Tag Archives: story

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!


A Typical Day in High School

27 Apr

(A Monday morning in high school. Two students are speaking to each other at a lunch table.)

STUDENT 1: Dude, my weekend was so crazy. I had a few kids over Saturday night, and things got pretty wild. (laughs)
STUDENT 2: Yeah, I had a pretty sick weekend, as well. I told, like, 20 kids to come over and it ended being about 150.
S1: My house was pretty trashed afterward. I spent all Sunday cleaning up. I’m pretty sure someone took my goldfish. They left the bowl and stuff, but the fish was just gone afterward.
S2: Same here. Someone did a belly flop out of a second floor window and shattered all of my patio furniture on the way down. I’m going to be grounded for months.
S1: Someone at my house brought a two-hundred foot hose to my house. During the party, I guess they ran it upstairs, hooked it up to the faucet outside and just started pumping water into my parents’ bedroom. Then, some other guy runs up the stairs with a bucket full of barely-alive fish, and he throws them all into the water and locks the door. The next day, after I waited for a lot of the water to leak down through the ceiling under the bedroom, I opened the door and it just reeked of stale water and dead fish. What a weekend.
S2: If you think that’s good, one of the kids that showed up to my house that night? Turns out, he’s a 46-year-old DEA agent who retired to live the life of his suspects. He moonlights as a street mime, and he has this beautiful motorcycle parked out front.
S1: Wait, what does the mime thing have to do with it?
S2: Absolutely nothing at all. So we get out to the motorcycle, and like clowns in a tiny car, we manage to cram thirteen kids on the bike at once. The mime guy just cranks the gas, and the next second we’re going 130 in a residential area. In a proud moment of defiance, some of us reach out and grab those plastic stand-up turtle things and embellish with all sorts of profane and anatomically-correct declarations of protest.
S1: I can top that. As I’m going outside to turn off the hose, one of the guests comes up to me and hands me a drink. I take one sip and I’m out like a light. I woke up hallucinating that I was the ham in a Cuban sandwich, so I’m so distracted and confused that I don’t realize where I am. A few minutes later, I realize I’m riding a statue of a horse in the middle of some bustling city square, and everyone around me is screaming and cheering in Spanish. Another few minutes, and I’m aware that I’m wearing full military garb from the waist up.
S2: Waist down?
S1: Moving on, I dismount the statue and start looking for the American embassy. As I’m looking for the embassy, the people in the streets just part like the seas in front of me, and they’re all just cheering “El capitán” as I walk past. The rest of the details are pretty foggy, but all I know is I woke up the next morning in my parents’ bed, wrapped up in the soaking sheets cozied up to a largemouth bass.
S2: I love the weekends.

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