A Dame to Die For

She’s not just another pretty face

“The Lounge Singer” image by Christine Graves via Bing AI

It was a sultry night in New Orleans when I met the woman of my dreams. I was just some mook looking to make a quick buck, but she was a dame to die for.

I’d landed a gig in some back alley dive when I first laid eyes on her. She had dark hair and copper skin that glowed in the dimly lit lounge. I plucked away on my bass, letting the little saxophone player in the corner…