Greener

Mayor Gil sat at his desk in his darkened office at City Hall, with a glass of scotch and tired thoughts playing through his head. It was past time to head home, but he didn’t want to subject Chloe and the kids to his sour mood. Better to sit here and work through his issues before he packed it in for the night.

Pack it in, yeah. Am I doing any good here? Has me being Mayor made a difference? Maybe I should just retire before the next election. Let some other poor bastard put up with the crazy. He sipped his scotch. I could use a sign.

A bat flew in the open window.

Gil leaped up and grabbed a broom, but stopped himself before he started swinging. For all he knew, this could be one of his constituents. Sure enough, the bat reformed itself into Brandon Fledermaus. Gil set the broom aside. “Jesus. Call first, willya?”

“Sorry. I wanted to keep this meeting quiet.” He eyed the broom. “You keep a broom in the Mayor’s office?”

“In case of messy accidents. You’d be amazed how often those happen.” Or maybe he wouldn’t. This was, after all, Talbot’s Peak. Gil returned the broom to the closet and pulled out a robe, which he offered to Brand. “I get a lot of unexpected visitors, too. It pays to be prepared. Drink?”

“Thanks.” Brand pulled on the robe while Gil poured a second glass of scotch. They both took chairs before the desk.

Gil thought, Now here’s a guy who’s got it all. Handsome, powerful, rich. A rodent shifter, yeah, but one who commanded respect. People were afraid of bats. Nobody was afraid of a squirrel. “So what can I do for you?”

“I’m mostly here for information. Giving and receiving. I was attacked last night, by people who claimed they were sent by Damien Hancock.”

Gil didn’t miss the phraseology. “Claimed?”

“They weren’t pure wolf shifters. I’ve never heard of Damien using anyone who wasn’t pure wolf. He doesn’t believe in mixing species. The incident as a whole didn’t have his stamp on it, so I’m poking around.”

“This happened last night?” Gil paused thoughtfully. “You may not have been the only one. Something got Hancock all stirred up last night. And apparently there was some kind of power outage at the Ghan compound. Hamsters,” he explained. “They run the electric company.”

“All three of us?” Brand studied his drink. “That’s not coincidence. Sounds like somebody wants to stir up trouble between the Peak’s movers and shakers.”

“Shit,” Gil said. “Not again. I do not need this.” He polished off his scotch. “How’d you like to be Mayor?”

Brand frowned. “You’re not resigning, are you?”

“Been thinking about it. I mean, it’s not the best job in the world, especially in a town like this. The pay sucks—I still work at Rattigan’s to make ends meet. The people elected me to lead them and then bitch about how I do it. I get chased by wolf cubs and cats on a regular basis. And nobody, I mean nobody, respects a squirrel. You want the job, it’s yours. You’re a local. People know you. They’ll listen to you. You’ve got the looks, the money and the brains to make it in politics, and the guts to lead this zoo. Nobody’s gonna chase you to the top of the Christmas tree, that's for damn sure.”

“Sounds exciting,” Brand said dryly. “Did I mention the attempt on my life?”

“Only one? Welcome to my world.” Gil sighed. “I’ll talk to the bunnies. They’re everywhere, they hear everything. I can drop by the diner when Louie’s not looking. Anything the bunnies didn’t hear, I’ll bet Elly did. Anything you find out, you keep me informed. This whole town is a freakin’ circus, but I guess it’s still my circus. Besides, us rodents gotta stick together.”

“Thanks.” Brand finished his drink and got up. “You’ve got more support than you realize. You wouldn’t have won two elections if this town didn’t want you as their Mayor. You’ll either hear from me directly or through my man Jerboa.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll use the phone.”

“Appreciate it.”

Brand shrugged out of the robe and prepared to shift. Then he paused. Gil glanced around. Brand was studying the photo on his desk, the one of him with Chloe and the munchkins. Gil only sort of liked the photo. He’d been up half the night dealing with feedings. Photo-Gil looked ready to nod off.

“Your family?” Brand asked. Gil nodded. Brand sighed. “You have no idea how lucky you are.” He shifted and flapped out the window.

Gil sat with his empty glass a little longer. He looked at the photo for a while. Then he got up, shut the window, locked up the office and went home.

# # #

“I was just about to call you,” Chloe said as he walked in the front door. “You weren’t home and nobody’d seen you. I was getting worried—” She broke off on an oomph when Gil caught her up and hugged her tight. “Well!” she gasped when he let her get her breath back. “What was that about?”

