The Cards Don’t Lie

The Cards Don’t Lie

Odyssey of a Novice Writer

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First time I laid eyes on Mickey Flynn, I felt liquid fire pour through my veins.

At the time, I’d been with the Cirque du Swell for about ten years. I had a nice scam going as Madam Natalia Bukowska. I was supposed to be the impoverished daughter of an exiled Polish aristocrat, forced to earn my living reading cards and telling fortunes in traveling shows.

Well, I was no more the daughter of an aristocrat than our two-bit circus was ‘swell.’ But the scam’s the thing when you’re part of a traveling show, and every Jill and Joe who’s willing to lay down a couple of bucks is just a sucker begging for a little make-believe… and who was I to burst their bubble? If the suckers wanted a Polish aristocrat, I gave ‘em one.

The aristocrat scam was actually Pops Slawinski’s idea. Pops was the nasty old s.o.b…

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