I reenact my own Cinderella routine sans the discarded pump. If Cinderella had paid what I did for these shoes, she’d have made sure she left the ball with both, too.
If I’m going to have regrets in this life, I’d rather them be for the chances I took and not the opportunities I let slip away.
The line between villain and hero is whisper thin, and, very frequently, a matter of perspective. Gray, Miss Perez. We operate in the gray.
I was completely sucked into Ms. Cleeton’s well-crafted and deftly written cloak and dagger vortex as I zigzagged the globe while she brilliantly unfolded her impressive tale of Beatriz Perez, Cuban femme fatale. Her captivating storylines sparkled with intrigue, betrayals, passion, family drama, an epic love, patriotism, scandal, and tropical heat. The engaging plot was quickly paced and highly eventful while blending fact and fiction with stunning agility in an informative yet entertaining and evocative manner.
Ms. Cleeton’s writing activated a long forgotten grade school memory flash of participating in those ridiculous duck and cover drills and being reprimanded for giggling while sitting under my desk. And I am proud to exclaim that I finally, yes finally, have a grasp on the atrocity of the Bay of Pigs and the disgraceful betrayals of the US government that caused such butchery, which is nothing new and probably even worse now, yet still, so disheartening. The 60s really were a mess!