Synthia Moore is a woman of a time when curves were a necessity, women were not afraid to be feminine, and sultry looks were exchanged in dark, smoke-filled lounges.
She moves to Big Band Era, a bit of Frankie, Dean and Tony . . . and now days, enjoys the sounds of Michael Bublé.
Synthia likes to dress vintage classic–a little black dress goes a long way (or a little hot red one–depending on the mood), pearls and diamonds are always in style and there is nothing wrong with a pair of patent-leather black pumps.
She loves a man in uniform–clean-cut and sophisticated or a classic black tux or suitcoat. (There are moments when a bare-chested, shaggy, dark-haired, man on the front cover of the latest paranormal fantasy romance will get her classic, red-blooded hormones to moan–but he has to be hot, hot , hot.)
Her ideal date? When her man says, “Honey, meet me at Izzy’s at eight.” He’s there waiting. She shows up in a taxi, the night is mild, she’s dressed to seduce. He has a glass of homemade Sangria waiting for her at their favorite table. Dinner is followed by light jazz, slow dancing and . . . a slow ride back to the townhouse in his black Cadillac with the moon roof opened. The night ends with a cup of hot tea . . . and Syn.