Friday, May 23, 2025

Hello one and all. Monday will be Memorial Day in the USA. We generally celebrate the whole weekend, so I’m highlighting it today, in honor of those who lost their lives ensuring that we could enjoy wholesome fun and togetherness, among other freedoms.
Now, I welcome you back to our new serial story, The Dance of Discord. We’ve arrived at episode-6. Here are links to the previous episodes 1: Afoot, 2: A Note , 3: A Code, 4: A Door, and 5: A Tap.
Once again, this post does double duty. Part of the episode was inspired by a submission to the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge. The door photo is by blogger and poet, Willow Willers.
Who suggested the random reader things for this installment? This post is also double for poetry because today I’m spotlighting Colleen Chesebro. You’ll find poems and other treasures at her blog. Colleen‘s things are crocheted doily, hairpin, and Jell-O.
We now return to the ballroom, where rhythmic tapping combined with the language of fans to create the beginning of a puzzle for our young agent, Milo Quick. Dutchess Felina Gattone is just as puzzled. Now to the serial story.
Dance of Discord

6. A Cipher
Delicately sculpted topiaries flanked the door that opened to the conservatory. My gaze turned wistfully to that partial exit. However, I feared to leave Milo Quick’s side.
Aqua-colored crystal beads glittered as the daughter of the Colombian ambassador shifted in her chair. She placed her champagne glass on the crocheted doily on the small table beside her chair. Who could blame the young woman for feeling ignored? Sensing her movement, Milo Quick twisted around in his seat and briefly returned his seemingly listless gaze to Señorita Silva’s pretty face. However, behind the careless ease of his posture, Milo was isolating the faint clatter of the fan from the sound of their conversation and the other noises in the large room.
“Did anyone ever accuse you of staring, Mr. Quick?” Olivia Silva bantered, inclining her head toward the woman across the room.

For an instant Milo’s stare switched back to the fascinating face of Miss Zola Jouret. Then his eyes hurriedly swept the ballroom, pausing involuntarily at the scarlet splendor of the dignitary from Turkey.
“I beg your pardon señorita,” he apologized contritely, but failed to suppress a chuckle. “It’s just that the Turkish ambassador does resemble a barn on fire, don’t you think?”
“Dutchess Gattone, your friend really is incorrigible. As if I didn’t know who caught his eye. Is it any wonder why I sometimes do not sit with my beautiful friend? Every man is mesmerized by her extraordinary eyes,” the young woman told me before turning to Milo. “For your humor, Mr. Quick, I will forgive your looks of longing at my friend,” Señorita Silva giggled.
Milo darted another glance toward Miss Jouret. The amber-eyed woman was still talking. Her face was animated, yet the fan continued the rhythmic tapping on the arm of her chair. It seemed to have nothing to do with her conversation. However, it was neither the language of fans, nor was it an unconscious nervous tic.
Was her tapping a coincidence? I wondered. Milo’s expression is enough to tell me that he thinks the tapping means something. I’m certain that he understands that much.
Was it Morse code — the call of one operator to another? He glanced at me, eyes briefly widening, then he went on talking in that affected laziness which he used so well as a disguise.
“Odd, isn’t it…” Milo picked up his comment about the Turkish dignitary. “The smaller the country, the more color it adds to the uniforms of its diplomats? Notice the English ambassador. He is modestly dressed in sedate colors, as befits the representative of a great nation. But looking at the countries based on how powerful they are, their uniforms get more colorful as there’s less political power. However, I dare say the heart that beats beneath a bright yellow sash is as stout as the one underneath an unembellished black tuxedo.”
His ears pricked at the insistent calling of the fan. Then the answer finally came, although I would never have realized it, but for the minute tension I saw in Milo’s shoulders. The answer took the unexpected form of a violent sneeze. The vociferous outburst came from a row of chairs directly behind us. Señorita Silva jumped at the sudden loud sound. Her abrupt movement made me jump also.

“It startled me,” she explained with a nervous giggle as she adjusted a hairpin in her elaborate coiffure.
