seen the kind of men I attract. I’ve got a kid half my age chasing me down. What does that say about me?

I know, I know, but this is different. It’s not so much needing a man as it is being paired up with someone who will bring out the best in you. Jane sat up straight and leaned forward with a whisper. I saw him, Velvet. Damn it, girl. He’s a looker.

Don’t tell me what he looks like, Jane. That’d be no good.

I meant what I said. The last thing I needed was a description of some phantom, no matter how beautiful it might be, to plant itself in my brain. I was doing good to keep myself grounded in reality. I didn’t need to trip myself up over a fantasy.

I looked at Jane. If this dream of yours does come true, you know I’d prefer to be surprised. Besides, only your bad dreams have a history of coming to pass.

Yes. I know. You’re right about that. No one can pull the wool over on you. I love that about you, she said. But still, take this anyway.

She gave me the paper sack she’d been holding in her hand.

What’s this? I put my fingers inside the sack and felt a book.

Just a little something Electra and I had lying around the house. It’s a spell book. Something we think you should take home and read. Maybe you can open yourself up to that man who is seeking you.

But I didn’t ask to be found. I’m pretty satisfied with my life as it is. I caught myself looking down at the bag in my hand.

Don’t fool yourself, Velvet. We can see it. We know you’re lonely. There’s nothing wrong with having a friend.

I can be myself with you two just fine, I said. You are two of my best friends on earth.

Jane laughed. I don’t think you’re following me. What I mean is this. You need sex. You know it. I can feel that need all over you, and I know that there’s someone here in town looking for you. I saw him. Do my dreams ever lie?

They never did, and as much as I hated to admit it she was right about the sex thing. After my divorce last year I may have had a few orgasms here and there, but Bob my battery-operated boyfriend was no substitute for a hot, wet tongue.

Okay, I’ll look at it tonight. I put the package on my desk.

Promise? It would mean a lot to us.

Of course, I said. I promise.

Jane kissed my forehead then headed back out to the sales floor. When she left I realized that the tourists had left, too. The place recovered from the noise and it was so silent I could hear the rock fountain gurgling in the far corner of the shop.

I picked up the book I’d been reading and fell back in between its pages. Time seemed to stop. The spells and sun lore captivated me. I sat there studying and taking notes on the book when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

The book went flying through the air.

That’s what I like to see, Electra said. A book that will absorb you. It should be a hit with our customers.

Damn it, you scared the hell out of me. Where’d that book go? I looked around the room.

Electra walked over and retrieved it from behind a shelf.

What a throw. You should try out for the baseball team.

Funny, I said. What’s up?

Lunchtime, that’s what’s up. We’re thinking of walking up to Market Center for pizza. Want to join us?

Who’s going to man the shop?

You mean woman the shop, right? Electra laughed so hard her boobs shook. We’re locking up for the hour. Won’t be a big deal. What do you say? Join us.

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe Dee would be at work today, slinging dough at Pep-O-Roni’s. It’d been awhile since I had seen my dreadlocked pal. He made the best pizzas in town.

My mouth watered. Okay, you’re on.

We walked up to Bay Street and headed for Market Center.

People stared. It wasn’t every day you saw three forty-something women in such a strange assortment of costume. Here we were, a Goth, an African princess and an overweight female Bowie. We were the walking definition of a motley crew.

When we approached Pep-O-Roni’s a loud whistle flew out from the doorway. I looked up and there was Dee in his standard tie-dye tee, waving with abandon. I waved back. He turned and headed back to the other side of the counter.

At least he was still alive. Some folks you meet in life, you just never know how long they’ll be with you.

But the issue at hand was not my pizza-making friend.

I knew this impromptu lunch was going to be a tag-team event. Electra and Jane succeeded in getting me out of the building. Now they were going to discuss my perceived need of male companionship. I knew these women better than I knew my own family.

We found a table and seated ourselves when Electra opened her mouth to speak.

Jane gave me the book, I said. I told her I’d look at it tonight.

Electra touched her hair with her fingertips. Her hair stood straight on end. I could never get my hair to do that, even when I used white school glue.

We’re just trying to be helpful, she said.

I know, and I appreciate it.

If you want us to work a spell on your behalf, all you have to do is tell us, Jane said. You know we’re more than willing.

Thank you, but I think I’ll just let things fall as they may.

We ordered our lunches and the food arrived lightning fast. The pizza sauce oozed like lava when I bit into my slice. This was quite simply the best pizza to be had in all of Savannah.

Amazing, isn’t it? Jane licked her fingers.

None better, I do declare. Electra reached into her bra to retrieve a fallen piece of pepperoni.

I’ve told Dee a thousand times he needs to bottle and sell this sauce, I said. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious anywhere but here.

A group of people gathered just outside the doorway behind us. The scuffling of shoes against concrete filled the space with an ambient din. The sound of jangling coins pierced the air. Jane stared over my shoulder and cleared her throat.

We should investigate the party outside when we’re done.

I looked back at the congregation of folks standing in the open area between the two buildings. People were filling the space at a rapid pace. The erotic Middle Eastern music and sudden scent of Nag Champa incense were intoxicating. I figured there must be some belly dancing involved.

We finished our lunches, paid the bill then hurried out to see what was going on.

Just as I’d suspected, there was a three-woman belly dance troupe doing some tribal moves in gorgeous gold and silver attire. Their coin hip scarves and metallic bangle bracelets tinkled and shimmered in the sunlight as the women danced.

Bare feet and coin anklets moved in sensual time to the music. I caught myself moving with the sounds, my eyes watching the dancer’s feet against the swell of spectators. The intensity of the music grew. The coins jangled louder and the curvy bodies moved faster. I was so caught up in the scene that I almost shrieked when Jane gasped and grabbed my arm, shaking me from my reverie.

Velvet, that guy is looking at you, she said. Look. Right there.

Don’t point, I said. Don’t do that. What guy? There are a million people here right now.

That one. She nodded her head toward the spectators across from where we stood. Over there. Wearing the long black coat.

I strained my eyes but all I could see was a sea of faces, and lots of long black coats.

How do you know he’s looking at me, whoever he is, wherever he is? My sudden curiosity surprised me and I felt magick in the air. The air crackled between the three of us as we stood there.

Jane leaned in and spoke right into my ear. I know it because I can see his eyes on you. That’s how I know.

Oh, Jane. Stop it. Please don’t tease me like that. An electric shock sent chills up my legs and I felt a pair of unseen eyes burn into me.

Shh, I’m not teasing.

Just like that the magick faded and several black-coat-wearing folks in the crowd began to disperse.

Well, damn that, Jane said. He’s gone. He was just there.

Probably a good thing, too, since she’s not interested. Electra picked her teeth with her fingernail.

Up until this moment I wasn’t interested, but now I was intrigued. The thought of a man checking me out made me smile inside. When was the last time a guy did that? Steven and Dee notwithstanding, there had been a true lack of attention from the male gender for quite a while.

Jane, Electra and I headed back to work. For the rest of the day I thought about this mystery man. Who was he? What did he look like? And what in the world did he want with me?

Lucky for me, Jane didn’t discuss this with me further. Instead, the three of us passed the hours away chatting up the latest River Street gossip while straightening the stockroom.

I hear there’s a new bistro just up the street from here. Have you heard of it? Electra shifted a stack of books to the other end of the shelving unit.

I saw it this morning as I was walking in, I said. If the coffee is as good as it smelled, then the Gnarly Oak has some steep competition.

They’ve needed competition from the start, Jane said. "In fact,