It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have a snippet from Last Defense, Harrisburg Railers #5, an MM hockey romance book coauthored with RJ Scott that we’re currently writing. In this excerpt we’re introduced to Benton ‘Ben’ Worthington, one half of our couple. Ben is the manager of the Crossroads Animal Shelter and is, sadly, a young widower.
Our word prompt today is “Heat”.
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!
“No, see that’s not exactly the kind of…we’re hoping to open up the search for more volunteers to help out over the summer.” I leaned back in my chair, grimacing a bit when the old gal creaked loudly. The AC blowing into my face was measly but given I’d had it in that window for years, and it had been donated, it was doing all I could ask of it to combat the heat. Papers shuffled about on my desk, the semi-cool air rustling over the mounds of paperwork that now fell to me. Gone were the days spent working with the animals at the Crossroads Shelter. Now Ben Worthington spent most of his time in this damn office, talking on the damn phone, trying to wheedle rich people into giving us more of their damn money. It really kind of sucked.
Leaning back a bit more, I let my eyes drift shut as Lenny over at the Harrisburg Herald rambled on and on about the cost of ads and how he didn’t feel he could continue giving us a discount.
“No, we do understand. I need you to understand that we need every penny of help we can get. We’re a no-kill shelter. We’re not state supported. Every dime – I know I tell you this all the time. That’s because you complain about taking five percent off the cost of an ad every time I call.”
Lenny then prattled on a bit more about overhead.
Yeah, tell me about overhead, Lenny. I know all about it.
The harping turned into a droning noise, like Charlie Brown’s teacher, and my mind began to wander. My gaze touched on the personal things nearly buried under the mounds of papers on my desk. A laptop with the shelter logo of a dog, a cat, and a human standing at a crossroads, bouncing around the screen. The laptop made a funny squeaking sound when I turned it on in the morning, but we ignored that. An empty coffee cup with the same logo on it, several books about miserable things like fundraising objectives, managerial and administrative duties in today’s modern shelters, and a gay romance.
I picked up the book, flipped it open, and continued reading about a con man and a stripper who were working together to outfox some Mafiosi. The plot was a little weak, but the sex was hot and oh my stars the romance was incredible. I missed romance. I missed that emotional connection to another man. I missed meaningful sex too. The few hookups I’d had since losing Liam had been cold and mechanical. I missed Liam so badly I ached.
Copyright 2017 ©by V.L. Locey
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