“You know that old saying, about the grass being greener on the other side of the fence?” Gil said. “Well, I just realized I’ve got the greenest damn lawn in Talbot’s Peak.So what's for dinner? Whatever it is, I guarantee it'll be my favorite."

Taking Time to Remember Our Fallen

Gill stepped up to the microphone, looked down at his speech, and swallowed.  Many of the Peak’s citizens turned out for the festivities in the park.  Grills with lit charcoal briquettes in them stood close to many of the picnic tables.  Portable ones sat next to the tables and chairs others brought with them.  Earlier games pitted adults against children and those in similar age brackets too.  A lot of fun and happiness filled the air.  Now silence and staring filled it instead.

“My fellow citizens,” he began. “Many gave their lives to keep us safe.  I’m not talking shape shifter or supernatural only.  Many humans fought on foreign shores to keep others safe too.  We continue to do so as a country.  Here at home, many take on the task of keeping us safe within our fine country.”

A few murmurs sounded.  Several heads nodded.  A youngster stood up with a miniature flag waving it back and forth.  A few others did the same.

“Some of our fellow Peakites gave their lives so we might enjoy the freedom and safety we have today. To honor them we started collecting funds to build a memorial.  Names are coming in.  Someone contacted the state about this.”

Heads began shaking.  Others yelled out. “No! Not the state here again!”

Gill tapped the microphone.  The crowd quieted.  “I hear what you’re saying.  Our representative, a former Peakite, contacted us too.  They’re forming a delegation to oversee the funds we’re getting from the state.  A few other supernatural towns and cities are getting money too. Disaster avoided!”

Smiles and nods appeared again.

“So in closing before others who served whether in the military or supporting areas speak, I want to say I’m a proud Peakite!  Can you say it with me?”

Gill stepped away from the microphone, raised his arm, and yelled. “I’m a proud Peakite!”

Many in the crowd stood, yelling and chanting with him.  Some smile and clapped.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May your Memorial Day be filled with love, fun, safety, and memories.  Take a moment to thank those that keep us safe and devote their lives to this!

Solara

Gutter Ball

(shedding a little light on a dreary week ... )

“Ain’t you done up there yet?”

For answer, Gil trowled a mass of damp leaves out of the house’s gutter and dumped them on where he hoped Louie’s head was. A ripe oath signified a near-miss. “Hold it steady. I’m coming down.”

Half the house finished; the other half to go. Louie and Gil repositioned the ladder, and Gil trudged up the steps again. The trees around his house were already bare. Where the hell were all these leaves coming from?

“Y’know,” Louie said, “this’d go a lot faster if you’d get on the roof.”

“Yes, it would,” Gil said through gritted teeth. “If I could get on the roof. But the windows are too small for me to crawl through, and all we’ve got is an eight-foot folding ladder for a twelve-foot house. Neither it nor I am tall enough to safely get me onto the roof. Note the word ‘safely.’ Chloe said if I break my neck, she’ll come out and break my ass.” His higher vantage, while not enough to get him past gutter level, did give him a fine view of the street, and the pre-adult audience gathered there. “What are all those kids doing here?”

“Watching you risk your neck. Must be a slow day in town.”

Gil shaded his eyes. “Are they selling popcorn?”

“And peanuts. Y’want some?”

“Eat me with hot sauce. Hey, you kids! Get out’a here!” His audience jeered and treated him to various imaginative hand gestures.

“Izzat fat kid—yeah, he’s takin’ bets. Hey, you! Yeah, you in the yellah shirt. What species are you?”

“Rat!” the plump kid yelled back with a pumpkin grin.

“That’s what I figured. What odds you got on a broken leg?”

“Louie!”

“Hey, the kid’s an enterprenooer. He should be encouraged.”

“I ought’a encourage this trowel right up your ass. Why don’t you get on the roof? You’re a rat. Shimmy up the drainpipe.”

“With this gut? Are you nuts? My shimmying days are behind me. You’re a squirrel. You shimmy.”

“I’m only a squirrel during a full moon.” Gil jabbed the trowel at the cool November sun. “Does that look like a full moon to you?”

“No.” Louie dropped his drawers and wagged his ample butt at the man above him. The kids along the sidewalk applauded. “Does this?”

Gil shot him the finger, and earned a cheer from his audience. “Ha ha friggin’ ha.”

