He grinned and his eyes crinkled again at the corners. "You're not like my banshee," Michael whispered, his voice barely audible above the howl of the wind. "They take themselves too seriously. You're more like I imagined a banshee would be like as a youngster. Do you like to dance?" He mimed classic goth moves, clearing imaginary cobwebs with his hands swept over his head and then reaching up and twisting his wrists as if changing an invisible lightbulb.
Keela put the back of her hand to her forehead and leaned back, looking as insulted as she could manage. Then giggling, she made as if she was handing him a cup of tea, then swished her arm away from him, wrapping it across her chest with a toss of her head.
Sara writes her own brand of genre-bending fantasy as well as non-fiction clothing and costume history books, using both her experiences as a New Yorker and the Masters Degree in Costume History that she earned at NYU.
In Nashville, Sara has settled into the quiet life surprisingly well, if by "quiet" one might imagine rafter-raising Nashville Predator hockey games, a small fixer-upper house inhabited by some crazy dogs, a colorful international neighborhood with a great family restaurant serving amazing authentic Mexican or Middle Eastern food on just about every corner, and a day job teaching fashion and history to Nashville's finest and most energetic up-and-coming designers.
Besides the dogs, Guinevere the border collie mix and Eowyn the basenji mix, Sara shares this joyride with her husband, fellow author, and dearest friend: Matt.