TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT

Welcome! This week is picture prompt week. We can only write 300 words. I'm continuing with Sly "Bullhorn" Brodsky's story this week. Hope you enjoy it. Click on the link below to return to Tuesday Tales and the excellent stories that await you there. 

Strolling home from The Savage Beast, they chatted. 

“Don’t like virgins?”

“I prefer my women experienced.”

“Your women? I thought you weren’t a player?”

“I’m not. I don’t mess with virgins. Too many regrets, too many girls thinking it means a marriage proposal. Too complicated.”

“I’m glad we got that out of the way.”

“So am I,” he chuckled, shooting her a sexy look.

“I’m being sarcastic, Sly. How many things do you have like that?”

“Like what?”

“Things that disqualify a woman from dating you.”

“None. I don’t have any.”

“Not true! You just said virgins are out.”

“What the hell’s going on, Sam?”

“It’s just what you said about virgins.”

“I said I’m choosy. I don’t go with just any girl. I’m picky. I don’t want to spend my free time with a girl just for sex. She’s got to be someone I want to talk to, go places with, bring to games. You’re right. I do have a list. Here it is. No virgins, no dumb chicks, no alcoholics, no druggies, no smokers, no animal haters, no kid haters, no prissy girls fooling with their makeup all the time, no girls who spend their days shopping, no mean girls, no gabby girls, no girls who hate football. There. That’s the list. Satisfied?”

His eyes glazed over and his lips compressed into a tight frown. He knit his eyebrows. Samantha held her breath for a moment. She tried to make eye contact, but he appeared a million miles away. Sam picked at a nail. Her mouth got dry and her eyes watered.  

“We don’t have to do this. I can take you home if you don’t want to be with me. I understand. Devon’s done a number on me with you.  I get it. No hard feelings.”

*************

Thank you for coming. Look for more of Bull's story next week. 

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RAMBLINGS OF A ROAD TRIPPER

UPDATE! The winning state is Montana -- but there were two runner up states. We saw license plates from Florida, second place - and Wisconsin, third place for distance. 

New neighborhood road trip next time. Thanks for stopping by.

   *********

Since I don't intend to be on the road, driving, in the winter weather, I'm adding a subgenre to my road trip posts: road tripping in New York City. Even though I'm a native --born and bred heree, there are so many places I haven't been. 

   I will be making forays into new places by subway. That's right, getting off at a stop that's brand new to me, poking around the neighborhood, eating lunch and reporting back on what I've found --complete with my own pictures. Here are some I've taken today, at the Museum of Natural History --down the block from me.

    To kick this off, this week I'm posting about those who are road-tripping TO New York City for the marathon. 
  I'm going to be checking out my block to find the car that's traveled the farthest. Today I did see a Delaware license plate and a Maryland one. But they're small potatoes. The winner is...drum roll please:

MONTANA! Parked right on my block.
   Tourists are clogging the city. Central Park was mobbed yesterday afternoon. It's impossible to walk down the sidewalk without making way for runners, preparing for the marathon. 

   I shouldn't complain. The marathon brings a ton of revenue to the city. So, yes, welcome, you out-of-towners, and don't forget your credit cards. 
   I won't be trying to get into my favorite restaurant. I'll be content to stay inside and hawk the street looking for the rarest license plate --one that's traveled farther than Montana. 

   And taking pictures of our glorious fall trees. 
  Watch for my post on Sunday with the final count on the car that came the longest way to my fair city. 

Thanks for stopping by.

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TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT "GOLD"

Welcome! This week I continue with Bullhorn Brodsky's story. Thanks for coming. Don't forget to check out the fantastic stories on Tuesday Tales, use the link below. 

************************ 

The waiter seated them at a table in the corner. The furniture was bamboo with green and white print tablecloths depicting all sorts of plants. There were huge potted palms and other flora decorating the restaurant. Bull like the atmosphere, almost like a tropical rain forest.

They ordered raspberry iced tea and a plate of hearts of palm and olives as an appetizer.

Samantha picked up the dish with the gold sun design in the center. “I don’t have dishes. So much to buy. I forgot how expensive it is to set up an apartment.” She sighed.

“Let me help you. I can give you whatever you need.”

She took his hand. “I can’t do that Sly. The point of moving out of my brother’s house was to be independent.”

“Okay, so call it a loan. You can pay me back, uh…never. How’s that?”

She smiled at him. “That’s so sweet. I just can’t. The director at the shelter is having surgery She asked me to take over while she recuperates. It’s only part-time, but that extra income along with my job at the Kings should do it.”

