Jean C. Joachim's Blog: Stories of Love and Passion, page 25

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "DANCE"

Back to Buddy Carruthers' story in the First & Ten series this week. The word prompt is "dance". Thank you so much for coming. Click on Tuesday Tales at the end of this post to go back to the wonderful writers on the Tuesday Tales blog. 

******  In the locker room, under a hot shower, Buddy thought back to the first time he and Emmy made love. They had been friends in college, hanging out, studying and eating together for weeks with nothing but a few steamy kisses, until the Spring Dance.
He’d attended all the dances in high school, even though he wasn’t much of a dancer. His best friend and quarterback for the Kensington State team, Mark Davis, had kidded Buddy about getting a date. It didn’t take him but a second to decide to ask Emmy. Buddy had seen the beauty and sweetness of the shy girl, hiding behind her guitar.  As he toweled off, he pictured her in a teal blue, shiny dress. It had hugged her curvy figure like a second skin. Once she had shed her baggy jeans and big shirts, she had been the most gorgeous girl on campus. He had wanted her.  They had danced mostly slow dances as neither one had liked dancing fast. She smelled of spring blossoms and shampoo. Buddy had wished everyone else would vanish, evaporate somehow, so they could be alone with the music.    It was warm for April. Buddy had taken Emmy out to eat, then they ended up at the old, deserted barn on the outskirts of town. Emmy had expressed interest in exploring the dusty, smelly structure.     Buddy had picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her across the soggy ground. The moon had shone through a hole in the roof. He put her down on some hay and joined her. As he put his car in gear, he remembered how soft her skin was. She was willing, almost anxious to give herself to him. He relished the idea of being her first. They had taken their time undressing, their shyness covered by shadows. He had been gentle and had tried to take his time, but the sight of her moon-kissed, naked body had stoked his passion beyond his endurance.    Stopped at a red light, the memory of his second try in that old barn, his amazing self-control and the pleasure he had received at satisfying her brought warmth to his heart. Tonight he was going to make love to her that same way. He could hardly wait to rekindle those old fires, still smoldering deep inside.     He turned into his street and raised his eyebrows at the sight of news vans blocking his driveway. Buddy maneuvered his way through the scraggly crowd. He evaded their questions, hammering him from all sides.   After murmuring “no comment” a dozen times, he pushed his way into the house and shoved the door closed. Silence greeted him.    “Gert! Gert! Are you here?”   A soft scuffling of feet greeted him. She appeared from the kitchen.   “What the hell? Where’s Emmy?” He dropped his keys on the front hall table.   “Gone, Mr. Carruthers. Gone.” She shook her head. 
BACK TO TUESDAY TALES TO MY WEBSITE            

TUESDAY TALES PICTURE PROMPT

Picture prompt week! We have a snippet from a new story, still forming, that will be book 5 in The Manhattan Dinner Club series. This is Kate's  untitled story. Thank you for stopping by.

***** Kate looked out the window, watching fluffy flakes falling steadily. Pulling a blanket tighter around her shoulders, she returned to her chair by the fire. Her pug, Lulu, curled into a ball on a cushion next to the blaze. Kate opened her cell and dialed. “I’m stranded, Terry. The furnace isn’t working and I think my car battery died. Motor won’t turn over.”
“What do you want me to do? It’s Thanksgiving. I’ve got plans.
We’re not married anymore. You wanted that old wreck, Kate. Deal with it.”
“But it’s freezing up here. Snowing, too.”
“Throw another log on the fire and figure it out. I’m not coming up there to rescue you. Those days are over.”

He hung up. Tears pricked at her eyes.
Terry had always taken care of the things like the furnace. Kate had no idea what to do and it was Thanksgiving. She had tried one or two repair numbers, but went to right voicemail.
No one was fixing furnaces. They were gathering with their family and friends in cozy, warm houses while she froze alone. She braved the cold to haul in several more logs, then plopped down, cross-legged to warm herself in front of the fire. Her cell rang.
“Hey, lady, I was wondering if you wanted to catch brunch with me this morning.”
“Jeff?” Kate blew out a breath as she explained she wasn’t in the city. She recounted her plight before wishing him a happy holiday and hanging up. She prepared a bowl of cereal and piled up all the blankets she could find. Kate and her pug huddled together. Warmed by the flames, they dozed.
Two hours later, there was a loud knock. She yawned and padded across the room. Surprise mixed with relief when she opened the door.
“Jeff?”
Thanks for coming! Comments are always appreciated. BACK TO TUESAY TALES
TO MY WEBSITE

SECRET CRAVINGS WOUNDED WARRIOR BLOG HOP

 WELCOME! Thanks for coming. I'll donate $1.00 for every comment or $1.50 for every new subscriber to my newsletter (scroll down to subscribe), up to $100, to THE WOUNDED WARRIOR PROJECT. Christmas is a time for giving.
  “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.”
― George Orwell

***** I'm also giving away this bracelet to one lucky commenter chosen at random. Christmas is a time for giving! LEAVE your name and your email address in your comment. Any comments without emails can't be eligible to win (because I can't contact you).  *****

Christmas is a time for fun, too! Here are some of my book covers, dressed up for the holidays. They make great gifts. Most are also available in paperback. 
Subscribe to my newsletter HERE


 (this book is free)




 Thank you for coming. May you have a happy and healthy holiday. RETURN TO THE BLOG HOP HERE  to be entered to win a $50 gift card!  MY Website  HERE
Don't forget to leave a comment & your email!

