She smoothed on black opera gloves and slipped a Dior sunburst ring onto her right index finger.Ī variety of guests had assembled downstairs. * There isn’t anyone special special here tonight, and I won’t need to change for dinner.* At that moment the gong rang for cocktails. It was an off the shoulder, floor sweeping number in bright scarlet, which exposed much of her upper torso a revenge dress of the first order.

She sipped her hot toddy pensively, put the glass down half empty, and turned to the mirror to check her cocktail outfit. What if the lake freezes over? What will become of the Boxing Day Regatta?* You’ve definitely gone too far this year, Mistress Kou. * Hard and thick is good on a boi on a hot summer night,* Olympe thought, * But this is too much. It was of course Cowley Court, the extensive rural base of the fabulously rich Lord Yuzu, who had the eccentric hobby of living a Jazz Age life styled as a sort of a Downton Abbey/Jeeves and Wooster crossover. Olympe Viola Reese, sometime socialite and kuudere detective, watched the storm through the mullioned window of her first floor room (2nd if you’re American) in a luxurious country house in the Mellow West. The snow was falling hard, thick and fast. Mistress Kou had set the weather to Blizzard.

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