“There is a draft from the conservatory,” a man’s voice grumbled apologetically. “Don’t you ladies feel it too? No? Well, if you’ll excuse me…”
Milo glanced back languidly and stifled a yawn. The speaker was Adam Adler, a brilliant young American lawyer who was employed by the German embassy in an advisory capacity. Adler had spent ten years in Germany, where he established influential connections.
Just then the rhythmical tapping of Miss Jouret’s fan changed. Her voice held a flutter of gaiety. Yet her ivory fan tapped a different pattern.
As if summoned by having been discussed, the Turkish diplomat paused in his circuit of the room and spoke to Señorita Silva. Though Milo laughed pleasantly at some remark the man made, his listless eyes roved aimlessly across the ballroom. Milo exhaled a relieved sigh when the man asked Olivia to dance.

Barely audible, Milo whispered to himself as he tried to match the taps to Morse code. While his expression did not show it, I knew him well enough to sense his tension. He murmured that it didn’t make sense.
Does she wonder if he is onto her? I wondered when the keen glance of Miss Jouret briefly returned to him, her amber eyes aglow while her fan rattled on in the code.
Milo was still working out what it spelled. A light of partial comprehension flashed in his eyes. He muttered about codes within code. I knew that he had just tucked something away in a corner of his mind, something to which he would later find a match.
The soft clatter of the fan against the arm of the chair ran on after that. However, it seemed to be ordinary idle tapping, rather than any pattern or code.
The Turkish diplomat and returned Señorita Silva to her seat. He bowed himself away, no doubt in search of a partner for the next dance.
“May I bring you a Jell-O?” Milo offered her after a moment. “I dare say that’s the finest food invention of the 19th century. I could get you an ice if you prefer.”
“A Jell-O would be divine,” responded Oliva. “When you come back, I shall reward you by presenting you to Miss Jouret. You will find her charming. Besides, that Englishman, Mr. Blake, has monopolized her long enough.”
Bowing low, Milo left Olivia Silva. Uncomfortable with crowds or with strangers — let alone the combination of the two, I followed him. We had barely moved when the American lawyer, Adam Adler stumbled as he passed in front of Miss Jouret. He righted himself, looked at her as if embarrassed, and paused to greet her. His compliments were so effusive, that I had to wonder whether he had deliberately stumbled as an excuse to speak with her.

“Lawsy, if it isn’t Miss Jouret!” he exclaimed. “I’m delighted to see you here. I understood you would not be able to attend.”
Their hands met in a friendly clasp. With a nod of excuse to the Englishman she rose and moved away. When Adler shook her hand, a folded slip of paper passed from Mr. Adler to Zola Jouret. She tugged at her silk glove as if to adjust it, but she pushed the note, unread, inside her glove.
I glanced back in time to see her amber eyes narrow as she watched Milo leave the room. I was sure that she knew Milo Quick had recognized the tapping of her fan as a coded message. She looked worried.
Miss Jouret couldn’t know whether or not Milo had deciphered her code. However, she knew he had intercepted it. Did that make the situation more dangerous or less? I supposed that depended on what the perplexing message meant.
If Milo couldn’t figure it out, they would likely proceed with whatever they were up to as though he knew what the message was. His disadvantage doubled.
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End Episode 6
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An uncoded message, and then a note secretly passed from the American lawyer (with German affiliations) to the enigmatic Belgian beauty. Was Mr. Adler the intended recipient of the Morse code? Or are even more secrets being passed through Miss Zola Jouret? Into what danger have our heroes stumbled in the Dance of Discord?
♣ ♣ ♣
The random reader things have led to several characters by now. I thought a “key” would be useful. Plus, it serves as a refresher. Additional characters and historic persons have been mentioned, but they haven’t appeared “on camera” so to speak. The following list is in order of appearance.
A Quick Reference to Who’s Who

Duchess Felina Gattone: Narrator of the story. She understands many languages, but is not able to speak them.
Stuart Drummond: US Secret Service Bureau chief, Milo’s boss.
Milo Quick: Young agent and hero of the story. He inherited the mansion (but not money) with the provision that he must keep Felina near him.
Espert: US field agent on assignment in/around Spain. We aren’t likely to see much of him.
Gideon: Milo’s butler/major domo.
Baron Rogier Dessain: A Belgian ambassador.
Enno: Dessain’s secretary.