A puff of breeze came up, and swirled dead leaves through the air and onto the roof. They tumbled into the gutter like they were drawn by magnets. Gil swore heartily.

Wait a minute. Those big brown things weren’t clumps of leaves. Not with those whiskers and tails.

The twin rodents glided expertly down from the branches of a nearby tree, borne aloft on stretched membranes of skin between their fore- and hind paws. They landed lightly on the roof and shifted into a pair of 13-year-olds, a boy and a girl. Naked, naturally. Gil hastily averted his eyes from the girl’s budding tits. Down below, Louie did the same.

Out on the sidewalk, the crowd went wild, at least until the girl shouted, “Knock it off, ya idjits.” She pointed at her incisors. “We’re rodents. We gnaw. And we go right for the giblets.” She turned to her brother. “Feel like filling your cheek pouches, Ricky?”

The audience dispersed post-haste. This pair must be known in the neighborhood.

Gil suddenly realized he knew them too. “Ricky?” he said, with his hand over his eyes. “June? Bertram’s kids?”

“Yeah,” June said. “Aunt Chloe called, said you needed help. Dad sent us over.”

“Aunt Chloe said you’d pay us twenty-five dollars to clean out the gutters,” Ricky added. “Apiece.”

“Are you kidding me?” Gil dropped his hand, spotted June’s grinning face, and slapped his palm over his eyes again before his gaze could accidentally drop lower. “Tell me you brought clothes with you.”

“Under the tree, on the other side of the house.”

“I’m on it.” Louie took off at a waddle.

Gil studiously stared out over the nearly-bare trees and listened to June and Ricky get to work. When Louie returned he passed the twins’ clothes up to Gil, who left them on the roof along with the trowel. He eased his way down the ladder.

“It’s okay,” Louie said. “The girl’s got a dress on now. You can’t see nothing unless you look—” Louie caught Gil’s glare and turned, setting his back to the house. “You can’t see nothing. You know those two?”

“They’re relatives of Chloe’s. Flying squirrels. Wish I’d thought of them sooner.” He brushed bits of leaf off his sweater.

“There you are.” Chloe came around the house to kiss her husband on the cheek, and pat Louie on the arm. “I see the kids made it. Hope you’re in the mood for walnut cookies. And for baby-changing.”

 “And that’s my cue.” Louie said. “I’m out’a here.”

Keep 'Em Flying

“Gil, slow down.” Chloe alternated between laughter and panting for breath while Gil tugged her by the hand to the Talbot’s Peak town square. “What’s so important that you’d drag us away from our children?”

“You need a break,” Gil said. “This is a special occasion. It only happens once a year, and then only if weather’s permitting. You missed last year’s. This …” He pointed out the sun and the blue sky nearly empty of clouds. “Is perfect.”

“Does this have something to do with St. Patrick’s Day?”

“Of course,” Gil said. “This is Talbot’s Peak.”

The sky might be empty, but the square was already packed with Peakers decked out in all possible shades of green. More than a few held beverages also tinted green, and more than a few of those beverages contained alcohol. Talbot’s Peak never passed on a chance to celebrate a holiday.

Chloe glanced around the crowded square. She didn’t see any floats or marching bands. “Is there going to be a parade?”

“Sort of,” Gil said. He pointed out a stand selling green spun sugar on a cone. “Cotton candy?”

They strolled hand in hand along the edges of the square, where the Mayor could keep an eye on his constituents and both could avoid accidental trampling by the town’s larger, rowdier citizens. Chloe tore into her cotton candy with gusto. “Where was this when I was pregnant?” she murmured.

“You should have said something. I’ll bet the candy store would have whipped some up. Uh-oh.” Gil carefully drew her toward the center of the square. “Here we go.”

At almost the same instant a pigeon-shifter boy perched on the square’s central fountain pointed at the sky and shouted, “There they are!”

Chloe looked up, but saw nothing. Too many heads in the way. Gil maneuvered her to one of the sculptures dotting the square and hoisted her up for a better look. “The parade’s up there?” she said skeptically. “How—oh.”

And there they were. V after V of migrating goose-shifters, passing over Talbot’s Peak on their way to their northern colonies. They flew low enough for Chloe to see they had dyed themselves green.

Then the show began. The flocks broke ranks and recombined into a pipe, a four-leaf clover, and the outline of a leprechaun. There weren’t enough of them, so the leprechaun came out a bit sketchy. Local bird shifters, the pigeon boy among them, hurried skyward to fill in the gaps. After the portraits followed a performance of high-speed aerial skills, with dips and dives and barrel-rolls and groups in precision maneuvers.

