Farm Girl

Lindsay O'Connor was nothing special. If someone called her white trash ... well, she couldn't really deny it, could she? Neither of her parents graduated from college. Her mothers side hailed from the mountains of West Virginia. Her fathers side had lived in South Carolina since his ancestors had immigrated from Ireland, where they were rabble rousers and hell raisers too.

Lindsay had two brothers, neither of whom aspired to anything other than working the farm. They also took after her ancestors enough to intimidate any man foolish enough to woo Lindsay. So she was a virgin, shy, bookish -- nothing special. Just half hillbilly and half redneck.

So why had these gorgeous housewives invited a girl like her to a dinner at someplace exclusive like the Marlin? Something didn't make sense, even to naive Lindsay. Yet the lure to fit ... to fit somewhere beyond her station ... drove her. It drove her to put on the finest jewelry she had (her silver cross that her mother had gotten her when she got accepted to the University). It drove her to put on an outfit that she'd never had the courage to wear elsewhere, something that showed off her alabaster flesh and freckles and left little to the imagination. It drove her to go to the Marlin, into the spider's web.