The sweet scent of Italy scattered through the room, subtle, scary, sensual. Taking in a shaky breath, she saw her broken maiden stripped of her innocence, glowing like the moon, skin contrasted by her raven hair. Mindlessly, her hand reached forth to catch the starlets that fell from her empty eyes, but the more she stretched, the more her lover shied.

She suddenly felt unnerved. Just as she made to sit up from the silky comforter lying still on the queen-sized mattress, her heart gave way, and the wrecked damsel stepped forward into the shadow before the bed.

There she stood, a devilish smile upon her porcelain face, and extended a slender arm toward the mesmerized woman. Shocked, but without hesitation, she laced their fingers, and they danced until, fatigued, they fell and shattered into the Venetian night.