TUESDAY TALES - READ BUDDY'S CONTINUING STORY

Welcome back! Today's word prompt is "raid." We return to the First & Ten series and Buddy Carruther's story. 
******

Buddy couldn’t sleep. He padded downstairs to the kitchen. His raid on the refrigerator didn’t turn up much. A bottle of champagne, six pack of beer and some old cheese. He found two, chocolate-covered ice cream bars in the freezer. They had been there a long time. He didn’t care. He put the kettle on for a cup of chamomile tea and unwrapped a frozen treat.  He straddled a chair and watched the kettle while he chomped on the pop. A glance at the clock told him it was three. It was dark outside, the house was still.
The question rolling through his mind, keeping him from sleeping was about Emmy. How can I make her quit singing and marry me? After seeing her again, the dim, but persistent feelings for her in his heart blossomed in full color, pushing out all other women. The man, who was content to be a love-‘em-and-leave-‘em kinda guy, had disappeared.  Visions of Sunday mornings with Emmy, reading the paper, brunch, and making love filled his head.
“How do you tame a wild woman who’s got the world at her feet?” He said to no one. Buddy shook his head. In the dead silence, a scratching at his door reverberated like a Velociraptor trying to break in. Buddy went to the back door and peered out. A whine and another scratch drew his attention.
He opened the door to find a rail-thin pug dog, sitting on his back step, raising its huge eyes to Buddy’s. He stepped back and let the scruffy, dirty dog in.
“Look at you. You need a bath.” He picked up the small canine under the belly and hauled it into the bathroom.
After a bath, Buddy boiled up eggs for the starving pooch. The dog gobbled down two then curled up at the wide receiver’s feet.
“Just what I need, a dog. Damn. I can’t take care of you. But you can stay tonight.”
Now, if he could find a way to have Emmy scratching at his door, life would be perfect.
He shook his head.
“Yeah. Good luck with that.” The dog barked. RETURN TO TUESDAY TALES Check out my books HERE

TUESDAY TALES - WRITING TO THE PROMPT "STUFFED"

Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. This is a scene from my new series, First & Ten. This is wide receiver, Buddy Carruther's, story. You'll be seeing Buddy and his mom here. Hope you like it. Feel free to lave a comment. Back to Tuesday Tales HERE  
“Twenty grand?”“It’s your money, Buddy. You’ve earned it.”
He rolled the card over and over, staring at it.
“Just don’t lose it.”
“I won’t, Ma,” he replied, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
 “You’re not just skirt chasing, are you?” She glanced up from her task.“This is serious.”
“Good. ‘Cause you’ve done enough of that. Time to settle down. You’re almost twenty-eight.”
“I know. She’s the one I’ve been waiting for.”
“I always liked Emmy. A shy one, but smart.”
“Yeah. She’s still great. This time I’m not going to be a jerk.”
“Well for Christ’s sake, I hope not!” Verna gave her head a brief shake. “Dinner’s ready. Wash up.”
Buddy washed his hands in the kitchen, then returned. He sat down and bowed his head while his mother said grace. One slice into the meat told him it was done just the way he liked it.
“Ma, you’re incredible, you know that?” He stuffed a piece of steak into his mouth.
Verna blushed and sliced hers into smaller pieces. “Aw, Buddy.”
“No. Really. You are.” He squeezed her hand.
“I only want you to be happy.”
“I am, Ma. I am. And when Emmy and I get together, life will be complete.”
“Wish your dad could have been here to see your success.”
“Me, too.”  
Verna teared up for a moment. She fanned the air in front of her face for a second, then smiled. “You’re the best son in the world.”
Buddy grinned. They don’t make them like her anymore.
Verna dug into her salad. “So tell me. What’s the strategy for getting around the Nevada Gamblers?”

