TUESDAY TALES - RIDE

 Welcome! Today I'm posting another snippet from my WIP in my football series, First & Ten. This is the Pete Sebastian, Coach Bass, story. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales.

                                       COACH BASS  

Pete shaved with care, thinking about the stats he got from Carl about Jo Parker. Age: 33, single, never married, B.A. degree, magna cum laude. That she was beautiful, curvy and classy he could figure out for himself. So, I’m a little older than she is. So what? Ten years. Today –that’s nothing. He smiled as the razor glided through the thick coating of cream on his face. 

Words from his daughter, Mikki –the fashionista—echoed in his head. Dad, gotta dress better or you’ll never get a date. He’d let her pick out clothes and show him how to put together the best suit, shirt and tie combination. With his light brown hair and hazel eyes, Mikki would have chosen green, his best color.
He shrugged the shirt over his broad shoulders and picked a dark gold tie from the rack. He pulled on khaki pants pressed to knife-sharp creases. A forest green wool jacket completed the outfit. He looked in the full length mirror as he combed his thick hair. Never cared what I wore to work. But now there’s a goddess in the office next to me.
Mikki would approve. He smiled as he plucked his keys from the ceramic bowl filled with loose change. He entered the front office section of the stadium, whistling. Blood rushed through his veins.
Coach Bass was feeling sexy. Jo’s office was around the next bend.
Feminine laughter greeted his ears, making his grin wider. But the smile melted into a frown when his eyes beheld the scene before him. Jo, at her desk, a pen in her mouth, gazed up, laughing with Devon Drake, running back and womanizer.  Pete followed Dev’s gaze, which rested on Jo’s cleavage.          

Shit! He’s gonna take her for a ride. Coach Bass scowled at the young player as he flirted with Jo. Fuck. Twenty-four hours and I’m already too late. 

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SUMMER VACATIONS AT FIRE ISLAND! COME HOP WITH ME! #MFRWave #MFRWauthor

Welcome to the Summer Vacation Blog Hop!! Summer vacation memories...
    In my single days, I spent many summers on the beach at Fire Island, New York. Young men and women rented houses and lived together on weekends all summer long. 
 You didn't need much clothing, just a couple of bathing suits, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt or two. Oh, and flip-flops!

   There's nothing on Fire Island -- no roads, no cars, hardly any stores, maybe a couple of restaurants and bars. 
That's it. Some towns had only a small store. You had to take a water taxi to get from town to town.  The island was beautiful, with glorious sunsets, clear clean water, bright sun and cloudless, blue skies. The ocean was on one side and the bay on the other. I had my first shower in the sunshine in an outdoor shower! And, no, I'm not going to tell you if I was in there alone.

The main drag is a wood path. The houses sit on sand. The front lawn is sand and the trees are scrub pines. The atmosphere is laid back. We played cards, drank cocktails, and cooked together. 

We went to the nude beach and made love with whoever we wanted. It was a free era, a long time ago.
I adored my time there. I made friends and broke out of my shell. 

I've put aside my privacy rule and written about Fire Island in my book, LOVE'S LAST CHANCE, from my series, Hollywood Hearts.
Please leave a comment and your EMAIL ADDRESS for a chance to win a copy, or any other copy of one of my books. I'll pick 2 winners. Please say "yes" if you'd like to receive my new newsletter. 
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TUESDAY TALES - FATHER

Welcome! This week I'm exploring another character from my new series, First & Ten. Meet Pete Sebastian, a/k/a, Coach Bass.

******

Pete Sebastian looked forward to Father’s Day. His twin daughters, Emily and Mikki, were Daddy’s little girls from the minute they were born. They cooked up something special for him every year, always taking him by surprise.

After his wife left the girls with him to “find herself”, he had to become the disciplinarian and the nurturer. Neither role suited him naturally, but he learned and adjusted, priding himself on a job pretty well done for a man starting at square one. Hell, coaching a football team was a piece of cake compared to raising two girls on his own.
Now they were in college and his job at home wasn’t quite so full time. He wondered if he could find another woman, a better one. Pete turned forty-three and had no idea where to begin when it came to dating. 

He knew what he wanted. This time he’d choose I.Q. over bra size. No more flighty, self-absorbed women, no matter how willing. No sir. Had to be an intelligent woman. But pretty.
Sexy wouldn’t hurt. Did he remember how to make love to a woman? Yes, it had been that long because his daughters came first and that didn’t leave much time for a sex life.

Pete watched his men spruce up in the locker room for dates. He envied them the beautiful women on their arms. Carl Woodley, owner of the Connecticut Kings, patted him on the shoulder.
“Now the girls are out of the house, when are you gonna get a woman?”
“Not many women looking for an old man like me.”
“You’re not old. Hell, even I’m not old at sixty-six!”
At five o’clock, the administration offices cleared out. He’d been hoping Carl might hire some bright young woman in the front office, but no such luck. A new P.R. guy, Joe-something was due to start soon.

Plucking his jacket off the hook, Pete resigned himself to another night at The Savage for a couple of brews and a burger.  Totally preoccupied, he walked out of his office and smacked into someone coming down the hall at a good clip. He looked up with tired eyes.

Huge, startled, green eyes blinked.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I’m looking for Mr. Woodley.”
“Carl? Just missed him.” Pete’s gaze flew down the slim, female body wearing a dark gray suit and a blue shirt. He noticed lovely curves and had to stop staring before he began to blush.
“Can I help you?”
“You are?” She straightened, pulling her jacket down, revealing a little cleavage. Pete’s gaze went straight to her chest.
“Uh, um. Pete Sebastian, Coach of the Kings,” he said, feeling like a schoolboy with his first boner.

