I love Author’s Choice. I can give you a snippet from any book at all and it doesn’t have to fit a particular theme. Makes it so much easier sometimes. 😉
So, let’s see… What do you want to read a snippet from? Something old or something new? How about something new. So new in fact it doesn’t yet have a cover but that’ll be coming soon… It’s unedited so any mistakes, just know when the final product comes out they will be corrected!
Slide Down On Me (Coming soon!)
Bella locked the flower shop. Her boss, Mrs. Cleary, had been her mother’s closest friend up until the plane crash that had killed Marianne and William Drake when Bella was in her freshman year at college.
Mrs. Cleary had lost her savings, same as everyone else in town had at the hands of Bella’s brother, Arthur ‘Artie’, but she didn’t hold it against Bella and had gladly given Bella a job.
Bella had been grateful for the help, for the kindness, but every time she looked at Mrs. Cleary, she couldn’t help feeling a little responsible. Then again, Bella felt a little responsible for what everyone had gone through.
When she was certain the lock was secure, she turned and couldn’t disguise her surprise to find Travis leaning against his truck in the front parking spot. “I thought we decided on Friday? I don’t have any more money now than I had at lunch.”
“I’m not here for money. Thought you could use a ride home. It’s about five miles out your place and I didn’t figure you’d be wanting to walk all that way after being on your feet all day.”
“Oh. That would be… You don’t have to do that. It’s out of your way and—”
“C’mon.” He cut her off and waved her forward. “I don’t mind.”
Bella stood at the edge of the curb, uncertain what to do. Travis was a secret, a wet dream, a fantasy she’d never be able to have. He was the only man in town who didn’t look at her with distain. Okay, make that the only person, aside from Mrs. Cleary, who didn’t look at her with disdain. She hadn’t had control over Artie or what he’d done, but the way people treated her, she figured they thought she should have.
“I won’t bite,” he teased and Bella laughed. It had been a long time since she had, since she’d even felt like smiling.
“From what I remember hearing, you used to like biting.” As soon as the words were out, she clamped her hand over her mouth and glanced around to see if anyone was within hearing distance.
Travis was grinning when she met his gaze again. He gave a slow wink and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The move pulled the denim tight across his cock and the sight did things to her insides she’d only wished to experience with the hotter than hell mechanic.
“There were stories about you too, so don’t think I believe you’re any more innocent than I am.”
“Hush,” she urged. “This isn’t the place to discuss any of this.”
He leaned casually against the front quarter panel of his truck and chuckled. “Let’s see,” he started. “If I recall the rumors correctly, you liked your sex a little rough and tumble.”
Bella blushed. She knew it, from the heat in her cheeks and the way her blood pumped through her body faster. It was summer in the South, but for the first time since she’d stepped outside the shop, she was sweating. “You heard about all that?”
“There was nothing you did that was a secret. Those private school jocks you dated weren’t worth shit when it came to keeping their mouths shut. You were an extremely naughty girl, Bella Drake.”
Oh dear God. Had her parents known? Her brother? The whole damn town? She wanted to look away, to look down at the ground and wait for it to swallow her whole, but she wouldn’t hide from who she’d been anymore than she hid from who she’d had to become.
She kept her gaze leveled at Travis. “Were being the operative word.”
“Pretty and perfect on the outside,” he continued, “Never a hair out of place, but behind closed doors, you were something else entirely. Heard tell the goth girls had nothing on you in the name of freak.”
Bella could only imagine what ‘freak’ things he was talking about. He was right that she’d been rather wild as a teen. She’d never been into the drinking or smoking or any of the drugs that floated around, but she was always up for a good time with guys and girls. Her time at Brown had mellowed her out quite a bit though, especially when her parents died. She’d taken the loss hard as they’d been on their way to see her on Parent’s Weekend.
Her grades had been high, her social life full, money at her fingertips. Then real life set in. She spent a lot of time alone, mouring. She tried to turn herself into something she wasn’t at the time, but that soon became second nature. She stopped dating for a while, and when she started again, it wasn’t at the same level it had once been. There were no more threesomes, no more female lovers, no more sex clubs. She’d been a young socialite with plastic in her pocket and nothing was off limits.
