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Monday, October 19, 2015


Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week starts a new story, that of Sly "Bullhorn" Brodsky, offensive lineman for the Connecticut Kings. This will be the next book in my First & Ten series. I'm writing it now, so it's a work-in-progress, just like Maggie's Story and Unpredictable Love. I hope you enjoy the excerpts, which will continue until the book is published. Caution: locker room language.


As he climbed the stairs with a box of books balanced on his shoulder, Bullhorn Brodsky shook his head slightly to remove the sexy, come-hither, naked fantasy of Samantha Drake in his brain. His blood pressure returned to normal when he dropped his burden on the bedroom floor. The pretty, dark-haired young woman wearing snug jeans and a T-shirt sank down on the new bed. As their gazes connected, his libido cranked up his temperature.  
“What’s next?” He wiped the sweat off his forehead on the bottom of his T-shirt. When he lowered it, he noticed she had been staring at his abs. A gentle flush stole into the apple of her cheeks. He smiled inwardly, gratified that all the hours he spent in the gym had paid off.
“I’m grubby, I need a shower,” she said pushing to her feet to glance in the mirror.
The next image to take over his mind was stepping into a steamy shower behind Samantha. He blinked a few times and took a deep breath.
“You okay? Were the boxes too much?” Her dark chocolate brown eyes held concern.
He laughed. “You kiddin’? That’s nothin’. I take down guys ten times that weight in every game. Geez. What do you think? I’m a pussy or something?”
She made a face.
“Sorry. I need to clean up my words.” He sensed color in his cheeks. He’d never had a girlfriend like Samantha Drake. She was smart, beautiful and nice –she did volunteer work at the New Life Shelter for battered women and kids. But she wasn’t his girlfriend, only a friend –with no benefits. He sighed.
“Devon talks like that, too. You’d think football players never went to college.” She handed him a cold bottle of water.
He downed the liquid. “What’s next?”
She turned around in the room and sucked her lower lip between her teeth.
“Bed. Books, clothes. Rocking chair. Hmm. How many boxes are still in the car?”
“Then that’s it. The place looks pretty empty.” She perched on the bed, tucking her feet under her.
“You’ll have it furnished before you know it. Come on. I’m gonna bring those boxes up, then take you out to dinner.”
“Thanks. Be right back.” Her thousand-watt smile turned his innards to jelly.
He sat in the rocking chair while Samantha washed the dirt off her luscious body –or what he assumed was luscious. Sylvester “Bullhorn” Brodsky, known to his teammates as “Bull” had the hots for Samantha Drake, and it was keeping him up nights. While he waited for her to want him back, his imagination ran through a half dozen things he’d like to do to her under the warming spray of hot water. She was a little slip of a thing and he was huge. Six foot three inches tall and two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle, the offensive lineman could lift her up with one hand.
Samantha joined him in the living room. She was wearing a red dress and red strappy sandals.
“Wow, you look awesome.”  Is that corny?
They headed for the stairs.
“My own key. Just for me,” she sighed, dangling the new key ring from her finger.
“Yep. Independent.”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a new place in town called The Greenery. It’s vegetarian. Salads and shit. Wanna try it?”
“And shit? I don’t think I want to eat that. But a salad sounds good.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
She laughed. “I’m proud of you --going someplace that doesn’t have fries.”
“I didn’t say that. Their fries are organic. Sweet potato fries.” He grinned as he opened the car door for her. 
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