“Josephine Parker. Please call me, Jo,” she smiled and extended her hand. The room got several thousand watts brighter. Pete took her small, soft fingers in his and didn’t want to let go. “I’m the new P.R. Director.”
“So you’re Joe? Well, well, what a surprise.” 

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BEST OF...EVERYDAY HEROES

EVERYDAY HEROES

Although we sometimes berate men for not communicating more, most men share their love by doing, not talking. Today I honor those men, the ones who help for the sake of helping...the men who do small unselfish acts everyday. 

Today is your day guys as I dedicate this blog to my everyday heroes, men I know and don't know who have touched my life in positive ways...you know who you are:
1) To the two gentlemen who stopped, briefly, to pick me up, one guy on each arm, when I slipped and fell at the bottom of the wet subway stairs on a rainy day.
2) To the man who stopped in the parking lot of Peck's grocery store in Narrowsburg. The second I put my hands under the hood of my car, he was there, asking me what was wrong and if I needed help. Then he proceeded to show me where to put in the wiper fluid, unscrewed the cap to the little tank and left before I even made eye contact!
3)  To all the men on the streets of New York who have stopped to pick up whatever I dropped before I even bent my knees. Klutz that I am, that number is huge.

4)  To my friend in the community who came down to the lake because I told him I was going there to swim by myself and he felt it was unsafe.
5)  To all the men on airplanes who, when seeing me with a large carry-on bag, stood up and put it in the overhead rack for me without even being asked. And also, to those who took it down for me when we landed.
6)  To the thousands upon thousands of men who have held doors open for me, allowing me to pass through first.
7)  To the two young men on line in the grocery store who offered their frequent buyer cards to me so I could get the discounts, too. 
8)  To the man who took the dead mouse out of my mousetrap and disposed of it for me. Yucky! 
9)  To all the young men in high school and college who politely took "no" for an answer and either still continued to date me or became my friend.
10) To all the men who got up to give me a seat on the bus or subway when I was pregnant.
11) To my male writer friends in NRW who encourage me every day and still flirt with me.
12) To the men I met on countless vacations who danced with me, bought me a drink at the bar and didn't hit on me.
13) To the man who came to the emergency room with me on a first date, waited forever and held my hand while I got a tetanus shot. 
14)  To my writing partner, Ben, who encourages me every day, never tells me my ideas are dumb or gives me a hard time about my typos or lack of punctuation…and listens, patiently, to me rant about life.
15) To the man who took two hours out of his day to show me how to do my website for the price of a bagel.

16) To the two men who took my pictures and designed book covers for me just because they are my friends.
17) To the man who walked me home after dark when I ducked into a bar because someone was following me...and took "no" for an answer with charm and grace. 
18) To the man who drove me through a blinding snowstorm and back so I could bring a stray cat with an infected paw to the vet.
19) To Doug, our guest, who surprised me with a Tiramisu cake just because I had admired it in the bakery window. 

20) To the man who jumped into a Facebook group to defend me when several people attacked my opinion.
21) To all the men who let me go first...from the checkout counter at the grocery store to the bread counter at Zabar's... simply because I'm a woman. 
22) To the unknown young man who gave me a lift 60 blocks up Madison Avenue to Mt. Sinai Hospital when the subway wasn't running and my father was in surgery.
23) To the men in IRM who are never stingy with hugs or encouragement.
24) To DH who sometimes fixes things before I ask.

To all you everyday heroes, thank you. Thank you for all you've done and continue to do quietly without fanfare...and for the shy smile you give me when I acknowledge your help. Love you all!

Who are the everyday heroes in your life?

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT

 

This week we are continuing with our football series, tentatively titled "First and Ten". This is Griff Montgomery's story. This post is limited to 300 words as are all the Tuesday Tales picture prompts. Thank you for stopping by. 

*****  

   Leslie Ferraday looked up at the sky as she walked from the parking lot to the courthouse. Do I still have an umbrella in the trunk? She chewed her lip. This silk suit will be ruined. 
   She came to appear in civil court for a suit she brought against Griff Montgomery. She was trying to get her pug, Zander, back.

Griff had taken possession of the dog. Claimed to have saved his life. Told the police she had neglected the animal. But it was all wrong.

   Her ex-husband, Bob, was to blame. When she heard about her dad being hospitalized, she asked Bob to put Zander in the doggie hotel. She was gone for three weeks, much longer than she expected. Seems in his rush to move to L.A., Bob forgot about Zander, an animal he never liked anyway.

   Tears gathered in her eyes as she considered the possibility of losing the suit. Zander and a half empty house were all she had. She sighed a deep shuddering breath as she approached the courthouse.

   When she turned the corner, she almost ran into Griff Montgomery. The six foot six football player stood, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit and white shirt.

   Cameras clicked and reporters swarmed around the charismatic quarterback. Her heart sank as she watched him smile with confidence. Even his stance shouted “winner”. He’s famous. I’m nobody.  I don’t stand a chance.

   A loud crack interrupted her thoughts. The clouds moved in swift, angry bunches, then the heavens opened up. She ran inside in time to avoid being drenched. 

   Her shoulders drooped. She blinked rapidly as her gaze connected with Griff’s. His eyes narrowed as she brushed away a runaway tear, before she turned her back and escaped to the ladies room.

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