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Saturday, December 3, 2016

SATURDAY SNIPPETS - TUFFER'S CHRISTMAS WISH



I will be posting snippets from my holiday books this month. This one, TUFFER'S CHRISTMAS WISH, is the first. This book is NOT a romance. It's a literary short story. 

The main character, Tuffer Demson, is from my First & Ten football romance series. His life story whirled around in my head until I had to tell it. I love Tuffer. He's touched my heart. I hope he will touch yours, as well. 

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It all started when Tuffer Demson, defensive linebacker for the Connecticut Kings, met his biological mother on Christmas Eve. They broke bread once a year, during the holidays. Tuffer met her at the diner at  ten for breakfast. He called her by her given name, since he didn’t remember her ever being his mom. He had someone else he had called that for the past twenty-three years, and he liked it that way.
“Hi, Shayna,” he said, easing his six-foot-three-inch, linebacker body into the booth.
“Hi, yourself,” the blonde said. She eyed him up and down. “You’re looking good. Kings must be agreeing with you.”
“Yep.” These meetings were at her insistence. He could’ve cared less if he never saw her again. But his folks had taught him respect. Besides, it was only once a year.
“What’ll ya have?” the server asked.
Shayna always ordered a huge amount of food—the most expensive dishes too. A side of bacon and sausage with eggs Benedict. A large, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Maybe a sweet bun. She knew Tuffer’d pick up the check, and he always did. She didn’t make much as a waitress, and no one gets residuals on porno flicks, so he understood her need for a splurge—even if it was at her son’s expense.
In the beginning, he’d met with her hoping to find out who his father was. But Shayna had vowed never to reveal the man’s name.
“Think you’re going to the Super Bowl?” She added cream to her coffee.
“We’ve got a good shot.”
“You get a nice, fat bonus for winning, don’t you?”
He nodded and sipped his juice.
“A hundred grand?”
“Not quite that much.”
“Buy yourself a fancy car with that kind of money.”
“I don’t need a fancy car. My SUV is fine.”
“Sometimes, it’s hard to believe you’re my kid,” she said with a chuckle, shaking her head.
“My real mother and father don’t give a shit about stuff.”
Her eyes widened as if she’d been hit. “Got that right. They’re better ’an me. I know. That’s why I left you with them. I knew it’d be better for you.”
“Dumped me with them, you mean.”
“We’ve been over this a hundred times. Do we have to go over it again?”
The server brought their food. There was hardly enough room on the table for all that Shayna had ordered.
“Just be honest. You dumped me because it was good for you, not for me,” said Tuffer.
“I coulda left you at the police station. I picked a nice couple. Ran a preschool. Good with kids. You liked them. They liked you. Seemed like a good bet.”
“Good bet for who?”
“I was twenty. I wasn’t ready to be a mom.”
“And Bev Demson was?”
“Yeah. She told me about the car accident. That she couldn’t have kids. She was jealous I had you.”
“Mom has never been jealous of anyone a day in her life.”
“Yeah? Well, she was jealous of me. She wanted you.” Shayna cut a piece of the Benedict with her fork and put it in her mouth.
Tuffer pushed around the scrambled eggs on his plate. He hated going over this again, but he refused to let her weasel out of the truth.
“They used the lawsuit money to start the school. But she wanted one of her own. And you were it. It was perfect.”
“Perfect for everyone except me.”

“Haven’t you been happy? Bev and Ralph are great parents. A shitload better than I could’ve been.” She picked up a piece of bacon.


If you wish to read the whole story, you can find it in ebook for $.99 here:





Curious about my other works? Find my books HERE.

Monday, November 28, 2016

TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT "ISLAND" House-sitter's Christmas Episode 1 #Christmas #romance


Since A Kings' Christmas has been published, I'm starting something new.  A Christmas story, taking place in New York City.  I will be posting a segment here, every week until the story is done or I make another plan. 

Please feel free to leave comments. It's not written yet. I look forward to your feedback to help me direct it. I hope you enjoy this first, introductory post. Thank you for coming. Scroll down for the link to return to Tuesday Tales and read all the wonderful writers there.  Oh, this story is called, "The House-Sitter's Christmas". 


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Episode 1

Laura Fleming’s pulse kicked up as the bus approached the Lincoln Tunnel. Something magical happened whenever she crossed over from upstate onto Manhattan island. And it being a week before Christmas only made it more fantastic.
The Port Authority Bus Terminal was as bloated with people as usual at Christmas. Mr. C. W. Banley had arranged for a car to pick her up. She was the hired help, the housesitter paid to keep his majestic townhouse occupied and to care for his cat while he traveled on business over the holidays.
This was Laura’s third year housesitting for C.W., as she affectionately referred to him –but never to his face. In fact, she’d never met him. What mattered was her chance to step into the ultimate Christmas fantasy, occupying a grand townhouse on West 81st Street for three delicious weeks.
A man in a livery outfit stood on the crowded sidewalk, holding a sign that read Laura Fleming. She approached him, vouched for her identity and slid into the comfortable vehicle. He closed the door and they were off, wending their way through the dense, holiday traffic.
“First time in the City?” He asked, while they waited at a stop light.
“Oh, no. I’ve been coming at the holidays for several years.”
“It’s a beautiful, if crowded, time to be here.”
“I love it. I live in the country. During the winter, I get cabin fever with all the snow and ice.”
“You own a place here, too?”
She laughed, her light brown hair swinging with the motion. “Oh, no. I could never afford that. I’m the house-sitter.”
“Now that’s a great gig!”
“You bet it is,” she agreed.
The chauffeur maneuvered his way through the congested avenue. Laura looked out the window. All the restaurants and even the delis had strings of Christmas lights. She raised her gaze to the apartment buildings and spied many with Christmas lights in the windows, or elaborately decorated trees, visible from the street.

He pulled up to the gorgeous, Neo-Renaissance townhouse. The driver set her small suitcase on the sidewalk. He refused a tip, saying he’d already been paid. Laura gazed at the beautiful cream colored building with windows lined in black. A large, circular, black, wrought iron staircase beckoned her.
The winter sky was turning teal blue as the sun began to set. She climbed the steps to the large, carved wooden door. A wreath of evergreens, red berries and pine cones hung there, welcoming her. The sharp wind penetrated her coat, making her shiver. She retrieved the key from under the mat and unlocked the door. Anxious to get to the antique pot of hot chocolate Maeve, the housekeeper, always left for her on the little wooden table by the fireplace in the study, Laura wondered if there would be a chocolate croissant or a scone waiting, too. She licked her lips as she crossed the threshold into a luxury she could only dream about. 

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