The Eric Hoffer Book Awards 2008,
and the USA Book Awards 2008.
It is the first novel in an outstanding Trilogy by Alexandrea Weis!
Check out BRH Review! 2 Reviews in 1!
Chapter 1
The
magnolias and the debutantes blossomed onto the New Orleans’ social season with great fanfare, even though the flowers were
much more appealing than many of the young ladies. Luckily, I was not among
this spring’s unfortunate few and would not have to spend hours feasting on
wilted cucumber sandwiches and flat champagne while wearing a long, white
taffeta gown as elevator music numbed my brain. I had already suffered my own
humiliation three seasons ago when I was primped, powdered, and paraded across
the lawns of many of the city’s finest homes.
The entire experience resembled a horse auction as observers tried
to imagine what type of wives these young women would make for the lawyers,
bankers, and doctors of tomorrow. Of course they had to have the proper
physique to interest any potential suitors: small enough to remain feminine,
but large enough to breed half a dozen healthy little future social climbers.
Their teeth had to be white, buffed, and polished as a sign of good breeding
and their parents’ ability to afford premium dental care. They had to be able
to walk without slouching, speak without saying anything of importance, and act
as if the only reason for living was to carry on the traditions of polite
society. This was the essence of being a debutante in the minds of all of the
best of New Orleans’ oldest families.
For this particular garden party, I was
to act as cheerleader for my cousin, Colleen. She was the latest member of our
family to suffer the piercing gazes and snake-like charm of “the old
guard”-what we younger folks affectionately called the long-standing members of
the ruling social sect in our city. They were a rather elderly group of bored
women who held firm to the belief that one or two ancestors who had died for
the cause in the Civil War put them on only a slightly higher pedestal than
anyone else who just had a whole lot of money. My cousin Colleen, however, was
parading among the elite of our city not because she was interested in pedigree
but because she was very interested in finding a husband with money and
connections.
The main job of these functions, of course, was to arrange
matchmaking services to the children of suitable families. The old guard would
provide important introductions to a boy’s family that they felt best suited a
lady’s individual class and breeding and also matched her father’s income. It
was considered a detriment to her social standing to question the judgment of
these esteemed and rather stuffy individuals. It was like a type of protective
inbreeding program. Unfortunately, that resulted in a great deal of idiocy
among their offspring. If my particular generation was any example of what
faulty genetic material could produce, then Colleen could have been their
poster child.
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