Miss Zola Jouret: Mysterious Belgian woman with amber eyes and high-level connections.
Lord Elgin Quick: (Deceased) Earl of Seaford and British ambassador who retired to the US. Milo’s uncle and Felina’s benefactor.
Señorita Olivia Silva: Daughter of the ambassador from Colombia and friend of Zola Jouret.
Adam Adler: Young American lawyer employed by the German embassy in an advisory capacity. He has influential connections.
♣
Stay tuned for the seventh installment of Dance of Discord. Friendly comments are welcome. Hugs!
♣ ♣ ♣
Of course, here’s the obligatory shameless self-promotion.
A Peril in the Vines

Universal Purchase Links
A Peril in the Vines
e-book: relinks.me/B0DS4G7RSD
Paperback: relinks.me/B0DS69GJDV
A Medium’s Peril full series link: relinks.me/B0CG2SXX24
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This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2025 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
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I can’t remember the title, but I read another book fairly recently that mentioned the use of fans for communicating. I never knew it was a thing until then. Thanks for the key, Teagan – refreshers never hurt!
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Hi, Teri. Fanology is pretty obscure. I’m working on a nonfiction book that is about it and the language of flowers. The fanology section is a lot smaller… it’s been hard to get verifiable information. A lot of what’s out there just repeats the same small amount of info. I’ve only come across a couple of fiction works that include it. However, it’s an elegant and intriguing detail of the past. Thanks for visiting. Hugs.
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There was a delay in my reading this (beach week) but what a turn of events! Fan-tapping as Morse code! Messages being slipped by hand. And what did the Morse code say?
Can’t wait for the answer!
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No worries, Noelle. I decided to let my posting schedule be irregular with this serial — not quite as stressful that way.
Ah…. the beach. I hope the weather was good. It’s been so many years, decades really, since I’ve been to a beach that it seems like a different lifetime. Well, actually, it was a different lifetime at that. 🙂 More on the codes coming next time. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.
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We lucked out – sun and temps in the high 70s or low 80s every day. We also were lucky that low tide was in the morning, so the waves were fairly gentle so we could get out to swim. High tide meant winds picking up and much bigger waves.
We came home to a week of chilly temps and rain – unusual for here!
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This was an exciting episode! Thank you for the who’s who list.
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Thanks, Jennie — and you’re welcome. I realize that as the cast of characters increases it gets more difficult to keep up with who’s who, particularly with episodes a week apart.
I loved your Memorial Day post. Big hugs.
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It does, so the list was much appreciated. And, I’m so glad you liked my Memorial Day blog post. Hugs! ❤️
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You are always welcome dear Teagan. Waiting for the plot to thicken. You too have a sparkling week ahead ❤️😊❤️😊❤️
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A terrific episode, Teagan. Lots of intrigue. Enjoy the holiday tomorrow. I’m posting my review of A Peril in the Vines on Tuesday when everyone is back.
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I’m happy you enjoyed it, Robbie. I also hope you loved A Peril in the Vines. That’s very considerate of you to think of the holiday timing. If you need any images or anything, let me know. Wishing you a brilliant new week. Hugs.
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I’ll email you
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What an intriguing story and the plot is thickening very well Teagan. Your images are beautiful. Happy Memorial Day.
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Thank you kindly, Kamal. We’ll see what “bubbles up to the top of the pot” (or plot) in this story. Have a sparkling new week. Hugs.
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I think I’ll remain in ignorance of the taste! 😳😁
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LOL, I would have to be starving to try a gelatin dish that had meat in it. Otherwise, I’m fond of sweet fruity Jell-O. It’s nice and cooling on a hot day — and wobbles in a fun way. 😀
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An intriguing story, Teagan, and I love your fascinating characters.
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Welcome, Eugi! Many thanks for reading and commenting. I’m happy you enjoyed it. Hugs.
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My pleasure, Teagan.
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Never had Jell-O whatever it is 😁 great episode Teagan, as is usual! Looking forward to the next one!
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Hi, Fraggle. Oh, this turned interesting. I confirmed that Jell-O was invented in the late 1800s with Colleen sent it, but it’s such an ordinary thing (now) here that I didn’t think about it being called by another name elsewhere. Here and in Canada, it’s one of those products that came to be known by its brand name — like a facial tissue being called a Kleenex.