“They brought in hawks again,” Gil remarked. “No goose can dive like that. The flocks compete with each other, see. Somebody always cheats with a hawk. One year a bald eagle showed up. Started a riot. They almost had to cancel the show.”

“Almost?”

“We have a dragon,” Gil said. “He’s out of town this year. Good thing they don’t know that.”

The flocks scattered to re-form one final time. The green geese spelled out Happy Saint Patrick’s Day. The pigeon boy provided the apostrophe.

With that, the geese descended. They came to earth and shifted into human form, to thunderous applause. Their skin and hair still sported green, but their smiles were white and broad. Citizens rushed forward to offer free refreshments.

“What happens now?” Chloe asked.

“We party. The geese get free overnight lodging at the Pleasure Club. A lot of them will pair up here and start new families when they get home. Ever since Talbot’s Peak went shifter, we’ve become a regular stop on their route.” They passed another stand. Gil brightened. “Hey! Mint whoopee pies!”

“You’ll spoil your appetite,” Chloe scolded.

“That’s the whole point of a holiday. Green milkshake, m’dear?”

Jitters

He figured he could get away with it. Confident Louie wouldn’t be back for at least an hour, Gil had the bowls out and was stirring the batter when Louie slammed into the kitchen of Rattigan’s Pub. He stopped dead in the doorway. “What the hell you doing in my kitchen?”

“Uh.” Gil froze in mid-stir. “Cooking?”

“Not in my kitchen, you ain’t. I thought we had an agreement. I don’t come onto the floor and wave cleavers at the customers unless they’re acting up, and you don’t come into the kitchen.” Louie stepped inside. He reached toward the wall. Gil tensed, but the rat only grabbed an apron. “What’re you doing in here anyway? Chloe don’t let you cook at home?”

“She had this craving,” Gil said. “For muffins. The bakery didn’t have what she wanted. I figured your kitchen would. I was going to pay for whatever I took. There’s the money right there on the counter.”

“Cravings, huh?” Louie chuckled. He waved Gil away from the table. “Out’a the way, amateur. I got this. What’s she got a hankerin’ for?”

“Oatmeal muffins, with walnuts, bananas, and spinach.”

“Did youse just say bananas and spinach?”

Gil nodded. “That’s why the bakery didn’t have any. They don’t get much call for those.”

Louie shook his head. “There’s fine dining, and then there’s shifter dining. I can do spinach. Won’t be the first time.” He took the bowl from Gil, sniffed the contents, bared his teeth at it, and dumped the whole mess in the trash. He picked up a clean bowl to start from scratch. “Trying to cook. What the hell was you thinking?”

“I was thinking my wife wanted muffins,” Gil said, miffed. “They would have been good, too.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You ain’t even got the oven on.” Louie took care of that task. “I dunno why you even still work here. You’s the mayor of the city.” He pronounced it da mayuh. “Ain’tcha worried about your rep?”

“Part of it’s for the rep.” Gil took a seat on a stool by the door, well out of Louie’s way. The chef didn’t like people hovering over his shoulder while he created. “Show my constituents I’m still a regular guy. One of the herd. Or flock, or whatever. The bunnies are the ones who engineered my election. What do bunnies run in?”

“Circles, mostly.” Louie emptied oatmeal, butter, honey and water into the bowl and blended it with a practiced hand. Gil looked on enviously. “Mayor Gil, the common man. Smart move. You’s turning into a regular politician. Next thing y’know you’ll be wearing shades and smoking them smelly cigars.”

“I quit smoking ages ago. Tobacco makes my tongue taste like a dumpster. Now I eat peanuts. Lemme crack the walnuts. I’m pretty sure I can handle that.”

“Okay. They’re in the cupboard over there. How come you don’t drive around in a Caddy like Mayor Link used to?”

“I like Hondas. Though we’ll probably have to upgrade to an SUV, if Chloe’s right about a litter.” The nutcracker slipped in his fingers. “Crap.”

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Gil attacked a walnut. Bits of shell went flying. Louie didn’t say anything.

