Win a copy of my upcoming release...
Between now and the formal release date of August 29, 2012, I will accept e-mail entries to win a copy of this upcoming release. Simply go to my website and check out my contests page. The formal rules are shown there.
For
those of you who have already read this short novella under the title
First and Ten, the editing here is much better and there are a few plot
alterations because the book no longer relies heavily on the works of
my dear friends who wrote short stories for our original Anthology. If
you have not read it, please feel free to drop me an e-mail. The winner
will be chosen at midnight August 29, 2012.
An Excerpt From: COME, MY LOVE
Copyright © FRAN LEE, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
To:
franjamison@think_tank.com
From:
SikorskiK@WIndiU.edu
Hello to all of
Gracie’s Girls, class of 2002. Once again, thanks to all of you for the
flowers and phone calls after my aunt Gracie’s
passing last winter. You all meant so much to her, and to me.
As I’m sure you all
know, our ten-year college reunion is coming up
this summer. Since I now have Aunt Gracie’s big rambling house all to
myself, I’d like to extend an invitation. If any of you are coming back for
the reunion, you’re more than welcome to stay here, in your old rooms. Gracie
quit taking in college students several years back, so there’s no one here
but me and I’d love to have some company while I’m getting the house ready
to put on the market. So what do you say? One last time as roommates? It
would be great to see all of you again.
Hugs,
Karen
She hadn’t planned to attend, at least not
until she’d received Karen’s guilt-inspiring email. Every instinct she
possessed screamed at her to hit the delete key and pretend the email
hadn’t arrived, but she just couldn’t do that. Karen was having financial
problems and might have to sell the historic but dilapidated old Victorian
house they had all shared in college.
She shouldn’t feel so gun-shy, but even after
all these years it would be hard for her to go back and see all her old
pals with the memories of her college years slamming hard into her
refurbished self-image. A self-image that had taken her seven long years of
analysis and hard work to create.
Fran sighed and rubbed her temples, shoving her
reading glasses up onto her sleep-tousled head. She’d received the formal
reunion invitation last week but had tossed it without even looking at it.
No use reliving the whole college scene just to see how everyone else
looked… See how many of her friends had kids… How they had all changed over
the ten years since she’d last seen them. She certainly didn’t feel like listening
to them telling stories about new babies and favorite pets and how they’d
met their husbands.
All the things Fran had excluded from her life
in favor of monetary success and “being her own woman”.
Fran was far more realistic now. She refused to
kid herself. She had never found the man of her dreams and settled down to
raise a family, mainly because it had taken her seven years to get past her
own demented mental image of herself. And now that she finally recognized
her own worth and had learned to love herself as she was, she was way past
the wild need to flaunt her wares and try to trap some unwary male.
Besides, most men in her age bracket were already married. Or divorced and
on the rebound. Or just looking for a one-night stand. So far, that had
never quite appealed, no matter how good-looking the man in question
happened to be.
Men were not a necessity in life. Besides…she’d
royally screwed up, long ago, with the only man she’d ever really wanted
any sort of relationship with.
She ran her fingers through her wild curls and
pressed her thumbs against the bridge of her nose. Back then she’d been so
sure that the tentative advances he’d made were simply another way for the
jock community at WIU to have a laugh-fest at her expense. She’d reacted
defensively, tearing his ego into tiny strips. And then he’d basically left
her alone.
Damn…
Only years later, after many long sessions with
her uber-patient therapist, had it flashed with
astonishing clarity into her mind. Jack Gerrard—her
dream man—had actually tried to ask her out on a date. And she had gone off
on the man as if he’d just asked her to jump naked into an anthill.
She gave a sigh of resignation. The worst part
of it was that she’d always had the most pathetic crush on the man—most
girls had crushes on the hot, sexy hero of the WIU gridiron.
Even in high school, Gerrard
had always been in the company of cheerleaders and prom queens and the most
popular girls. They hung all over him like bees around a honey pot. One
look from those riveting blue eyes could make any girl drop her panties
with a scream of delight. But Jack had ignored them most of the time,
keeping up excellent grades so he could play varsity football. She supposed
that was the true attraction.
Sure. There she went, lying to herself again.
She’d been hot for his ripped body, just like all the other girls. But it
had gone deeper than that with her.
He had offered her some modicum of friendship,
and good-looking guys did not want to be pals with Fran Jamison. So when
that friendship was withdrawn without explanation or reason, it had torn
her up inside.
Hugs!
Fran
