11/18/2011

The Park at Sunrise: Excerpt

Just a few more weeks until the release of the Story Orgy Anthology from Breathless Press! 

Can't wait till December 2? 

Ready to read a bit more about it? 

Here's a short excerpt from my story, The Park at Sunrise


"I see you're dressed for the weather as always, Morgan." Jason's voice was husky, hesitant.
A pair of black knit gloves landing in my lap tipped me over that edge from making a snide remark to throwing an uncalled for hissy fit.
My jaw clenched tightly. Screw breathing deeply. I yanked the cap from my head, pulling long strands of black hair from the band at my neck, and winced at the tiny pain. I flung the cap to the ground in front of us and looked up the black denim clad legs to the black pea coat and beyond. My mouth opened to swear, but no sound came out. The hissy fit drained away to something else entirely. My pulse still raced, but for an entirely different reason.
How fair was that? How fucking fair was it that after ten years apart, my hair showed silvery streaks and my face showed my age, but Jason was still the slender boyish youth of years gone by? Yeah, he'd shaved the dirty blond dreadlocks. Those wire rim glasses were new, but he appeared as youthful and vibrant, untouched by life, alive as he had when we'd all parted years ago to make those sunrise dreams reality. His black jeans had the tell tale smudges of paint, and I'd be willing to bet that underneath those leather driving gloves lurked more paint.
This wasn't the reunion we planned then. It was nine years too late, for one thing. We were one man short for another.
The bench creaked as he perched next to me on the top slat, and instinctively I grabbed his knee to anchor both of us so we wouldn't topple backward. His hand covered mine before I could jerk it away and he refused to relinquish it when I tugged. I gave in with ill grace. Jason’s touch stirred physical responses I’d rather not experience.


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Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955