Tag Archives: novel

Love in the Mine Shafts

10 Nov

Note: Over three days, I will be publishing excerpts from my upcoming romance novels. Each of these stories is set in a different exotic locale and features themes of romance, love, passion, lust, and amorousness. You can find them in a supermarket or airport book store near you.


Workin’ down at the mine, a man don’t got a whole lotta time for the finer sex. Most always, I wake with the rooster and go to bed with him too, if only because I like a chicken to keep me company while I sleep. By the time I clock outta the shaft, there ain’t enough daylight for me to go out hunting for broads, so I keep a pretty lonely life.

All that changed the day the gender barrier was broken in the coal mining industry. Most of the company town had their long johns in a twist over there being a lady in the mines, but I was too busy being tired and busy to give much of a hoot. So long as she didn’t dig my coal or turn the company on to the fact that my picket fence is two feet beyond my property lines, she was alright by me.

The first time I laid eyes upon the broad was in the company store. We were both buying rice and beans using our commissary slips. Like I said, I didn’t think much about her being in town. Only queer thing was, this lady coulda been in pictures if she had her druthers. Made no sense havin’ a girl all gussied up like that breaking her back down in the mine. But, my job ain’t to make decisions. My job’s to mine coal.

That fateful mornin’ I woke up just as I always do. My rooster crowed and my crow roostered and I popped outta bed. I thought about taking a shower, but decided it’d be a better use of the hot water to make me some coffee. I put on my uniform and took my lunch and helmet and headed down to the mine. Turned out, the new girl would be in my shift. Some of the boys in my shift were fixin’ to make a pass on her, but let me tell you, I fell out of the ugly tree and hit every stick on the way down. Figured I didn’t have half a lick at taking her to some honky-tonk or nothin’, so I just hunkered down and got down to my work.

By the time we was down in the shaft, it was hotter than a Rolex in a pawn shop. Everybody in the crew got down to cracking ore, but it appeared the new gal was having some trouble. Now, I ain’t so high cotton I can’t help out a coworker, so I shuffled on over to give her a hand.

“What’s a honey as purdy as you doing down in a coal shaft?” I asked her.

“Hell, same thing you’re doing down here, trying to catch a buck,” she said.

“You mind if I gave you a hand? Looks like you ain’t got a whole lotta experience yet,” I said.

The more I looked at her, the more I liked. Her eyes were dark as coal, her hair was black as coal, her skin was getting covered in coal dust, but her heart was clearly not of coal. Every time she looked up at me, my heart shot up like the mine elevator and I wanted to sing like a canary. From then on, our love burned like a coal-fed fire. I never heard of a solar panel doing nothing like that.

Ye Olde Romance Novel

3 Nov

Note: Over the next three days, I will be publishing excerpts from my upcoming romance novels. Each of these stories is set in a different exotic locale and features themes of romance, love, passion, lust, and amorousness. You can find them in a supermarket or airport book store near you.


Lady Porston’s Ye Olde Shoppe is a fine establishment wherein one might purchase a loaf of hard-tac for kin in the War, sacks of barley with which to prepare Stews and Gruels, or even barter brass buttons or copper nails for imported Tonics and Spirits. One day, when the whole of the town had exited the Chapel after the Morn’s prayers and had yet to congregate on the Common Green for militia drills, I did pay a visit to Lady Porston for the purpose of attaining calf enhancements pads of the Elegant and Current fashion. Beyond the front Stoop, a poor and wretched alleycat carried a lowly sewer rat betwixt her claws, and further beyond stood a Fair and Gentle maiden, an enchanting Vixen, upon whom I had never feasted mine Eyes.

As I charted my predestined course toward her Heavenly body, I did feel a firm and Stirring drumbeat beneath my breast. Boom-Ta-Ta-Boom-Boom-Ta-Ta-Ta. During my navigation, the Firmament opened and let forth a shivering Torrent, yet the Maiden must not have owned a Quality Almanack, for she wore a Cape of satin with no galoshes. Summoning my Deepest courages, I raced toward the Intoxicating mistress and placed my coat upon her frame, revealing a pleasant wrinkle upon her Countenance, for surely Eros and Aphrodite had drawn me in their Game of lots.

