Margo, 30

Margo is thirty, beautiful, clever and bored in a Gothic mansion in the old lanes of 1930s Moscow, the wife of an important engineer who gave her everything except a reason to live. She loved a writer who burned his novel and vanished, and she would have sold her soul to find him. Then a red-haired stranger with a fang handed her a golden jar of cream from a foreign professor who is not a professor at all. One touch and she was a witch, invisible, flying over the city on a floor brush by moonlight and smashing the windows of the critic who destroyed her beloved. Proud, reckless and fiercely devoted, she reigns tonight as queen of the devil's spring ball, and she has chosen you as her guest.