She’d been stifled. She did it to herself, but the definition was the same.
And her greatest temptation was offering her a ride home.
“Well, that’s all in the past. I’m completely respectable these days.” Or trying to be, at least. Too much more time spent in Travis’ company and everything she was trying to bury about herself in the name of respectable and sensible and trustworthy would go up in a pile of smoke and ash.
“Really?” At her nod, he clucked his tongue. “Now that’s a damn shame.”
How had they gotten on this topic? And how could they get off of it? “Why?” Of course, if she kept asking questions, they wouldn’t.
“Why, indeed. Let’s get you home.” He moved to the passenger side door and opened it for her.
“Won’t people talk if they see us together?” She was hedging, putting off accepting his kind gesture. Whatever sexual overtones or blatant conversation, his offer to take her home was kind. Heck, it would be the highlight of her week, but… “I mean, as we’ve just discussed, gossip is rampant around here. I don’t want to cause further harm to your business by you being seen with me. Guilt by association isn’t fun.” Of course, she had firsthand knowledge of that and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
However, that was only one of her objections to accepting a ride from him. Her other one was the sheer fact that it was him. She wanted his hands out of his pockets and on her. She wanted his cock out from behind his zipper and inside her. She wanted to toss away the respectability she’d been attempting to cloak herself in and get nasty with him the way she’d always wanted to.
Being in his truck, mere inches from him, she didn’t trust herself not to reach out.
“Don’t you worry about that. I can handle myself and any of my customers who may have issues. C’mon now. In the truck with ya. It’s screamin’ hot out here.”
Bella couldn’t find any other way to argue with him. She wanted to but couldn’t. Hurting his garage’s business wasn’t something she wanted. Heck, none of this was what she’d wanted. Her brother’s actions had killed something wonderful in a small town. They no longer trusted anyone, especially outsiders, and most especially her. Her family had always done right by the town, had always helped see to its prosperity, its charm, its way of life. Drakes had lived in the county since before the War Between the States and their money had kept the town from falling into Union hands, into enemy hands.
And now, she was the enemy. Southern pride was something strong and unyielding. As close as she’d come to breaking down, mentally and emotionally over the months, that pride had never faltered or failed her.
She nodded once and stepped off the curb. The door closed firmly once she’d climbed inside the truck and was seated. He joined her from the driver’s side where he slid behind the steering wheel. She stared straight ahead until they were passed the seed store on the edge of town. She didn’t want to see the accusatory looks from anyone. Oh she was used to it for herself, but those looks wouldn’t be aimed at her this time.
“Why are you being nice to me?” she asked when the silence became too much for the small cab of the old truck. She was too aware of him seated within touching distance. Dirt, sweat, grease all assailed her, but underneath it all was the scent that was Travis. He’d always had dirt under his nails and oil smudges on his clothes and arms, but he smelled like the country. Fresh cut grass, hay bales, freedom. All of it went against the look of him; hard, inked, pierced. He’d had the tattoos and the ear piercings for as long as she could remember. Every time she saw him, it seemed there was some new piece of art on his body, but he still had that smell of springtime and summer all rolled into one.
The two lane road out to her side of the lake was deserted but that wasn’t unusual. She’d come to enjoy the solitude, the privacy that was so different than the social scenes and clubbing she’d been used to. She didn’t so much like the pariah stigma, but she’d had to get used to it real quick.
Out the passenger window, the lake glistened under the late afternoon sun. She’d gone swimming in it along with the rest of the county when she was growing up. Even Travis and his friends would hang out on the water. There were several floating docks that all the kids swam out to and sunbathed on, but Travis, his brother, and their friends would water ski, or fish at one end, or swing out and jump in from long hanging ropes that dangled from tree limbs.
It was her guilty pleasure to watch him. She did it discretely so her friends or whatever boy she happened to be dating at the time hadn’t noticed and if they did, she always told them she didn’t understand the foolishness. In truth, she was in awe of him, fascinated by him, crushing on him so hard it made her bathing suit bottoms wet and her heart beat fast in her chest.