I see that even the basic name is probably spelled differently there — gelatine. You might call it a “jelly”. Anyhow from the 1890s into the 1920s and beyond, gelatin (the spelling in this neck of the woods) was a big craze, as a sweet, and then in vegetable and even meat concoctions. Have a good weekend. Hugs.
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I loved the part about wanting “a Jello”! As if that is some gourmet specialty! I’m a big fan of Jello, and so it was fun to see it worked in like this.
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Back then, it was, Maureen — or at least it was fashionable. I didn’t stop to think how most of the country (including me) had forgotten about Jell-O until a few months during COVID when I could hardly obtain much of anything in the way of groceries. I rediscovered how much I used to like Jell-O, and also tuna salad. Those food friendships have remained renewed. 😀
Anyhow, I’m happy you enjoyed the episode. Hugs.
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Jello and tuna salad! Good eating! I’m guessing we rediscovered all kinds of things in the days of COVID, and that was good but I still wouldn’t want to repeat them!
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Right. Those were bad times.
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This so intriguing and deliciously exciting. The Morse code by fan is a touch of genius. Oh! I love all your characters! Great writing Teagan.💜💜🌻
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Thanks, Willow. I’ve always tried to show (if subtly) that danger or excitement doesn’t have to mean guns blazing. I appreciate your feedback about the characters. Big hugs.
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Morse code delivered by the fluttering of a fan ..ingenious Teagan…xx
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You’re too kind, Carol. Thanks very much. Hugs to you and Shadow!
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Morse fan code is so clever. I learned Morse code when I was young. I forgot it now. Great episode.
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Thanks, Tim. I remember something from when I was about 12 that detailed Morse code — it must have been at school. I sort of tried to learn it, but gave up quickly. Like written music, it was too much like math… and math does not compute in the twistings of my brain. 😀 Hugs.
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My dad was a ham radio operator and wanted me to get a ham license. The first thing you have to learn is Morse code. I was not interested in being a ham and gave up after a while.
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The plot thickens and has many undercurrents. Which way will they flow? You have me eagerly awaiting the next installment. (K)
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Thanks very much, Kerfe. LOL, even I don’t know which way these undercurrents will go. I think someone left “sewer system” as a reader-thing. If it goes bad, well… 😀 I hope you enjoy the rest of the long weekend. Hugs.
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Going underground is always a good option. (K)
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I LOVE the Morse code delivered via fan tapping! This is a great line: “It’s just that the Turkish ambassador does resemble a barn on fire, don’t you think?”
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Thanks, Liz. LOL, luckily for Milo, the man and his bright red uniform weren’t close enough to hear. Milo’s “disguise” as a dandy might get him into trouble. 🙂 Hugs.
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You’re welcome, Teagan.
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A wonderful read Teagan. Edge of the seat stuff. My Dad worked as a telegraph operator in the post office and knew morse code. He didn’t use a fan though.
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Hi, Brian. Thats cool and interesting about your dad. LOL, too bad he didn’t use a fan — that would have been a great family story. Just kidding. I appreciate you reading and commenting. Hugs.
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Maybe Mum did 😁
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Oh! PS, my Doors post is done, and scheduled for tomorrow. I decided to post it on Art Gowns!
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Yay! I’ve been keeping an eye out for it. Thanks for letting me know.
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Excellent! The tension is building and the plot thickens.
Miss Jouret is fascinating. The painting Au Bal is stunning.
Willow’s door feels very of the time you are writing.
A fab episode, all around, thank you Teagan!
Hugs!
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Thanks for your great feedback, Resa. I really appreciate it. Hugs (and purrs) winging back to you and Misha from the Scoobies and me. ❤
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Hugs flying around the globe, the long way to you & the Scoobies ! They gather intrigue on their way… to go with your serial.
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Hahaha!
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Teagan, you are a master at creativity! I loved how you used my suggested words. I enjoy these stories so much. Your stories help us find the joy of reading through these stories!! Thank you, my friend. I’m so touched. 🥹 💖
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You’re welcome — and thank *you* Colleen. Your things were perfect for the era. Thanks again for sharing from your blog. I hope you have a wonderful holiday weekend. Hugs.