Her mane hung in Splendid tendrils, as if they were over-Ripened vines of mungbean and Common Sprouts. Her eyes, the Dramatic stage upon which her minds’ players revealed comedies and tragedies of the Highest order, shone with the bright intensity of a Witch burning on the pyre. Hark! her ankles loomed beneath the midnight of her stockings, presenting themselves like the first lumps of Carrot of the Harvest, a sight so captivating one wishes he could Render it in charcoal or marble. Her anatomy Flowed like the town stream where Typhus and other Great Afflicktions grew and where unkempt Hooligans and Tramps might hunt for toads.

I sang: Huzzah! divine Creature! Let me cry your praises upon the highest Steeples and through the lowest Caverns and dungeons! The whole of the Colonies shall know of your Beauty. Blessed Fruit, reveal your charms and allow me to escort you to a Ball, or even a festive Tavern, so that I might make you mine and put you to work on my Plantation and breed learned Sons. What say you?

She said, hushed and low: But what if Bishop Franklin or Lord McClintock should catch us in this sordid affair? I am but a lowly indentured servant! Who can know what fearsome wrath they shall wreak on us? What Misery hath our chance meeting wrought?

And I declared: My Queen, my Gentle Friend, my Lovely Prize, we shall embark for the wilderness! We shall eat plump berries and feast on the Flesh of small rodents there, in the kingdom of beasts and Monsters. We will make our homestead and Plant our seed and live like Forsaken fools on the Fringes of the world. Have I your hand in this Precarious Proposition?

And she said: Aye!


Hot Like Fire Sauce®

12 Jan

Some authors have become fabulously wealthy off their work. Much to my chagrin, I have not. But rather than keep chipping away at this humor thing until it pans out, I’ve decided to make my fortune off a single work: a supermarket-shelf romance. As brick-and-mortar book stores die in America, supermarkets are still going strong, meaning my book will reach the maximum audience possible. So, without further ado, I present a portion of my monetary chef d’oeuvre, Taboo: A Taco Bell Love Story. 

Chapter 8: Passion Hot as Fire Sauce™

The pallid glow of fluorescent lighting glinted off her auburn hair, greasy and lifeless like an unopened case of burrito lettuce. I stared deep into her eyes as I bit into a Chalupa Supreme®, and a moist wad of sour cream dripped clumsily down my chin. Suave and smooth, I wiped it on the sleeve of my hoodie. She signaled her affirmation with a girlish grin.

Slowly, I began to put my mouth around the object of my affection; the Fiery Doritos® Locos Taco Supreme was everything I’d hoped it would be. Pausing momentarily, I wondered which was more delightfully curvaceous – her body or this taco shell?  Both made me salivate excessively. Just as I consumed that mystery meat abomination, my lust consumed me. I wanted to unleash my love for her like guacamole from a caulking gun.

The oily tension at our table for two began to overcome us both. Her hands twitched either out of nervousness or a small saturated-fat overdose seizure. My toes curled inside my Crocs, digging deep like the roots of our affection. The raw ache of anticipation welled inside us both. The temperature of the evening climbed from Mild® to Hot® to Fire®, crescendoing  momentously in Limited Edition Fire Roasted®.

Our hands clicked together magnetically, and our heads aligned themselves on that cosmic auto-pilot that only soulmates share. Pausing just inches apart, she looked piningly at my buttery lips and whispered, “I must be a Cantina Steak Burrito® by Lorena Garcia, because I was made just for you.” We held the same tantalizing position as I replied, “You make my heart melt like Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes®.”

Suddenly, our lips locked together, cradling a Shredded Chicken Smothered Burrito® in between our mouths. As we lost ourselves in each other, we were blanketed by a layer of rice and pinto beans. Eventually, we tumbled off our chairs and onto the floor, wallowing in the food detritus like a pair of amorous hogs. We paused for breath, and she flirtatiously fed me a handful of the fallen legumes. From behind the counter an employee, jealous of our connection, yelled, “Ya’ll belong in an institution! Yo, this is wrong, man.”

If it was wrong, I don’t want to be right.

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