She would’ve thought growing up, moving away, living among her own privileged kind in Nashville society, and finally the hell she’d been through would have cured her of fairy tales filled with hot, sex-in-a-pair-of-jeans Prince Charmings. She’d obviously been mistaken.
“Why shouldn’t I be nice to you? You didn’t do anything to me.”
He said it casually, easily, and Bella struggled not to look at his profile. Gone was the cold, businesslike tone he’d used on her earlier in the day, and while part of her was grateful for it, it made another part of her wary.
“No, I didn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that my name is Drake.”
“You’re not your brother or his actions.” Bella did look over at Travis then only to find him looking at her. There was something unreadable in his eyes, in the slight curve of his lips, but her heart thundered all the same. She nodded once, again grateful, and turned her head until she was looking back out over the water.
When the curve of her driveway came into view and Travis made the veer to the right that would take them to the front of her house, she couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment. She wasn’t ready to be out of his company yet. Though they’d said little after their little bantering conversation outside the flower shop, she found she wasn’t as prepared to be alone as she usually was.
He was magnetic, completely at home and yet out of place in this little country setting. Global warming had nothing on the heat of Travis’ Southern drawl and the crazy things it still did to her insides.
He pulled to a stop and before she could say anything, even a thank you for the ride, Travis had the truck in park and the keys out of the ignition. She gaped at him, but he didn’t look at her, only got out and came around to open her door. “Thanks,” she said, hopping down from the cab.
Travis inclined his head and gave a small smile. “My pleasure.”
She thought he’d leave then, but after he closed the door to the truck and she started up the steps to her porch, Travis cleared his throat. Bella turned. He was leaning against the same front quarter panel as he had been earlier. His arms were crossed over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankle. There was arrogance in eyes, and heat. She couldn’t mistake that because it matched her own. The arrogance however, made her shiver in the humid Tennessee heat with uncertainty. “Travis?”
“Sleep with me.”
Now, when you’ve fanned yourself off enough to read some more, please slip over to the following blogs for more snippets:
Mandy M. Roth
Have a fantastic Saturday!
Do y’all know Leah? She writes cowboy hotties! She writes a little kink too… And she’s forever clad in boots and a white cowboy hat. How do I know this? I’ve met her and she’s awesome. She’s one of the most down to earth authors I’ve met in the few years I’ve been in this business. And, she remembers my name. That may not mean a lot to you, but to me, damn… We’ve met several times at Lori Foster’s Reader/Author Get Together and her remembering little ole me means the world. She’s well thought of and well respected. She’s passionate about her writing too.
It’s her birthday we’re celebrating and she’s got a giveaway full of goodies and there are 31 of us participating…
So, what do you have to do to win? Simply enter by the Rafflecopter widget below. Like my Facebook page, and other participants Facebook pages and of course Leah’s… The Rafflecopter widget is also displayed on those Facebook pages.
Here is the blog link to Leah’s blog where she’s listed all the prizes… http://leahbraemel.com/2013/07/26/leahs-birthday-bash/
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Boys of Summer. The Don Henley song. I loved that one. You remember it?
“I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that radio on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone
I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
You got that hair slicked back and those Wayfarers on, baby
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone”
Sometimes that’s what Summer is. Long days. Long night. Finding love, losing love… The memories coming back, making you yearn for those carefree days and what slipped away.
And sometimes, there’s a little bit of Summer, all year ’round, found in the most unlikely places…
So, I’ve taken a completely different approach to our theme and am giving you a little something to cool you down from the heat wave many have been experiencing…
“You have something warm to wear? Gloves? Heavy shoes?”
“My other shoes are back in my car and so are my gloves. I have some sweaters and such.”
“No. I hate it and didn’t expect I’d need it. Why?”
“Hold on. Let me see what I can find for you.”
He winked and moved away from her to rummage through a chest of drawers. He pulled out a few sweats and thick socks and tossed them on the bed. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going outside. You get dressed, and I’ll be right back.”
