"Laurell K. Hamilton - Anita Blake 12 - Incubus Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

just being a large and wonderful presence. Robin, for answering my questions and,
as always, for being a wise voice. To Marshal Michael Moriaty, for sending me all
the nifty stuff on the federal marshal program, and answering some of my questions.
All mistakes are mine and mine alone. To Sergeant Robert Cooney of St. LouisтАЩs
Mobile Reserve, for answering questions, for the tour and letting us see all the
wonderful toys. His input was invaluable to this book. All mistakes are mine and
mine alone. The more I learn about our own Mobile Reserve and all the tactical units
across the country, the more impressed I am and the more I despair of ever getting it
just right on paper. My writing group, the Alternate Historians: Tom Drennen, Rhett
MacPherson, Deborah Millitello, Marella Sands, Sharon Shinn, and Mark Sumner.
Fine writers, good friends, and champions of esoteric trivia. To Mary, my
mother-in-law, who did grandma day camp with Trinity so that Jon and I could get
this rewrite done. If Jon hadnтАЩt sat with me and made me do it, you might never have
seen this book. To Trinity, who gets more amazing every year, and who I hope
someday understands what the heck I was doing all those days and nights up in that
room at the top of the house.




1
^┬╗
It was an October wedding. The bride was a witch who solved preternatural
crimes. The groom raised the dead and slew vampires for a living. It sounded like a
Halloween joke, but it wasnтАЩt.
The groomтАЩs side wore traditional black tuxedos with orange bow ties and white
shirts. The brideтАЩs side wore orange formals. You donтАЩt see Halloween orange prom
dresses all that often. IтАЩd been terrified that I was going to have to shell out three
hundred dollars for one of the monstrosities. But since I was on the groomтАЩs side I
got to wear a tux. Larry Kirkland, groom, coworker, and friend, had stuck to his
guns. He refused to make me wear a dress, unless I wanted to wear one. Hmm, let
me see. Three hundred dollars, or more, for a very orange formal that IтАЩd burn
before IтАЩd wear again, or less than a hundred dollars to rent a tux that I could return.
Wait, let me think.
I got the tux. I did have to buy a pair of black tie-up shoes. The tux shop didnтАЩt
have any size seven in womenтАЩs. Oh, well. Even with the seventy-dollar shoes that I
would probably never wear again, I still counted myself very lucky.
As I watched the four bridesmaids in their poofy orange dresses walk down the
isle of the packed church, their hair done up on their heads in ringlets, and more
makeup than IтАЩd ever seen any of them wear, I was feeling very, very lucky. They
had little round bouquets of orange and white flowers with black lace and orange and
black ribbons trailing down from the flowers. I just had to stand up at the front of
the church with my one hand holding the wrist of the other arm. The wedding
coordinator had seemed to believe that all the groomsmen would pick their noses, or
something equally embarrassing, if they didnтАЩt keep their hands busy. So sheтАЩd
informed them that they were to stand with their hands clasped on opposite wrists.
No hands in pockets, no crossed arms, no hands clasped in front of their groins. IтАЩd
arrived late to the rehearsalтАФbig surpriseтАФand the wedding coordinator had seemed
to believe that I would be a civilizing influence on the men, just because I happened
to be a girl. It didnтАЩt take her long to figure out that I was as uncouth as the men.