I instinctively know this is the dark necromancer that’s made my life hell. There’s cool amusement in his eyes, and the hint of a smile playing across his lips. His sandy-colored hair is parted and slicked to the side like a model’s. One finely tailored arm is propped on his chair, and a fork spins between his fingers as he watches me. To my embarrassment, I jump when he abruptly slaps it back down beside his plate.
“Would you like to have a seat? The appetizers will be here shortly. Crab cakes.”
“What…what do you want with me?”
“Flannery, I am a man of many convictions, and one of those is that business should never be discussed over good food. We will eat, and then talk about what it is…I want with you.”
The above is my first line.
This is a Dove chocolate wrapper that says: Stay up past your bedtime. Since necromancers work at night, it felt pretty perfect.