Holli was still standing there confused when he left the room and then left the apartment. “What the hell?”
Still a little uncertain, she took off the clothes she’d slept in and grabbed the clothes he’d laid out and went into the bathroom. The least she could do with the loaned, too-long-in-the-leg and too-snug-in-the-hips-and-ass, ill-fitting sweats and pair of men’s wooly socks was put on some deodorant. Brushing her teeth, washing her face, and combing her hair couldn’t hurt either. She could make herself a little more presentable.
She was rummaging through her makeup bag for her moisturizer when she heard the door to the apartment shut again. After pulling the ends of the sweats up over her feet and ankles and grabbing the sweatshirt, she went to see where he’d been.
“Boots,” he said, holding up a pair of galoshes. His gaze narrowed on her. “Everything fit okay?”
“Just peachy. It’s snowing, and you want to go outside?”
“Have you ever played in the snow?”
“Not really, not this kind of snow.”
“Well, put these on, and let’s go. You’ve been cooped up inside for days, and some time outside will do you good.”
Holli took the boots from him and sat down to put them on. “It’s cold out.”
“Taking me outside to play in the snow isn’t going to violate my house arrest agreement?” she asked as he was walking into the bedroom and she was tugging the sweatshirt on over her head. Layering clothes had never been her favorite thing about winter, but at least it kept her warm. She reached up inside the arms and pulled the sleeves of the long-sleeved T-shirts down and smoothed everything into place as best she could. Everything she wore was black. She had to look like a charred marshmallow.
“No more than what was going on before in the bed and no more than the attraction between us.”
He was pulling on a sweater over a long-sleeved T-shirt as he walked back into the living room. The sweater being pulled over his head ruffled his hair, and the casual intimacy of the moment struck something deep inside her. Spending time with him alone, playing, laughing, talking as though they were friends, involved…it wasn’t a good idea. She was going to fall for him, and it was going to be more than his good looks and his kindness that wormed its way under her skin. “Maybe you should have taken me to a hotel and had someone else guard me.”
He tweaked her nose as he passed her to get some boots sitting by the door. “No. Trust me; there’s no one better for the job than me.”
“I’m not going to run.”
“That’s not what I mean. C’mon. Put some of that lotion on your face and let’s go.”
He was like a kid, and his excitement was contagious. Holli quickly put the moisturizer on and set the tube on the counter before letting him help her into her jacket. He shoved a baseball cap on her head and ushered her out into the cold hallway. She shivered.
“Oh damn. Here.” He handed her a pair of gloves he pulled from his pants pocket. “I forgot to give these to you. Mrs. Collins said you could hold on to them until you leave.”
“Nice of her.” Holli quickly put them on, and though it wasn’t immediate or scalding warmth, they were wonderful against the bite of the wind as they stepped outside. “These her boots too?”
The snow was even more blinding outside and even more beautiful. She stood there, looking up, letting it fall on her face. “This is real snow. We don’t get this in Atlanta.”
“What do you get?”
“It’s not powder. It’s wet and icy, but this is…this is delicate, and there are actual snowflakes.”
“We get the icy stuff too, but we’ve gotten a lot more powder this year than normal.”
Holli walked a little farther out into the small backyard but stopped short when a ball of snow hit her square in the chest. “Hey!” Michael’s smile was all innocence. She didn’t buy it for a second. “Weren’t you ever taught not to hit girls?”
“Yes, but snowball fights don’t count.”
“How do they not count?” He was already rolling another ball between his hands, his eyes trained on her. “Oh I see. You’re not gonna play fair.”
“I always play fair.”
He drew back his arm, his fingers… Wait. Were those his knuckles on top of the snowball? She squinted and tried her best to focus, to see clearly. Was he going to…? Oh hell no. He was going to send a knuckleball her way? Two could play that game. One of the greatest knuckleball pitchers of all time played for the Atlanta Braves, and Officer “Pretty Boy” Hunky wasn’t about to show her up. “Unless what?”
