Devon Holmes The Dragon's Mark by BONITA HIGHLEY - HTML preview

Devon Holmes, in her slumber, lay in bed.

Detective John Watson, goes into their room, sits next to her with newspaper in hand. “Will you look at this. An unusual change of events has happened.”

Devon, with closed eyes. In her inner thoughts, their children, the oldest, John Sherlock, now at age sixteen, their second son, Hamish Mycroft, at 14 and their only daughter, Cathern, twelve. “Ohhh Watson. Are you not so thorough to perceive. I’m in need of proper rest. Your children have put me into this position.”

John, smirked. “You had a terrific weekend I see. With our children. What was it. Our oldest John Sherlock with his adolescence? Our middle child, Hamish the Mycroft, or our only daughter Cathern wanting to experiment in the artistic science of lady like make up of eye shadow and mascara with nail polish?”

Devon, rubbed her tired eyes. “Yes, well, all was well until the experiment clashing with her two older brothers didn’t go well when that explosion happened did it? The boy’s chemistry set enmeshed with their sister’s experiments of beauty. And may I remind you of who had to clean up the mess? Who knew nail polish is highly flammable.

John, grinned amused. “Yes, well. At least we made team effort in clearing the mess. Well I think this mystery will open your eyes. As it reads:

‘Sometime late last night, an intruder has broken into The Grange Hall and spray painted the Graffiti depicted images of a dragon on the wall of one of the rooms. ”

Devon, opening her eyes, sat up in bed with enthusiasm getting a closer look. John, giving her a look. ”Sounds like something just down your alley of interests.”

Devon, looking at him. “Umm, maybe. What is the date on this interested mystery?”

John, seeing her most ravishing entice position. “It’s date is today.” He leans toward her giving a peck on her cheek, then her lower cheek, then her neck.

Devon, regardless of enjoyment of the kisses. “So, when do we start, this interesting mystery, my Dear Watson?”

John stop, pulls back. “When you are ready, my love.”