Excerpt from Blackstone: Dahlia by Kate Davison I was five when my father killed my mother in cold blood. I’ll never forget that day. Even now, more than thirty years later, I can still hear the boom so loud in our quiet little house. I was in my room with all my crayons and plain paper spread across the desk, creating some world tucked deep in my imagination. The report shook me, froze me in place to listen. Waiting for what came next. Nothing. Fear crawled up my throat as if I knew the magnitude of that sound. As if I could actually feel the cleaving of my life into…

I clear my throat pulling my gaze away acknowledging that he does clean up rather well. “Where did you get the tuxedo?” I ask in a small voice. “I had to look everywhere for it,” He rumbles a laugh. “You should’ve asked, I would have given you a recommendation.” I run my hand over the satin lapel, smoothing it. “Is it not formal enough?” He asks with a roll of his eyes. “It will do perfectly actually. I’m impressed.” I smile crossing the room to the kitchen. “Wine?” I ask as I pour myself a glass, feeling my nerves loosen just a smidge. “No, I better not. I don’t drink…