Holli dropped down, shed her gloves for the time it took to mold the snow into the right size ball. Her fingers were so numb and cold she could hardly feel what she was doing, but it was going to be well worth it. She pinched off little bits of snow until she had the perfect size pile of powder sitting in her palm. “Unless what, Hunky?”
Carefully she laid the mock baseball down, then picked up the gloves again, making sure to pick a few pieces of fuzz off. After slipping her fingers back inside the blessed semiwarmth, she scooped up the snow baseball, packed the fuzz from the gloves into it so that it could be seen clearly, and took her stance.
“Unless it’s something I really want.”
He looked for all the world like he was waiting patiently, but she knew better. He was in competition mode, just like she was, and there was no patiently waiting about either of them.
“And then I stop at nothing until I get it.”
He let his snowball fly the second she drew her arm back, then shot it forward to let hers go. She moved as soon as it was out of her hand, narrowly missing getting tagged dead center of her chest. Officer Hunky wasn’t quite so fortunate.
He placed a hand over his heart. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
“My family, namely my grandpa and my dad, watch baseball religiously. I watch too. It’s what we do in our house every summer. Hot dogs, chips, sodas, baseball. If we aren’t at the games, we’re planted in front of the television watching them.”
“But that was a knuckleball.”
Holli grinned. “It was,” she said proudly. “How could you tell?”
“I saw the dark speck of something coming right at me.”
Her grin grew bigger. “My dad was a big Phil Neikro fan, and when he left the Braves, dad kind of broke tradition and would watch Phil play wherever he was and when I was old enough, he taught me how to throw one. I can throw all kinds of pitches. My aim is generally way off, but well, you’re a pretty good-sized target.”
As she’d been talking, she’d been kneeling down in an ever-growing pile of snow, making snowballs. She kept her eyes on him for the most part, making sure she didn’t look like a threat, making it appear she was just playing in the snow.
“I’m a baseball fan too.”
“I didn’t see anything in your apartment for a team.”
“I’m a Phillies fan. And you’re wearing my Phillies hat.”
She yanked the hat off her head. Sure enough she was. She hadn’t noticed what was on the cap when he’d stuffed it on her. “Yuck.” She tossed it at him, then made a sour face and stuck her tongue out as though she were spitting something out. “Terrible taste. I can’t believe I had that on. If my family ever finds out, they’ll skin me alive.”
He looked so affronted she forgot her own distress, genuine though it was, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. “Yes, terrible. A Braves fan does not wear a Phillies hat, no matter the circumstances.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Oh yeah, that’s exactly it.” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue and another snowball hit him square upside the head.
“Now you’re playing dirty. I wasn’t looking.”
“Me? Play dirty? No.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.” Two more snowballs flew at him, small ones that, when held together, were about the size of a regulation softball. Her aim had been his stomach but went a little south. “Oh God.”
She ran toward him as fast as the cockamamy outfit and boots would let her. The piling snow didn’t help either. He dropped to his knees and fell over, clutching his crotch. She dropped down beside him, wanting to touch him but afraid of hurting him. “Oh God, Michael. I am so sorry.” And she was. She’d been hoping to play with that part of his anatomy later, and now she’d just drilled him with hard-packed snow. “How bad are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Talk to me, say something.”
“You play dirty snowball fight,” he croaked out. He followed that with a great deal of whimpering and rolling around.
“Michael?” When he didn’t answer her and just kept mewling like a wounded animal… “Well, I guess there’s nothing else to do but hide your body.”
Holli scooped up an armful of snow and dropped it over his hips and groin area.
“What the –”
She followed that with an armful dumped on his chest and then one over his face.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Burying you.” She pushed snow up against his body and packed it in tight. “You’re evidently on death’s door, what with all the dramatics. Your body should keep for a few months as long as the temperature stays around freezing. In the spring they’ll find you, and I’ll be long gone.”
He blew snow out of his mouth and shook his head against the ground to dislodge even more from his face. “You’re a coldhearted woman, Holli. I was trying to show you a good time, and you insult my choice of baseball team and then fire shots below my belt. That’s just wrong.”
“And has the snow reduced the swelling and the pain?”