“Every now and then it hits me,” Gil suddenly blurted. “I’m going to be a father. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Join the club. One day you’s a normal guy, struttin’ around without a care in the world, then alla sudden it’s diapers and crying and feedings in the dead of night. But that don’t last too long. Once they start talking they’re a lot more fun. Then they hit the teens, but you got a ways to go before that happens. Plenty o’ time to go bald.”

“Thanks loads. You have kids?”

“I raised a couple’a rugrats, back inna day. Dunno if I’d have time for it now, what with this place and all. I ask again: you sure you wanna keep working here?”

Gil sighed. “Are you kidding? This is my refuge. I don’t have to be the Mayor here. But I’m going to be ‘Dad’ wherever I go. That’s scarier than being the mayor.”

“’Fraid so. Hey, cheer up. You’re gonna do okay. I mean, look atcha, and you born human and all. You done good at being mayor, and being a bar guy, and being a straight shooter, and being a buddy. As far as being a squirrel, though … eh. Chloe say how much spinach she wants in these?”

“I didn’t ask. Enough so she’ll know I didn’t forget.”

“Okay, but if your kids come out looking like Popeye, don’t come crying to me.” He folded Gil’s walnuts, a banana, and chopped leaf spinach into the batter. “Huh. Don’t look half bad. Lessee how they come out. I might make a batch for samples, see if the customers like ‘em.”

“Like what?” Bettina wandered into the kitchen, yawning. Like Louie, she stopped when she noticed Gil. “You’re in his kitchen? And you’re still alive?”

Gil turned on Louie. “You let her in the kitchen and not me?”

“She don’t try to cook. Wolfgang Puck over there thought he could make muffins,” he explained to Bettina. “His missus gotta craving.”

“Ah. We’re at that point, are we? So of course you came here.” She put her arm around Gil’s shoulders and steered him back into the dining room. “Come with me. We’ll drink ginger ale and chat about children until the muffins are done, or that look goes away from your face. Whichever comes first.”

“What look?” Gil demanded. Louie and Bettina just smiled.

GILL'S TWO WEEK VACATION IN REVIEW

Monday:
She said her name was Chloe.  Her two-tone blondish red hair curled on its own all over her head.  Her bright blue eyes sparkled when she smiled.  Even her bust seemed to bounce with their own counter rhythm as she jogged along the beach.  Her tight uniform t-shirt drew his gaze regardless of where he looked.  Blasted logo seemed to plaster itself tighter against her breasts the more Gill tried to read what the print said.  That was his story and he stuck to it.  She chirped as she walked by him at lunch and dinner.

Tuesday:
An economy size box of condoms sat on the desk in his room.  He smiled and patted the box.  The cellophane wrapper still enclosed it.  Was he wishful thinking?  Hope without potential of fulfillment?  Then there was the room cleaning incident.  She saw the box as he entered the room finding her cleaning up the bathroom where he had jacked-off in the shower fantasizing what he would do if she said yes.  How red could a grey squirrel blush?  Even her rosy cheeks tinged as she smiled and left. Need swarmed him with a hunger that found him with his hand on the door ready to follow her and plead his case.  Sanity returned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Wednesday:
His balls ached.  Hung lower than he ever thought they could.  Blue balls weren’t pretty  Louie quipped when Gill called to check on his campaign press releases.  Chloe had left a hand written not under his door.  Unfortunately part of her phone number remained obliterated thanks to the nightly cleaning crew.  Chole’s melodious chirps lulled him to sleep as his orgasmic bliss pulled him into slumber.  How much more jerking off could he stand?  What was this attraction?  This need that seemed to draw them together and yet continued to tease them without satisfaction? Well satisfaction that found him buried up to his nuts in Chloe as she spasmed around and over him.  Great, and he was supposed to be planning his campaign!

Thursday:
He asked for seating in her section.  She wasn’t working?  Chloe was where?  He finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, invite her to meet him off premise, and see what their mutual attraction might ignite.  And she wasn’t working?  Somehow breakfast tasted flatter, less worth the effort, and . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Weekend Gang!

Looks like the love bug bit Gill.  And her name is Chloe. . .red fur and chirps that drew his mind somewhere...I wonder if he gets to unwrap much less use that box of condoms.  We'll have to wait and see what his next report says.

I loved vacation!  Had a wonderful time.  The Spice Homestead is back and working hard to get more wonderful things happening.  I've got new story ideas brewing and Pris my muse enjoyed our having time to think together.  

As Spring gives way to Summer, be safe.  These storms are kickers.  Remember to take time to take care of you and yours.  Share a good book or two with your loves and spice.  I know I will!

