It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Welcome back! This week we have the final excerpt from my novel, Breakout, which is book #2 in my upcoming Brighton Wood Blades M/M hockey series. I’ll be wrapping this book up within few days and will be starting something new for 2017! 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 taken from near the end of the book and is one of Lee’s favorite chapters.
Since this is an M/M romance, so 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 “Snow”.
“Explain this tradition to me again.”
I looked up from the box of dyed eggs on Mah-Mac’s big kitchen table. “You are such a Yankee,” I sighed playfully. Todd chuckled. Guess he’d gotten used to hearing that over the past week. A warm, moist air blew through the old house. I breathed deep, sucking as much bayou into my lungs as I possibly could. The past five days had been magical, truly. I am not just being dramatic. Riding down south with Todd in his big rig to visit my Mah-Mac over Easter had been his idea. One that I leaped on like a hungry old tom cat would jump on a canary with a broken wing.
“I warned you about falling in love with them Northern boys,” Mah-Mac commented from over at the stove.
“We boil and color them too,” Todd interjected as the aromas of Easter dinner cooking vied with the sweet smell of Louisiana wafting in the windows. “We just don’t pock them.”
I poured the man a little more sweet tea as he removed and examined one of two dozen hard-boiled and flamboyantly colored eggs. The wind blew around us, lifting the sheers on the windows. I was in my glory. It was close to eighty degrees here at Mah-Mac’s home. When we had left Pennsylvania a week ago, it had been forty-six degrees. There was still snow on the ground at Todd’s little cabin. Snow. On Easter. How does one hide eggs in snow banks? Thank you but I’ll spend my Easter in shorts and a cute crop top. You can call me a sissy Southern boy all you want. Sticks and stones, honey.
“You want to watch Lee,” Mah-Mac announced after waddling over to supervise the pocking. “He’s been known to use duck eggs instead of chicken eggs.”
“That is an untruth!” I waved my purple egg at the dear old soul. “Can I help it if your eggs are weak? No, I cannot. I insist this impugning of my egg pocking skills stops this instant.”
Mah-Mac stood behind Todd, her age-spotted hands resting on his wide shoulders. She liked him. I could tell.
Copyright 2016 ©by V.L. Locey
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