Time for a Boo read?

read-ghosts

Halloween is the best time of year for a BOO read. Get yourself some nibbles and a favorite beverage too. Snuggle down, get comfy, and read Ghosts of Pumpkin Hollow. it’s a story you’ll remember for a long time. And right now, it’s only 99 cents. 

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A western without horses: Who says?

Saddle horn

A contemporary western takes place here and now. The location could be somewhere near you. Equine transport may have given way to ATV’s, and boardwalks have morphed into a harder surface. True to the genre however, Come Sundown has a pretty girl or two, good guys and bad, and a hugely serious problem. Yes, this contemporary western offers more than simple trail dust; there’s action and laughter waiting for you Come Sundown.

books-unleashed-come-sundown

Erotica: A text declined

sandy-dancing-zz

I have racked up yet another “first.” I submitted a very short story to two publishers. One of the publishers, the first to respond, declined my story, Sandy Dancing. They told me that one of their live reviewers read it, and feels that it is:

“…Erotica: The content is primarily of an erotic nature, intended to stir sexual desire.”

Huh? I was floored at the comment. I have a strong hunch that the live reviewer quit reading in the middle of the story. Too bad; for this person would really have been surprised.

It’s the publisher’s choice; so be it. However, Amazon took it, published it, and I’m pleased. If you’re at all curious about this issue, here’s a link to my very first declined story, for being too erotic:

Excitement x 2

 

 

 

 

Fresh Air Love, and Sandy Dancing, give us a very close look at outdoor activity enjoyed by individuals who’ve grown very close to each other. Moments like these must be reassured, and forever remembered.

A growing number of publishers no longer send material like this in plain brown wrappers. Consequently, Fresh Air Love and Sandy Dancing, are available only in digital format.

 

 

Come Sundown

Sundown AA

Nothing aggravates me more than a stranger who shoots at me with a Colt .44. He’s on the sidewalk, and I’m sitting at a stoplight in my ’80 Mustang convertible.

The downtown area of Stopgap, Oklahoma, isn’t a hustling metropolis with shoppers and foot traffic all in a hurry. It’s simply a neat, tidy little town that’s usually fun to visit, and that makes the idea of being shot at more perplexing.

My car is near the center line. I’m waiting to turn left. A teenager pulls up on his motor scooter and stops on my right. His machine idles as we both wait for the light to change…and suddenly it does.

The instant the signal switches from red to green, the scooter backfires…loud as a gunshot. The report startles a man on the sidewalk. He snaps his head in my direction and sees the open end of a black anodized pole sticking over the window ledge of my car, aimed directly at him.

Stopgap has an open-carry gun law. The man on the sidewalk draws his revolver in a flash and blasts off a single shot at me. His aim is poor. My rearview mirror, situated about six inches from my head, explodes in a ball of glass confetti. The slug ricochets off the mirror’s support arm, whistles through the sun-warmed air, and embeds itself in the crotch of a tuxedo-clad mannequin on display in the window of a formalwear shop.

I think, “This ain’t gonna be good, Junior.”

I see a cop with gun drawn; he’s inching along beside a parked car that’s between him and the shooter.

The cop’s face is snow-white. “Drop the gun. Do it now!”

The armed man wheels around, trying to locate the voice.

“Drop the gun and raise both hands. Do it now or I’ll shoot.”

The gunman lets his revolver fall from his hand. It strikes the brick sidewalk and discharges. The right front tire of a new Lexus wheezes loudly and deflates.   

The police officer rushes to the scene and kicks the revolver as hard as he can. It skids over the edge of the curb and vanishes down a storm drain.

“Oh, NO, Junior. This definitely ain’t gonna be a good day.”

The above is from the opening chapter of my book, Come Sundown. This bookk is  available in paperback from Lulu, and in digital format from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and nearly all other eBook distributors. Click here for more information.

Sandy dancing

lovers AA

A bead of wetness dangled from the tip of my nose. I had no idea how much longer I could last.

“More!” she screamed. “I want MORE.”

Her bottom rose up and down. How much more can she take? I wondered.

“Deeper!” she shouted, and I couldn’t hear the sound of the sea anymore. “C’mon. YES!”

I shifted uneasily… inhaled deeply.

The big one came, accompanied by a primordial scream that announced an end to our sandy dance. 

“Oh boy. Yeaaaaah, baby. That’s it.”

I was done too. My work was over.

Locks of her hair were lifted by a soft breeze. Her sparkling eyes locked on mine, and I became acutely aware that we had to go. Overhead, the seagulls had renewed their discussion. Once again, the reality of life was upon us.

She rolled to a sitting position, winked at me, and said, “Now we have enough clams in our basket for a genuine, old-fashioned, New England clambake.”

I carried the basket of shellfish, and she toted the clam rakes back to our cottage.

Sandy Dancing is one of the short stories in my book, Life in the Key of Gee. It’s availabe on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and where ever books in digital format are sold. Click here for more infomation.