He laughed, low and dark. The sound made her shiver, and for once since she’d been in the north, she welcomed it.
“No. In fact, it’s even more swollen now, and the pain is excruciating.”
Holli clucked her tongue and shook her head sadly. “I guess the only decent thing for me to do then is to put you out of your misery.”
“Definitely. I think that’s your only recourse.”
Next thing she knew, she was flat on her back in the snow, and he was braced on his arms above her. They stared at one another for a few excruciatingly long seconds before his mouth was on hers, his tongue in her mouth, his body heating hers from the inside out.
He tasted like chocolate, like a fantasy, and she kissed him with an urgency she absolutely felt. She only had him for a couple of days, just a small moment in time before life would return to normal again.
If you have some time today, take some of it and read through snippets on the following blogs:
Mandy M. Roth
Have a great weekend!
I’m back y’all! Did ya miss me? 😉 I’m sure ya did.
Today’s snippet is about the big city. I don’t write much about the big city. Most of my books take place in small towns but I have a few that feature bigger places.
I’ll think I’ll use something newer… There’s talk of the city if not the city featured itself…
Middle of the fifth inning and his Phillies were down. Michael smacked at the steering wheel and let a string of curses fly from between clenched teeth. She was going to be impossible if the Braves won this game. They’d already won the first two in the series this week, but if they won this last one? “Fuck.”
He pulled into a parking spot. The walk to Turner Field would take him to at least the end of the inning, but he would be there, with her. Living down south with the woman he’d arrested on a clerical error, the woman who, even though she was a lifelong Braves fan, had turned out to be the love of his life…
Atlanta was so different than his small Pennsylvania hometown. Okay so maybe different wasn’t exactly the right word. It was a whole other universe. From the sheer number of events, crowds of people, lines of traffic, and crime. It was a wonder he could find his way from home to work and back again as it was. And the food? He couldn’t even wrap his head around the food. A heart attack couldn’t be too far away given the sauced and cheesed and smothered southern dishes his girlfriend’s mother was fond of making for them every Sunday.
He wouldn’t trade any of it, though. The few days he and Holli had spent holed up in his apartment that Christmas a couple of years ago had been eye-opening for him. The connection, the ease, the sex. He smiled. The sex with Holli had been anything but boring that week. He liked hard, fun, even kinky sex, and Holli was definitely his match in that.
At the gate of the stadium he handed his ticket over. He made his way down the steps from the pavilion and saw the back of her head. Well, the back of her ball cap. Her brown waves were pulled back in a ponytail. Even without seeing more than her head and the top of her shoulders, he knew she’d be decked out all the way down to her toes in Braves gear.
He looked down at himself and grimaced. No wonder the Phillies were losing. He didn’t have a stitch of supportive clothing on. Midstep he turned and headed to the nearest gift shop. They didn’t have a big selection of anything Phillies, but there were a few caps to choose from. He plucked one from the hook and at the register found a small bat that brought a smile to his face and dirty thoughts to his mind. It was roughly twelve inches, and maybe the circumference of a quarter at the end.
Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed the bat by the grip and laid it down with his hat. The cashier smirked, and Michael grinned. “Mixed relationship,” he offered.
“I hope she’s not the Phillies fan.”
“With as bad as they’ve been playing this series, if she’s the fan, you’re gonna be in the dog house until they win a game.”
Michael laughed. “You’ve got a point. Good thing I’m the Philly.” He paid for his items, ripped the tag off the cap and tossed it in the trash, then fit the cap on his head.
He jogged back down the steps, then slid into the seat next to Holli. She didn’t look at him, just took his hand and smiled with a small tilt of the corner of her mouth. “You really think that hat is gonna help?”
Michael squeezed her fingers. “It can’t hurt.”
“This is why when you get dressed on game-day morning, you put on your gear.”
“I know.” It was a superstition she had. If she wasn’t dressed in a Braves shirt, Braves socks, and Braves cap the day of a game, no matter where they were playing, they had a better than average chance of losing than if she was wearing it all.
