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WELCOME!! Come check out the first book in my baseball series, Bottom of the Ninth. It's Dan Alexander, Pitcher -- only $.99, for a limited time! Here's a bit about the book:

Fed up with cheating women, Dan Alexander, star pitcher for the New York Nighthawks, grew restless. Searching for something more than a bar babe, he zeroed in on a girl in the stands. He never expected to see a beautiful chick pushing frankfurters. But the hot dog girl looked as smokin’ as the food she was selling.

Holly Merrill found a place to hide in plain sight, as a vendor at Nighthawks’ stadium. Keeping her secret safe and simply happy to stay alive, she never considered finding love an option. After all, a bad girl doesn’t deserve a decent guy, does she?

Coming off his best season ever, Dan went into the playoffs, hell bent on winning the pennant and playing in the World Series. But could he maintain his focus on the field, where everything was going right, when off the field everything was falling apart?  

SNEAK PEEK...

“Why do they hire pretty girls to sell hot dogs?” Dan asked his teammate, Jake Lawrence, in the next shower stall.

“Guess they sell more dogs,” Jake said, lathering up his hair.

“That must be it. The new one I just met is fine.”

“Yeah? What about what’s-her-name?”

“Valerie?”

“That’s it. What about her?”

“This girl sells hot dogs, Jake. Get real. You don’t think Mr. All Star Pitcher would hook up with a Hot Dog Girl, do you?” Matt Jackson piped up from the other room.

“If she’s hot, and he’s a horndog, sure. Why not?” Jake said, rinsing off.

“She didn’t look like a Hot Dog Girl,” Dan said, wrapping a towel around his hips.

“Probably one of Bud’s charity cases,” Jake said.

“Yeah, a hooker or a drug addict.” Matt stripped off his clothes.

“She didn’t look like either. Kind of classy.” Dan headed for his locker.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "STRONG" - MORE OF "THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY"

Howdy. Welcome. This week, I've posted the second, and alas, last, piece from "The One that got Away." This piece is almost finished and will be published soon, so it's got to go. I apologize for leaving with a bit of a cliff-hanger. You'll simply have to wait until it's published to find out what happens. 
Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and the excellent writers there. Thanks for coming! 

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Still, Mike had planned to move into Amy’s apartment. In three days strong men were coming to stuff his belongings into a storage locker. His place was pretty well packed up. He couldn’t move in with her without at least the promise of marriage, could he? A lot of men did, but not Mike. He didn’t roll that way. Still, marriage meant giving up his dream of Heather. Was he ready to do that? He pushed Heather out of his mind and crossed the street.

When he arrived, he had about a half hour wait. Her hair had to be perfect. Everything about Amy had to be perfect; her clothes, her house, he hesitated to put down a glass, even on a coaster, on the coffee table. So God damn perfect it made him nervous. That was about to come to an end, once he moved in. “Messy Mike” she’d nicknamed him. He hated it, but she was right.

Heather popped into his mind. Her shoulder-length light brown hair hadn’t been perfect. Wind-blown from the ocean breezes, it had whipped around her face before settling on her shoulders in loose, messy curls. She’d worn no makeup, except a little lipstick. Pages of articles and stories had littered her beach house. There had been nothing perfect about Heather, except that she’d been perfect for him.

Sitting back, he rummaged through the magazines until he found his favorite, Esquire. Glancing over the cover, he spied a small headline for an essay inside. It was titled, The One that Got Away. And it was written by a best-selling author named Heather Stone. He searched his brain, but couldn’t recall Heather’s last name, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t Stone.

Heather had been an aspiring writer when he knew her. But this couldn’t be her. Still, he thumbed through to the article, just to make sure. He read the opening sentence, and his mouth went dry.

“Mike, where are you?”

His eyes widened. No, this couldn’t be, she must be talking about someone else. But he read on anyway.

TUESDAY TALES

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TUESDAY TALES - EPISODE 2 - ECHOES OF THE HEART, "The One Who Got Away."

New York City, Upper East Side of Manhattan

Thrusting his hand in his pocket, Mike Sullivan made sure the little box from the jewelers was there. Of course, Amy might prefer to pick out her own ring, but she’d been hinting around about marriage for so long he guessed any ring would be welcomed.

On his way to the hair salon to pick up his girl, his phone dinged. It was a text saying they had been backed up and she was behind schedule. Already halfway there, he kept going.

His stomach became queasy. Was proposing to Amy a good idea? Good, old reliable Amy. Bill, his buddy, had made a case for her. He’d pointed out how dependable she was, how down to Earth, rock solid, predictable. She’d never surprise him with something unpleasant, like screwing around. Mike gave a short laugh. Nope, Amy would never cheat on him because he doubted anyone would ask.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t a beauty, though she put out a lot of effort and came damn close. The woman had no sexual heat, but she was dependable as hell. He knew, when he got home from work, dinner would be on the table fifteen minutes later –every single night. As he stood waiting for a red light to change, Bill’s words echoed in his head.

“What do you expect? Marriage is about give and take. You want someone who’s gonna be there to raise your kids. Pick ‘em up from school every day. Cook dinner. Amy’s an excellent cook.”

He was right about that. Amy could cook like a gourmet chef. Mike frowned.

“You’re not still mooning over that flaky chick from Fire Island, are you?” Bill had asked.

“You mean Heather?”

“Yeah. That’s the one. It’s fuckin’ five years already. You’ve looked everywhere for her. She’s gone, buddy. You need a dependable girl, like Amy. Get married. Have a couple of kids.”

“What about happiness?” Mike had asked.

“Much overrated,” Bill had said and shook his head.

Mike paled. 

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT #ROMANCE #HUDSONRIVER

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Howdy! Welcome. It's picture prompt week and the limit on words is 300. This week is a bit from a work-in-progress called, "The One that Got Away." This will be the first story in my new, second-chance anthology, Echoes of the Heart. Scroll down for the link back to the great stories at Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by.

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Heather sat at her regular table outside and pulled her sweater around her against the chill of early May. Would today be the day Mike showed up today, apologizing and hugging her tight? She sighed. She’d been there every Sunday for two months.  

“More coffee? Something stronger?” Pete the bartender asked.

“Hot toddy?”

“Coming up. Any sign of him?”

“Nope.  Not today.”

“Maybe next week. I’ll be right back.”

She buttoned the sweater. Her gaze studied the people conversing, drinking and have a late brunch at Charlie’s restaurant. The ones holding hands must be lovers, she figured. Some barely looked at each other or spoke. Other tables held three or four friends, chattering away and shoving forkfuls of food in their mouths. Heather was the only one who sat alone. Raising her chin slightly, she decided she didn’t care. Let people wonder whatever they wanted to.

   It took her five effing years to decide that Mike what’s-his-name was the love of her life. Determined to wait until she found him or he found her, she ignored the nagging feeling that this was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. She could hear her mother’s words.

“But you have that lovely Frenchman,”

“Belgian, Mom.”

“Belgian, French, Irish, who cares. Anyway. He’s lovely, rich and wants to marry you.”

“He never said marry,”

“Oh? I thought he did. Well to move in with him. Ah, the Netherlands,” he mother had said, sighing and clasping her hands over her heart.

   Who gives a flying you-know-what about the Netherlands? What about Heather’s heart? Didn’t her mother think she’d tried to find someone else? Heather had searched everywhere for someone else. But it was Mike or no one. And right now, with only two weeks to go, it looked like no one was winning.

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