Prophets Tango—S1: Out of Step
What happens when a drug-dealing psychic with a side gig as an angel of Death takes a mysterious woman for a whirl around the dance floor?
Fate holds its breath and lets Romance take a chance.
Jackson Jude Bell is a rock’n’ roll rake, peddling weed and charming his way through bedrooms and backseats all over the city. Jack also has a higher calling—dishing out street justice to those in need—but he doesn’t let it get in the way of his fun. That psychic thing? He knows what you’re thinking, what you’ll do next, and if you deserve to die, he handles it.
Cursed with her own flavor of psychic ability, Anna Catalano reads Tarot and jurors for a living. She feels what you’re feeling—your history and heartaches, passions and perversions—unless she’s stoned. Anna stays just high enough to avoid thinking about her own life until her gangster-wannabe husband blackmails her into a corner and she starts looking for a way out.
With the help of a pair of hapless Spirits on a half-baked mission, Jack and Anna meet, and with one dance, their lives are upended. Cosmic lust comes before trust, but they have to work together if they hope to thwart her husband’s plans to sell her secret to settle a deadly debt.
(Continued in Prophets Tango—S2: Dancing in the Dark)
At a courthouse assignment, Anna and Jack become material witnesses to a murder-suicide. During a meeting with potential allies, they discover that they are not alone in the world as Readers, but as a couple, they are in a class by themselves. Of course, passions can’t burn this hot without someone getting burned, getting mad, and getting even. Inevitably, violence brings destruction and heartbreak.
(Continued in Prophets Tango—S3: The Light Fantastic)
Jack pulls Anna back from oblivion and they commit to facing the future together, but the circumstances are dire as they pick up the pieces of their lives. A calculated measure of revenge exposes them to new threats as old enemies resurface and a police detective from Anna's past starts looking into the rising body count of her life.
Evil spreads like oil on water but together they discover a fiery new facet of their combined power. Hot becomes incendiary as the duo retreat to prepare for their wedding unaware that they are being stalked.
They give up trying to hide from the destiny of their alliance as the power of their love and the magic they conjure together combine to drive the saga of Prophets Tango to a spectacular conclusion.
Disco was the least of the 70s. It was the lipstick on the pig of an out-of-control wedge of years caught between the wishful thinking of the 60s and the heart-wrenching chaos of the 80s. A truncated decade limping on platform soles between the wild abandon of Woodstock and the Death Card whispering "AIDS" from every dark corner. The sex cost too dearly, drugs took more than they gave, and rock 'n roll waited patiently in the wings.
But not everyone was standing behind velvet ropes desperate for approval. Not everyone spent their last dime on the latest polyester guaranteed to get them In. That was in the movies.
The economy was in free fall, the oil crisis strangling the working class the hardest. People dropped their credit card bills in the trash, unopened. Goals were sketchy, mutable. For a few, survival on their own terms was slipping through their fingers.