He couldn’t fault her thinking. After all, he hadn’t worn any Phillies stuff since they’d come to town to play this three-game series, and they’d lost every game and not gracefully. “Maybe I should ask Santa for some Phillies boxers or something this year. At least I can wear them to work and not be mobbed. I can’t walk into the station with a Phillies tie or shirt visible to all.”
“You could always switch teams.”
“I’m going to ignore you said that.”
“Just a suggestion.” She lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of his. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
Michael shifted to get comfortable in the small confines of the stadium seats and glanced out over the field. Middle of the top of the sixth, the Phillies were up to bat and centerfield was so close, Michael felt as though he could reach out and run his fingers through the grass. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Thursday night. “Traffic sucks here. Even with the light flashing on the dashboard.”
“You put the light on?”
“Of course. The Phillies are in town.”
“And this is police business?”
“If I find someone to arrest, yes.”
“Been there, done that,” she muttered, but loud enough for him to hear, and he laughed.
“Yes you have. So, what’s been going on? I caught some of it on the radio, but when the announcers are biased, it kind of takes some of the fun out of it.”
“Yeah, that’s what takes away the fun. Whatever you have to tell yourself to feel better.”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him, and he nudged her shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Fat chance. As you can see, the Phillies are really what sucks in this town. Third game in the series, and y’all can’t get a batter on base.”
“They were waiting for me to show up. They knew I couldn’t be here for the first two games, and they were waiting for me to be here before they turned it on.” Two could play the smartass game.
“Oh. Well, by all means, work your magic then, Officer, but be forewarned, my Braves are still going to kick your butts all the way back to Pennsylvania.”
Much as he loved his team, she was likely going to be right. “Just watch the game.”
“Oh come on now. You’re not a sore loser, are you?” Her sarcasm was not lost on him, and she knew it.
“You know better than that. You should just keep your eye on the ball. I don’t need any further comments from the peanut gallery.”
“Or seventh-inning stretch, I’ll give you something to be sore about.”
Buy Link: Loose Id
For more Big City snippets, visit the following blogs:
Mandy M. Roth
Have a great weekend, y’all!
You bet! Some people when they travel scope out tourist spots, or certain types of restaurants, or highways of significance, or the nearest Walmart. Me, I scope out where the coffee shops are. Where’s a Starbucks? Is there something local that would be cool to try? What kind of coffee service does the hotel provide?
Now, we’re staying in a Marriott. A very swanky Marriott. The TPC Marriott Hill Country in San Antonio for the next few nights.
(this is it…OMG!!! it’s HUGE! I just wanna stare out at the golf courses all day…)
They have several restaurants and room service. So far, all I’ve gleaned from anything or anyone, is I can go down to one of those and order coffee, or there’s In-Room coffee (ick!), or room service. I’m thinking room service. These are people in my husband’s company. I don’t want to make a poor impression by looking like something the cat dragged in at 3am.
But yes, I try to find coffee places and those of you who pay attention or care would be disappointed if I didn’t come back with some picture of a coffee joint, even if it is just a Starbucks.
I’ll post what and when I can. We’ll be going to caverns. I don’t remember which ones, but that’s what we’re doing tomorrow, as well the Alamo (though I’ve been told unless you go to the mission outside town, it’s unimpressive), and the famed Riverwalk.
That’s what I really want to see and do. If we have a chance on Friday, I plan to drive up to Austin, Tx for part of the day. Both of these are for my own research for my books… The Bar Next Door series and the Lone Star Sweets series that will be going into some sort of get-the-ball-rolling-publishing mode in July.
Y’all know I’m an introvert, that I’m quiet and shy and don’t talk to people I don’t know who I KNOW I have things in common with (read smut, anyone?)… But this going to be close to 800 people from a very large bank and their spouses. I will be holding up the nearest wall in the ballroom. I don’t get panic attacks but large, gathered crowds zap and drain me. Sporting events are different, I can zone out. I can put on headphone or not, but I can focus on the game or race and I’m not expected to be social.
I need a cave, y’all…
And I need to get moving. I’ll post stuff to Facebook that I know you’ll find immensely entertaining…;-)