Tag Archives: romance

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.

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.

Golddigger’s Sonnet

9 Oct

I am consumed by fiscal passion

when I gaze upon your wrinkles.

I lust for your high-waisted fashions,

and your enlarged prostate tinkles.


The familiar bulge in your slacks:

a wallet of Visa and Amex Gold.

That compensates for what your body lacks,

and my friends saying you are old.


The age difference means nothing to me,

as I have caught the curse of King Midas.

You have as many years as my father,

and you see the same doctor for arthritis.


I am a golddigger, I am with no shame.

I’m in it for the will, now it’s just a waiting game.

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