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Thank you, Teagan. I’m working on my genealogy! So far everyone is from Russia!
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Oh! That’s interesting. Did you do a DNA test? I did one a couple of years ago. They failed to mention in the product description that it wouldn’t show anything for Native American blood — and that was the part I wanted to know about.
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Yes. I don’t know much about my mother’s or dad’s family, so I thought I would start investigating. I want to create a book so my kids and grands know something about where they came from. My ex’s family have Seminole in them. You can only tell in one of my daughters. My oldest daughter and son look like me, with the light hair and skin. I wonder how you find out if you have Native American in you?
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I wouldn’t know where to start, without a person as reference. Particularly since many of them kept a low profile once the reservations started being established. You probably already know to check with the genealogy database the Mormons set up (I wouldn’t know how). Other than that… I have no guess.
Mine were Cherokee, so there’s a little more available for them. Depending on how it’s counted. Organizations like Indian Health Service (part of HHS) require an ancestor to be listed on a particular roll from the 1800s before they allow “Indian preference” in hiring. By their standard, I would only be 1/16th because it was all on one side of my family. Anyone else would call it 1/8th. For the rest of that side of the family, it’s pretty obvious, especially in summer. Not so for me. There’s hardly any pigment in my skin. That said, I’m not sure if any would show up on my DNA anyway — even if the test was set up to detect it. Apparently Native Americans don’t tend to give up that information — so they can’t test for it. A different test might detect different things though.
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Oh, how interesting. Thanks for sharing what you know. I’ll let you know if I find out anything helpful.
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This has all the ingredients to be a suspenseful novel, Teagan!
Have a gracious Memorial Day.
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Thanks, GP. That was the intention, years ago. This is a sort of rewrite of an old story that I wasn’t satisfied with. The “things” are making it completely new. Okay — your assignment, should you choose to accept it… Appropriate to the era of around 1905 to 1909 (I’ve never set the exact year of this story)… can you suggest: 1 food, 1 thing that has an odor/fragrance, and 1 thing that makes a sound? (I’m low on random things…)
A blessed holiday to you as well. Hugs.
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That’s when hot dogs and coca cola (w/ cocaine) made the scene, but I can’t picture it in that ball room! lol Jasmine and wax cylinder voices and music.
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Thanks, GP! I didn’t know until just now that those wax cylinders were also capable of recording, not just playing.
Yes, people seem to have seen that first Coca-Cola as a “tonic” much the way we think of energy drinks. I might substitute hot dogs for the serval cat in your other set of 3 things (it was presenting a problem that I’m can’t discuss because of spoilers). These are great things. Cheers. 🙂
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haha, yeah the coca cola was advertised as an ease to the ailments of addiction – what a hoot!!
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Deeper and deeper we go, Teagan. Thanks for the refresher of the characters. There’s a lot going on at this shindig, but you have kept us clear about all of it as we navigate the room. Well, with the exception of that which has not yet been revealed, like the note or the code. In due time, I expect. I am fully engaged, and looking forward to the next episode. I hope you enjoy this weekend.
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Thanks so very much, Dan. With any of the serials, I rarely know whether or not I’m hitting the right marks. Your feedback is always helpful. A happy and relaxing holiday weekend to you as well. Hugs.
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You are on fire with this serial, Teagan.
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How very intriguing, Teagan! The plot thickens! I wonder what the fan has been saying and what the note exchanged says, and what kind of relationship exists between Mr Adler and Miss Zola Jouret. I love the images and the fact that the post serves several purposes. Oh, and the key to the characters is a good reminder as well. I hope you and the Scoobies have a lovely Memorial Weekend. Big hugs and love to all! ♥
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Heartfelt thanks, Olga. Yes, Mr. Adler came into my head unexpectedly. LOL, since I’ve been sneezing my head off, his entrance makes sense! Purrs from the afternoon-lazing Scoobies. Big hugs.
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Teagan’s stories are a great place to begin Memorial Day Weekend. Happy Memorial Day, Teagan. Another superb chapter.
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Thanks very much, Pat. I hope you have a lovely holiday weekend. Hugs.
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You get an A+ for research and imagination.
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