What it's about
Do you believe in luck? Las Vegas showgirl Sherri DiPedi doesn't. But during a bizarre accident, she suffers a head injury and then strange, seemingly supernatural coincidences pile up which lead her to believe that she is the current incarnation of Lady Luck. It couldn't come at a better time, either. She suspects a family friend murdered her father in a move to take over his thriving business. Worse, she's worried that he's soon going to try to eliminate the last person standing in his way - Sherri.
But now, with luck on her side, along with the help of a charming cop she's just met, she's hoping to bring this man to justice. Can Sherri keep up with her new responsibilities to light up Las Vegas while she takes down her father's murderer? Is she really charmed, or is she just plain crazy? Make a wish, place your bet, and prepare to see just how powerful Lady Luck can be!
Lady Luck -- Chapter One
The coconuts arrived at La Casa Nostra Hotel on the same day that Sharon DiPedi suffered the head injury that left her immediately slightly concussed and eventually led her to believe that she was the current incarnation of Lady Luck. These two events seemed, at the time, unrelated. But as fate would have it, this would eventually prove to be a rather fortunate coincidence.
The real action, however, started a full eight hours earlier at one seventeen a.m. Miguel Rodriguez leaned against the balcony overlooking the gaming floor of La Casa Nostra, sipping on his beer and holding a tumbler of vodka in his other hand when he heard his girlfriend behind him.
“What're you doing?” she asked as she placed her hand on his back.
“Looking for hot babes,” he answered as he turned around. Looking her up and down, he smiled and said, “And now I've found one.”
“Stop,” she said, but she smiled.
The smile was all the encouragement he needed. He handed her the cocktail and said, “Seriously. You're so hot tonight that I'm getting a suntan.”
She giggled and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek.
Marina Martino sipped at her vodka and joined Miguel along the balcony. Though they were huddled close, their eyes roamed in different directions and it was Marina who saw the six and a half foot tall drag queen who was appropriately adorned in a dress that was a symphony of black satin and red sequins, gamely trailing a molting orange boa behind her size eleven thigh-high leather stilettos.
“Miguel. Look,” Marina said.
Her boyfriend followed her gaze as the drag queen stopped, placed a hand on her hip, and jutted her jaw toward a slot machine. But instead of playing the machine, she stood there, oozing drama by just simply looking at the machine.
“Yeah?” Miguel asked as he took a gulp from his beer bottle.
Just then, a twenty-something bride who was passing by the sequined drag queen flashed a demure grin at her. As she did, the queen, with regal elegance, bestowed a smile upon the young bride and simultaneously reached out the flame-painted nail of her index finger and touched the girl on the shoulder as she offered her congratulations. The girl's groom, meanwhile, turned to the slot machine that had just a moment ago seemingly transfixed the towering queen. Still holding his bride's hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill and slid it into the machine. After doing so, he nodded to his new wife, who pressed a button.
As the drag queen marched away, leaving the fluffy debris of the molting orange boa in her wake, the machine in front of the young couple emitted a series of bells and flashing lights that signaled what every gambler hopes for yet so seldom achieves. Jackpot.
“Yo,” Miguel said from his perch above. “That one of the new progressives we just put in?”
“Yeah,” Marina said dreamily, but she wasn't watching the young couple as they shouted with jubilance and people buzzed around them. She was transfixed, watching the weekday crowds shift ever so slightly to create a narrow canal that seemed to open of its own volition as people shuffled or shifted their weight as the statuesque queen strode across the floor. As the sparkle of sequins and satin passed, the opening closed just as quickly, with people milling and shuttling about, no one noticing as they stepped and squashed most of the tiny feathers under their expensive shoes.
“I can't believe that fuckin' thing hit already,” Miguel said, talking about the slot machine. “What the fuck is that?”
“Fabulous,” Marina whispered as the glass and gilded doors of the casino opened just as the queen reached the portal. As she stepped out into the electric Vegas night, a warm breeze rustled through the doors, wafting a small tuft of the boa, releasing one last bright orange feather.
“You think that's fabulous?” Miguel asked. “We gotta pay out fifty grand tonight.”
“Yeah,” Marina answered him, her eyes following the final feather as the breeze crossed with the puff of air from the ventilation system, lifting the feather as it cartwheeled up, defying gravity.
“Yeah,” Miguel said, looking down upon the young couple with an internal twinge so slight it couldn't even be called jealousy. “They do look happy.”
Like a gymnast in a space station, the feather circled, careened, and then galloped upward, caught in the subtle draughts of the air conditioning until Marina reached out her free hand and the feather did one last spiraling loop and landed in the middle of her palm.
“That's what we need here,” she said, her eyes moving from the captured feather back to Miguel. “More fabulousness. You know, that's what the sign coming into this city promises.”
With that, Miguel nodded to her momentarily forgotten cocktail and said, “You sure you're not just ready for another drink?”
“Well,” she scoffed, “absolutely to that.” Her one hand was outstretched with the feather tickling her palm, but she raised the glass in her other hand and Miguel obliged by raising his beer bottle and clinking it against her glass. They both drained their drinks.
“What'd we toast to?” Marina asked.
“To you getting all the fabulousness you want, baby,” he answered her. He wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her lips. And then, as he pulled back, he blew gently on her outstretched palm, tickling her skin and sending the feather back into the casino's atmosphere.
You can also get a signed copy of Lady Luck along with Mutual Holdings if you order directly from me.
The total cost for a signed copy of Mutual Holdings plus a signed copy of Lady Luck is $14.75 for US orders.
and 
$14.75 US residents
The total cost for a signed copy of Mutual Holdings plus a signed copy of Lady Luck is $18.75 for international orders.
Alternately:
Online: Barnes & Noble.
Amazon
Your local bookstore, Borders, or B&N -- They probably won't have a copy of this book in stock, but you can ask them for it and they can get a copy for you!
