It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Welcome back! This week we have another excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel, Breakout, which is book #2 in my upcoming Brighton Wood Blades M/M hockey series. This book introduces us to Todd Oleksuk, a defenseman on the Blades who is still deeply closeted, and Lee Odette, a drag queen who will capture and free the heart of Mr. Oleksuk. Our snippet today is Todd’s point-of-view and shows just how far he’s willing to go to get another chance to see Lee.
Since this is an M/M romance, there may be some same-sex frolicking taking place as well as mature language. If that offends, now is the time to skedaddle along to another Tuesday Tales offering. Our word prompt for this week is “Town”.
I rose and went in search of a couple things. My shoes, a coat, my car keys and the card that Cab had given me at the drag show. I found them all in my tiny bedroom. As I pulled on my coat, my heart hammered behind my ribs. I was terrified and exhilarated. The Barracuda took some time to warm up but once the windshield was clear I was as well. Excitement took a broom to the doubts and fears, at least for a little while. I drove like a man possessed up to Corning, thankful for my years of trucking for a small delivery company in Gang Mills before I went indie, where my ex and boys still live. I knew the Corning and Elmira area as well as I knew myself. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best analogy since I had no clue who Todd Oleksuk really was.
Those forty minutes on a slushy road were taxing and not only because of the wet snow stuck to the highway. As I neared Corning the snow started coming down harder. It probably would have been a good idea to check the Weather Channel before I had bulled off in search of my free gay self. The ‘Cuda wasn’t exactly the best winter car ever designed. She was a little light in the ass, and even though I had put some sandbags in the trunk for added weight, she liked to slew a bit on turns. But, there was no turning back. I’d just passed the Glass Museum. A couple more blocks would find me at The Scarlet Owl. I pulled up to a light, the snow falling at a heavier rate than just ten minutes ago.
The wipers were clearing the wet and sticky snow nicely. Dan Fogelberg was singing “Longer” as I made the left and crept down the street, my eyes straining to see the club through the snowfall. Another block slowly went by and then I saw it. For some reason, I had expected something ostentatious or at least flamboyant. The Scarlet Owl as not at all flashy. It was sedate by today’s standards. And oddly familiar. I drove around the side of the club and pulled under a porte cochère. A young man hustled out to my car, his red vest and cap catching snow rapidly. The town seemed eerily quiet as traffic was almost nonexistent.
“Welcome to The Scarlet Owl,” he said with a smile as he opened my door. I left the car running and climbed out, giving the valet a serious look.
“She’s light in the rear,” I warned as wind whipped around us, blowing snow up into our faces. He tapped the brim of his cap and climbed into my car.
“If you’d like to get out of the weather, Sir?”
I glanced up to see an older man, perhaps in his late fifties, motioning me toward another set of doors, much the same as the one out front. The only difference was that this one didn’t have THE SCARLET OWL in glowing crimson script arched over the heavy wooden doors.
“Rick’s Café Américain,” I blurted when I remembered where I had seen doors similar to these before. The doorman smiled widely, snow battering us as I stood there like a dimwit admiring doors. “Oh, sorry. I bet you’d like to stand inside. Here.” I pulled out the heavy business card. The doorman took one look at it, removed his spiffy red hat, and pulled open the door. Smoke, heat, music, laughter, and a kind of excitement that I had never experienced before reached out and pulled me into the nightclub. I took four steps in and hit a sensory sort of brick wall. My brain was scrabbling to get all the information it wanted downloaded. “Holy shit,” I whispered.
Copyright 2016 ©by V.L. Locey
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