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To Dean it was just another adventure. His wealthy parents had died in a car crash a few years back. Dean was happy to let his older brother run the family business. He lived quite happily off his share of the dividends and interest from the family fortune. He was twenty-five and didn’t have any plans of settling down soon. Why should he? He was rich. He could do whatever he wanted and if he fell, well, money has a way of making sure you always land on your feet. Dean was a cat man and he knew it, in fact he reveled in it. (more…)

All right, let me give you a little background.  It all started when my girlfriend of three years left me for my best friend.  A week later I lost my job.  That part really wouldn’t have bothered me if Jenny hadn’t left.  But it was really the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.  I went from listening to hard rock to the blues.  My buds told me my life had the making for a country music song, but hell, no matter how desperate I was, depressed, alone, whatever there was no way I was going to listen to that.  Same cords over and over again.  Don’t get me wrong; I don’t hold anything against they folks that do listen to it.  To each his own I guess.  But I found the blues and immediately fell in love with it.  The feel of it completely described the slump I was in.  The music made it easy to forget your our problems and move into someone else’s.  Like living in someone else’s shoes for the six or so minutes of the song. (more…)

 Curt drove the 36″ wide mower up the ramp on onto the trailer attached to the back of his pickup truck.  He cut the engine and wiped the sweat from his face with a clean rag.  He couldn’t remember when it was so damned hot.  He tipped his hat back on his head and took the pruning sheers and weed wacker out of the back.  He still had at least another hour of work before he was done here, and he was out of water.  Fifteen minutes later, he’d had it.  He went to the back door of the main house and rang the bell.  He’d seen servants around the house before and only hoped that someone was home today.
 The door opened; he felt the cool rush of air conditioning blast his face, chest, and legs.  The breeze was soothing and he hoped that he would be invited in while someone got him a glass of water.  It was the young Filipino woman with mocha skin who answered the door that made him hot again.  She was slender, but filled out her fitted uniform in all the right places.  She had deep brown almond-shaped eyes and wore the slighted bit of makeup. Her shoes were sensible and black; her skirt was much shorter than was practical. Her smile was bright and wide and inviting. 
 ”May I help you?” she asked. (more…)

It was spring. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the flowers were blooming and the dogs were crapping in the bushes. I was sitting on a park bench with my Fantastic Four graphic novel. I really liked Wieringo’s artwork. I guess some people thought I was a bit old for comics. I’d been to college for a few years, until I blew out my knee playing offensive line.

I guess you figured out by now that I’m a big guy. At six foot five and probably somewhere around 350, I catch a few second looks. But at twenty-six years old and I was still a virgin. That was about to change, big time.

Living in New York you get used to people screaming in all kinds of languages. At first I didn’t even look up from my book. When I heard the running footsteps I turned in their direction. A skinny little guy was running toward my bench. Right on his heels was a large young oriental woman. The guy was carrying a purse. He didn’t look like the purse carrying kind. I jumped off the bench and hit him with a pancake block. He dropped like wet cement. Then he glared up at me and reached inside his baggy pants. The gun had almost cleared his waistband when the big girl landed full force on top of him. All the air rushed out of his lungs. She was pounding his head into the grass when the cops showed up to take him away. (more…)

Goes without saying that I ain’t using my man’s real name, trashy ass sportswriters would have themselves too much fun dragging his black ass over the coals for some of what I got to say and he don’t need the humiliation of the rest of what I got to say. I’m just gonna call him Hollis, I always wanted me a man named Hollis. Anyhow, he’s basically a good man. It was just that the season was real tough on him this year, the team not playing up to expectations and all and him fighting all them nagging injuries and taking all that flak. If the fool hadn’t taken it all out on me right before leaving for that East Coast swing none of the following shit would have happened. But, he did and it did and even though I got me some regrets about cheating on the man, I certainly did enjoy myself at the time. Got to admit that, straight up. (more…)