Plot Summary:When enigmatic Angela Moreaux, a woman he thought he had exorcised from his brain, calls and asks for his help, reluctant, but unable to resist, a hedge fund owner and an expert in stock market manipulation, Juan MacBride flies out to Moscow. On his arrival a bitter disappointment awaits him as he finds out that Angela fails to show up for their meeting in the Ritz. Instead, Juan is greeted by an elderly Swiss gentleman, who passes a mysterious note to him embarking Juan on a journey of discoveries that he wishes he never made...
Book Excerpt: Episode 84 (Howl)
Past the caged candles and potted blood-red cyclamens, a well-groomed young man briskly walks up the stairs of the Palazzo Paruta Hotel. He picks up his keys and proceeds to his exclusive Royal Suite. In the Venetian Rococo style interior of his room, he sinks into an elegantly upholstered sofa and bewitched, stares at the golden flames hungrily eating away crusty logs in the fireplace.
It’s been a week since Dmitry’s arrival to Venice, yet his flesh inspired quest for Angela Moreaux has been painfully slow. To be exact, it has not moved an inch since Jaques’s call informing him about her likely whereabouts. To the utter disappointment of them both, none of the hospitality residences given by Mr. Moreaux had her name on their guest lists.
Despite this obvious fact, something told Dmitry that she was here, within his reach, just a grasp away. Absent yet strangely present… As predators sense their prey, so he could feel her radiating presence in this mysterious city of masks and dark shadows... at least in the form of short, matter of fact emails regularly sent by Peter Knaus, updating Dmitry on the progress of their ‘witch hunt’ on Kazimir Stankevich…
Feeling drowsy, Dmitry stretches out on the sofa. With eyes closed, he momentarily pictures the curvy lines of Angela’s voluptuously seductive body lingering to him, her hand running through his hair… He sees her bright crimson lips dangerously close, barely touching his mouth… Suddenly fueled by the vivid imagery of his imagination, a dark longing stirs deep within him. He feels the burning heat of her breath. Inhaling her diabolically alluring scent, he stares into her cabalistic eyes as her hand slowly slides down between his legs.
Opening his mouth he utters a lingering howl and wakes up. Sweat on his forehead, breathing heavily, he places himself in a seated position and comes to his senses.
“Fuck it all!!!” He swears, grabs his coat and walks out into the rain-drizzling night.