Until Next Week,

Solara

TO RUN OR NOT TO RUN---IS THAT THE REAL QUESTION?

Gill looked at the multipaged signed petition laying on top his desk blotter.  He estimated about twenty signatures per page.  He counted roughly ten pages so far.  The petition, thanks to  Rachel who showed up unannounced yesterday morning at her desk, concerned his running for re-election.  If this was an indicator next to the emails, phone calls, and conversations tossed at him recently, quite a few Peakites wanted him to stay in office.

Next to the petition sat the papers he needed to sign to declare his candidacy.  Not that there were any others who appeared to want the job.  Then again, the job wasn't hard.  With the city council in place, more work got done than in most of the prior mayors' terms in office.  It didn't hurt that the older citizens liked having a voice in how things got done.  And the younger folks were taking pride in being active in civic and political functions.

Gill picked up the pen close to the blotter.  Could he take on another term?  He didn't know.  Questions and answers evaded him until now.  With Rachel back, maybe the buried bodies might be less likely to come falling out of anywhere.  There was this dude Tyburn who pushed the mail cart around town delivering mail and newspapers.  He'd shown up around the time Rachel had.  She glared at him and told him to keep his mind on his job.

Gill tossed the pen in his middle desk drawer.  He locked the petition and other papers in there.  Pocketing the key, he strode out of his office whistling.  Rattigan's happy hour was starting.  He had a bar to tend and drinks to dispense.  Running for office could wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Weekend Gang!

Short flash this week.  I'm working on edits and revisions for my newest book, Tina's Treasures.  When I've got a solid release date I'll post the cover and share an excerpt.

Keep well and warm with this crazy change in weather.  The Spice Homestead is battling our share of colds and flu.  We're getting well one day at time.  Remember to read a good book or two and share them with your loves and spice.

Until next week,

Solara

ONE IS THE LONELIEST NUMBER. . .OR IS IT?

Gill looked up from the newspaper article he was reading.  The house creaked as another burst of wind wrapped itself around the mayoral mansion.  Ten more inches of snow fell over night.  Most of the Peak's citizens were off cozy and smooching with their sweeties.  Louie and Bettina were off on a platonic date with Arabella, Bettina's year and half old precious daughter.  The imp loved to nip and draw blood.  Teaching her control was going to be difficult. 

He glanced down at the headline which read 14 different ways to attract love to you.  Gill snorted.  Love  could be a wicked emotion that could richly reward or burn depending on how it was cultivated.  Being alone didn't matter as much when he took stock of what richness he had otherwise.  Louie awarded him a quarter percent interest in Rattiagan's for bringing in business and sticking with the job.  Gill didn't mind.  This stint as mayor could end with the next election through he'd begun doubting it would.  Friends abounded and ones that didn't mind he wasn't a true blooded shifter.  Acceptance felt good.  No there were worse things than being alone on Valentine's Day.  

Gill reached out and stroked Blackie.  Her purrs rumbled beneath his hand. Her loyalty and unconditional acceptance mirrored most of the folks he knew and counted as friends.  Even a few were close to extended family.  

Laughter broke out as he read the short entry after the first article concerning bad dates.  Christ, it reminded him of his in high school.  He leaned back against his chair as memories surface.

Fifteen and gangly, another growth spurt shot him up four inches in three months.  Not that it helped much.  His long limbs and thin body stood out in stark relief next to the jocks and muscular athletes milling around the cafeteria eying the girls across the way like meat on the hoof.    One female caught Gill's eye every time she moved.  Teresa Dowingen's long black hair flowed past her shoulders to her waist.  Her short blue skirt and two tone blouse drew his gaze right to her....her chest.  She had breasts where the others weren't so prominent.  Why couldn't he look elsewhere?  Her face wasn't bad. Nor was her figure.  Her appeal drew many compliments from several of her classmates.  

He'd love to ask Teresa to dance.  Except how do you explain where his head and face would end up? Smack between her. . .Gwack!  He had to get her boobs off his mind.   No slow dancing was out of the question.  Maybe a fast song with a good beat?  Gill looked out at the dance floor.  Teresa giggled and bounced with two of her friends to the latest hit from a national top ten band.  If she bounced like that close to him, he'd be back to the boobs again.  Great!