“You’ll be working all the time. When will we get a chance to hang out?”

He raised her hand to his lips.

“I’ll still have time for you.”

He gazed into her eyes and caught a glimpse of something warm. Was it desire? His heart beat a little faster.

“I’ve never been to a place like this. Do you know anything about this kind of food?” He asked, his brow furrowed as he read the menu.

“A little. I see those sweet potato fries,” she said, arching her eyebrows as she studied the offerings.

“I’ll have those. What else?”

“A veggie burger?”

“With enough catsup, you can eat anything,” he said, but his voice didn’t ring confident.

Sam laughed.

They placed their orders, two veggie burgers and two sweet potato fries.

While they waited for their food, Sam sipped her drink.

Bull took her small hand between his. “What did you do before you worked for The Kings?”

“I worked in a small fashion boutique.”

“I can believe it.”

“What does that mean?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I mean, you dress real nice. Beautiful. I can see you working in fashion.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She looked down at their hands entwined.

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “You don’t think I’d say something nasty, do you?”

“I’m still wondering why my brother doesn’t like you.”

Sly sensed his face heating. “It’s just guy crap. You know we say stuff. Stuff about women. It doesn’t mean anything. I mean I’d never say anything like that about you.”

“Did you say stuff about old girlfriends?”

He shook his head. “Most guys just make stuff up.”

“So you’re saying you’re a liar?”

The waiter arrived with their food, interrupting their conversation. Bull shifted in his seat, looking for a way to change the subject.

When the waiter left, she raised her eyebrows at him. “So?”

“It’s not lying, exactly. Guys exaggerate.” He loaded a third of the catsup jar onto his burger.

“Devon doesn’t do that, does he?”

Sly laughed. “Oh yeah? If he doesn’t, then he’s been dating a couple of female gymnasts,” he chuckled.

Samantha’s face reddened as she turned her attention to her food. They ate in silence for a while. He wolfed down the fries, then attacked the burger.

Change the subject, muscle head.

“Movie tonight?”

Thank you for coming. Come back next week for another installment.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "CORN"

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?”

“Two.”

“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?

“Thanks.”

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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Ramblings of a Road Tripper

Welcome! Thanks for joining me. This new column is one that has been baking in the back of my brain. I take a few trips a year to conferences around the country and a few country excursions just for fun. This is my first Ramblings of a Road Tripper column about my car trip to Pittsburgh. Thanks for coming on board. I hope you enjoy the journey.

PITTSBURGH HO!

I love the backroads of Pennsylvania, especially in the fall. 

I first became acquainted with them when my son, Steve, and I were in our third construction traffic jam on the highway. We were bringing him to Juniata College and the delays were making me crazy. I tossed the map to him and said, "Get us to Huntingdon" as I pulled off on an unfamiliar exit. 

   He did a beautiful job finding lovely roads that wound this way and that, through heavily wooded areas or small, quaint towns and farms abutting the hilly road. (Note: these are all stock photos, not taken by me.) 

   When he graduated, my excuse for exploring these road through the Allegheny mountains went away. I missed those trips. Then Steve moved to Pittsburgh. When we bought a car, hitting the back roads was on my mind. 
   His birthday, October 1, was the perfect excuse for a road trip. Roads like this make me want to stay behind the wheel all day. 
   There are many roads like this on my trip and I'm loving it. 

    As I drive by small farms, and houses, I wonder how the people there live. What do they do for fun? What kind of jobs do they have? How far do they have to drive to the grocery store? To school? 

Fall in the Alleghenies is breath-taking, beautiful beyond desccription. Even the rolls of hay add to the picture. 

How do the farmers fare in the winter? Is it too costly to maintain the barn? Who plows for them? Do they heat their houses with wood cut from their own land? 


   One memorable tiny town is Mifflinville, population 1253 at the last census.  I love to drive through the short stretch of road that passes through the tiny town. It's familiar, so I know I'm not lost. 

   I'm not much of a winter driver. Ice, snow, cold and a deserted road in freezing temperatures represent peril, not pleasure to me. So I'll be home. But you can bet I'll be planning a spring road trip. In fact, I'm working on a romance writer reading and signing at a cafe in Huntingdon. But more on that when the time draws near. 
   Next column will include Pittsburgh itself.  Until then, thanks for stopping by. Wishing you fun and safe travels.
   Please leave a comment. I love feedback.


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