It`s time for Tuesday
Tales.
Today we have a snippet
from my new MM contemporary nightclub book, The
Bachelor & The Balladeer, Tales of the Scarlet Owl #1. In this excerpt,
Cab has had his epiphany about The Scarlet Owl and is telling his partner about
his exciting news.
This story may have gay
erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those
things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks
for stopping by!
Fifty
minutes later, I was roaring into Maurice’s driveway out in Hidden Hills. I
fairly leaped out of the Caddy, the safety strap never having been buckled, my bare feet slapping on the smooth driveway
leading up to the stunning Santa Barbara style home. My partner was not exactly
happy to see me at his door when he finally yanked it open. Small dogs barked
madly upstairs.
“Cab,
it’s six o’what-the-fuck in the
morning,” he snapped while tugging his droopy boxers up a bit higher.
“Sorry
about the early hour but I had a vision,” I told him as I pushed around him and
stepped into the airy Spanish influenced foyer. Pale adobe walls, rounded
archways, and a large brass and wood chandelier welcomed you warmly to the
sprawling seven-thousand square foot mansion. Five beds, seven baths, Olympic
sized pool, perfectly tended grounds, and a garage that housed a Bentley, a
Lamborghini, a Rolls, and a Corvette from the early seventies. And those were
just Maurice’s cars. Colette had a new Mercedes. Quite the step up from sleeping where you worked and naming the
cockroaches that shared your abode.
“If
you tell me you woke me up because you found God, I will kick your skinny black ass
all the way back to Quebec,” he grumbled, what little hair he had left standing
straight up.
“No,
I did not find God, but I did find my
destiny.” I grabbed his hands in mine. My gaze found his. “Maurice, I want to
open a nightclub.” He stared at me, his face void of any emotion. “Did you hear
me?”
“This
is why I’m standing here in my underwear? A nightclub? Really? For fuck sake,
Cab, go invest in a nightclub then.” He tried to pull free but I held onto his
hands for dear life.
“Non, I don’t want to just invest in a
nightclub, I want to open one. Build it from scratch. Make it mine, fill it
with the music that we love. Hire the best singers and entertainers and gear it
towards the gay market. The staff will dress like they did in the forties. The
music will be live, the singers real, and the drinks top shelf!”
“Okay,
fine,” he said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “We can find a place somewhere in LA
for this new gay club. Can I go back to bed now?” He jerked on his hands again.
I tightened my grip. His thick eyebrows knotted. “You have something stuck in
your mustache. Is that a pimento? Also, you don’t smell so good.”
I
wiggled my nose to try to dislodge the pimento from my mustache. “Apologies for
the smell and the pimento. I threw Mateo out last night and dove into some
Glenfiddich.”
“Ah,
that explains why you look like something one of Colette’s pug dogs left in the
back yard.”
“Probably,
yes.” I wished I had showered, but the rush of excitement had pushed me out the
door so that I could share my news with my friend. “But, I don’t want to open
my club here in LA. I want away from this city. Far away. I need to begin anew.
So, with that in mind, I am going to sell you my share of Cabriolet Music, move
to the east coast, and be a club owner. I think I’ll unload the beach house as
well. I never go there. And I will need the twelve million that I paid for it
for start-up costs and incidentals. Ah, well, I will also have the money you
pay me for my half of the business, so I should be sound financially until the
club grows popular. What do you think?!”
“I
think you just crashed right into a fucking midlife crisis,” Maurice stated and
jerked his hands out of mine. I shook my head. Maurice gave me a questioning
once over.
“I
know I look a little hungover.” He pinched some air between his thumb and
forefinger. Colette’s dogs were losing their minds up on the second floor. “And
I am, yes. But, this is not the booze talking. Maurice, I woke up and Holiday Inn was playing. It’s a sign.”
He
slapped a hand over his face.
Copyright 2017
©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
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5 comments:
Wow! Sounds like a midlife crisis to me too. Great excerpt!
What a great beginning to a new story! And I love the line "naming the cockroaches..." brilliant. This story is bursting with promise. Looking forward to this new book..
love the idea of a club and made from scratch with what he wants. I also would love to live in that mansion if someone else was cleaning it. LOL
Thank you all!
Love the priceless way that door was answered!
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