There was Amiee with her new braces and short choppy hair cut.  Her mother's home hair cut hadn't turned out as planned.  Gill felt sorry for the family trying to save money and be frugal since jobs were less plentiful due to economic issues.  At least his mind and body wouldn't be reacting to boobs.
Make that bust or breasts.  He could hear his mother chastising him for using guy slang.  

So his night progressed.  Dance after dance except with Teresa.  Until the last dance was called.  Ladies choice.  Teresa walked up to him and held out her hand.  "Dance with me," she ordered.

Gill swallowed hard.  He didn't like taking orders from anyone.  Her tone sounded like his mother.  Talk about ego deflating.  Teresa repeated herself.  Gill stayed silent.  Weighing his options.

Dance with the hottie he lusted after and wanted or keep his pride and refuse to be ordered around.  He went over the options again. As he looked up, he frowned Teresa stood glaring at him her arms folded tightly across her bust.  

"You don't listen very well do you," she tossed at him and walked away.  Gill took two steps forward and stopped.  Snorts and gaffs broke out behind him.  He turned.  The whole football team stood behind him laughing.  

A loud creak and rattle of a window pane interrupted Gill's waltz down memory lane.  He shook is head.  Yes, being alone on Valentine's Day wasn't bad when you knew your riches and love didn't have to come from without.  His came from within.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Weekend Gang!

Winter dumped snow on the Spice Homestead!  We shoveled for 2 hours to clear things.  Now a melt is predicted.  Ah well, spring is working her way across the land.  Taking hold will help out with getting this white mess out of my yard!

Today's prize is a PDF of Hot for Torrey, the first book in my Cascade Bay series.  Tina's Treasure's is book two and due out in a couple of months.  Leave your comment concerning your worst or best Heart's Day Date.

Until next week,
Solara

Noshing With Phil and Charlie

 

Gill looked at the kabobs lining the top of the grill closest to him.  His mouth watered.  Fresh chunks of rhubarb, yams, potatoes, various squashes, combined with peppers of vibrant hues and chunks of tomatoes and other local plants cover the skewers.  Aromatic spices filled the air as Phil’s wife Lillian basted each skewer with homemade butter.  Center of the table sat a huge bowl containing a variety of greens and seeds as well as cooked and cold beans mixed with chunks of cured cheeses.  

The grill the group brought with them held different kinds of fish caught from the local stream while they unpacked.  Phil’s last litter of pups nosily played in the corner hot tub at the edge of the patio near the wooded back section of the small yard.  None of the kids appeared concerned with their nudity.  Charlie’s wife kept an eye on the quartet splashing and frolicking.  Nearby her two newborns lay in their stroller, snoozing and cooing in between bouts of laughter and yells from their second cousins.

Ranger manned the grill with the fish.  He wore a bright colored towel draped like a sarong around his middle.  He laughed as one of Phil’s twin girls threatened to splash him again.  Ranger’s earlier play with the pups in the hot tub started the flow of water slowly creeping its way over the patio.  A cool breeze blew around the cabin and over them from time to time.  The outdoor fire pit held a small fire that sputtered as the wind moved over it.  The flames held on and grew as Charlie tossed more wood on it.

Charlie didn’t seem preoccupied about his debut Sunday. Nor did he have issues with getting the weather right.  He grinned each time someone mentioned the commotion starting back down the mountain bright and early Sunday morning.  He talked about making his trek incognito through the underground tunnels Phil kept ready for the silliness humans required at some date that none really understood the reason behind.  Snow came and melted.  Rain fell and soaked the ground.  Seasons changed.  Some were welcomed and others. . . well climate was what you expected and weather was what you got.  Bitching about it wouldn’t change it or make a dang bit of difference if anyone asked him. 

Phil’s laughter broke through Gill’s musings.  Hadley’s bark rang out, echoing off the valley walls.  Gill squinted.  His smile grew.  The alpha sat middle of the hot tub allowing two male pups to douse him with water.  Hadley stepped out of the tub, grabbed a bar of homemade soap and lathered up.  More water splashed up and down him.  Childish giggles followed as he snapped his towel at the twins before he raced for the house.  Gill sighed as eight sets of eyes turned to him.  Shit, he was next.  Face an outdoor bath or wash up in the sink since the communal shower was off limits until the tank heated up enough water to bath them all.   Did he take the plunge and brave the cold or be teased about not being squirrel enough  for choosing the sink and the warmth of the interior of the house? 

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Happy weekend Gang!

Tina's Treasure is offically under contract.   Siren-Bookstrand will publish book two in my Cascade Bay series.  When I have a solid release date, I'll let you know.  

Another crazy week weather wise.  They have snow and ice in Pensacola, FL!!  Almost an inch thick in places.  WOW!

Keep warm, dry, safe, and remember to share a good book or two with your spice and loves.  I know I will!

Until next week,

Solara

"And our next substitute player is. . ."

Gill stopped midway up the incline.  He leaned on his walking stick and glanced back down the almost obscure trail.  Louie and Ranger weren't far behind him.  Each carried their personal camping gear well.  Backpacks stuffed to the gills with dried food and water pouches sat on top of neatly package space survival blankets, tarps, and subzero sleeping bags.  Further down the trail, Hadley brought up the rear carrying their tent and portable stove.  Gill adjusted the straps of his own pack.  His held their changes of clothes and toiletries.  Another hour and they would reach Phil's forest home.

Each of the hikers agreed when they set out on the expedition that snow and extreme cold might make the trip edgy and nippy.  Gill smiled remembering Vernon's advice about packing wool into their shoes to keep their feet warm and dry.  Miss Elly came through with the lint from her dryer.  After the laughter died down she showed them how to line their hiking shoes and hats.  Ever resourceful, she handed each of them two pairs of knitted mittens and gloves.  The old gal could blush and stammer as each the males kissed her cheek and hugged her.  Two containers of her vegetable stew waited down Gill's pack.  Each of the hikers had a special treat from Miss Elly awaiting them when they reached Phil's domicile.  Two to three more hours at their current pace and they would reach the rumored clearing.

"Gill," Louie called out as he got closer.  "Any sign of where we're supposed to turn?"

Ranger moved up past Louie and Gill.  He leaned down scratching at the dirt close to him.  He sniffed and smiled.  "I found the marker.  I know that scat and piss order for sure."

Hadley's barking laughter echoed off the close-by trees and rocks.  "You'd make a great hunting dog."

Ranger flipped Hadley his middle finger.  "I shared my teeth with Phil on our fishing expedition.  The night you snuck up and scared the piss and shit out of us marked my sleeping bag and tent horribly."

Louie and Gill snorted.  Turning away they both glanced at each other.  Rolled their eyes and grinned.

Louie mouthed, 'Both of them stunk for the rest of the trip.  Thank our deities we found a car wash to run them through."

Gill swallowed hard hoping he could keep his mirth restrained.  Images of Ranger and Phil covered from head to tail in soap suds as they cussed and shook their fists at the rest of the group flashed through his mind.

Gill moved up ahead of Ranger, calling out as he did.  "Two more hours and Phil will be in sight."

More laughter rang out.  With Ground Hog's Day quickly approaching, Gill could understand why Phil chose to hide out.  After last year's debacle who could blame him.

Crickets began chirping.  More birds disappeared as the group trekked higher up the hill and then pushing their through a thicket, they paused.  Fifty yards in front of them sat a two story log cabin.  It nestled up against the large boulder overhang.  A door swung open and two men stepped out.  

The one closest to them smiled and nodded.  The other looked similar to the first.  He scowled and squinted practically to the point of snarling.   Gill blinked, shook his head, and stared again.

"Glad you made it fellas," the smiling man said stepping off the porch.  "Come on inside.  Lillian's got dinner cooking.  She made room for you to cook your meat downwind on the back porch."

"Phil?" Louie asked, point to each of the identical looking men.

"Yes, it's me."  Phil held out his hand, ready to shake anyone's who wanted to.  "That's my cousin Charlie.  He's practicing standing in for me."

"Standing in for you?" Ranger asked, moving up on to the porch.  He sniffed Charlie before moving past him into the house.  

Phil laughed.  "Yes, he's scowling and frowning like I would when they pulled me out of my bed shining bright lights at me."

Hadley nodded as he followed the rest of the group into Phil's place.  Maybe, just maybe a substitute might make the right call this year.   They'd have to wait and see.

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Happy Weekend Gang!

I've got a new story underway based on my flash Cassandra and the Sheriff.  Its going to be fun telling Cassandra and Marc's story.  As I skecthced out their story, another based in the same area came to mind.  A new series is in the making.  When I've got more to share I will let you know.

Tina's Treasures is with my publisher awaiting to hear from them.  Mean while I hope you all are keeping warm, healthy, and enjoying a good book or two with your loves and spice.  I know I am!

Until next week,

Solara