Thanks again for coming. 
My website

TUESDAY TALES - STARK

Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This week's word prompt is "stark". We return to the story of Buddy Carruthers, Wide Receiver for the Connecticut Kings and Emmy Meacham, known today as "Emerald" They meet for the first time in college. Be sure to return to read the awesome works by the other Tuesday Tales writers, HERE .
********* 
Buddy liked to take an early morning swim before football practice.In college, he’d sneak out to a local pond at six, shed his clothes and quietly lower himself, stark naked, into the cool water. 
While his buddies were sleeping off the alcohol from the night before, Buddy was doing his “fish exercises” as he called the Australian Crawl.  The campus was sleeping when Buddy cut through the water with a smooth, expert stroke. A few strains from a guitar stopped him short. He glanced at the small dock and spotted a young woman sitting against a tree, strumming. 
She played the folk song, “500 Miles” and sang softly, keeping her gaze on the strings. When she was done, his voice broke the quiet.
“Nice. Where’d you learn to play?”
His gaze swept over her T-shirt, skirt and bare leg. Nice body.
She looked up. “Lessons. I’m a music major.”
“I’m an education major.”
Her soft brown eyes drew his attention.
She made a derisive snort. “Figures.
You’re a jock, right?”
“Football.”
She put the instrument aside and stood up.
“Don’t leave. Play some more.”
“Why?”
“I like it.” He started to climb the ladder, but stopped when he remembered he was naked. “Can you throw me my clothes?”
She did and turned around. Buddy scrambled up the ladder and dressed in a flash.
“I’m Buddy Carruthers.” He put out his hand.
“Emmy Meacham.” But she didn’t offer hers.
“One of those snobs? Too good for an athlete?” His eyes narrowed and his jaw stiffened.
Her gaze dropped. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that athletes are out for one thing.”
“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t even know me and you think I only want to sleep with you?”
“Don’t you?” She stare back at him.
“What man wouldn’t?”
“I thought so.” She turned, but Buddy grabbed her by the elbow.
“Hey. Wait a minute. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know you.”
“I’m working to pay for school. I don’t have time for heartbreaking romeos.”
“I’d never break your heart.”
“Yeah? Wanna bet?” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Give me a chance.”
“Why should I?” Her lips puckered up into a pout that he found irresistible.
Buddy kissed her quickly, then would her arm through his.
“Tell me your life story over breakfast.” He steered them toward the student union.


MY WEBSITE

A WALK THROUGH CENTRAL PARK WITH ME

Welcome, thanks for coming. Here are some of my latest photos of Central Park. It's stunning this time of year and I'm so happy to share it with you. Let me leash up Homer to walk with us and enjoy the colorful scenery.
Another turret of The Museum of Natural History

















My website

Sign up here for my newsletter

My Free books

Thanks for stopping by! Don't forget to leave a comment.

PICTURE PROMPT WEEK! Welcome! It's picture pr...

 PICTURE PROMPT WEEK!  Welcome! It's picture prompt week this week. That means only 300 words, too. Don't forget to visit the rest of the talented Tuesday Tales authors, scroll down for the link.  Giselle wrapped her fingers around the large mug of hot chocolate and stared into the fire. The Will Benson she had loved didn't exist anymore. Mesmerized by the dancing flames, her mind drifted back to five years ago, and lazy summer Saturdays spent with him.    The old house they believed was haunted when they were kids had become a place to hang out, to hide from prying, adult eyes. Giselle and Will would slip on bathing suits, go for a swim, then dry off in the house. Sometimes they made love there. She smiled as she remembered losing her virginity to Will in the old house when she was seventeen.      He had been so sweet, careful and sensitive to her feelings. He never pushed her. But her natural desire for him urged her along, trusting her most precious possession to him.     She tried not to be shy, but didn't quite succeed. He turned his back as she got undressed, then tossed her his shirt.     "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to. You'll still be my girl."    "Will."    "I don't want you to have regrets."    She had shut him up with a kiss and rest was history.      What had happened to destroy that wonderful young man and put this angry soul in his place? Giselle wanted to be the key that unlocked the door to the Will Benson she loved.    The creak of the rusty hinges alerted her. She shifted under the blanket. Will crouched down. He combed her hair back from her face with his fingers. She palmed his cheek.TU    "Are you real?"    His smile was dazzling. "I will be if you convince me you're not leaving."    When a log let out a loud crack, she awoke with a start. She was alone. MORE TUESDAY TALES
MY WEBSITE

TUESDAY TALES - FLOWER

Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. This week the word prompt is "flower". We return to the First & Ten series and Buddy Carruthers story. We meet up with Emmy, his old college girlfriend again.

********
“Time to get up.”
She rolled over, waving Shady away. “Not yet.”“Now. We’ve got to get to Houston today.”
“No.”He pulled the covers off her and threw them on the floor. “Dammit, I said now!”

She frowned and forced herself to sit up. “I was having the best dream.”“Yeah? Dreamin’ about fuckin’ the next Grammy winner?”
“My dreams aren’t raunchy like yours.” She slid her legs over the side and pushed to her feet.“Get dressed. Pack. We’ve gotta leave.”
“Good thing you’re not a doctor. Your bedside manner stinks,” she said.“I’m better in bed than next to it.”
That’s what you think. In an hour, Emmy was sitting by the window of her comfortable tour bus as it rolled out of New Orleans and headed west. She had a concert in Houston, the next day, then two more in Texas as she sang her way to California.
She leaned back in a plush chair by the window and daydreamed. Wish I could get that dream back. Damn Shady. She’d been dreaming about a house. Funny, but she couldn’t wait to get away from her father and step-mother and their little house in Oak Bend. 
This was a recurring dream about her own farmhouse, with a big garden. There were lots of flowers: orange, bright pink, and white, in her dream. She’d be sitting on the front porch. The curious part was that when the door opened, it wasn’t Shady who joined her. It was Buddy Carruthers, the love of her life who she’d left behind five years ago. She shifted in her seat. I wonder how
Buddy’s doing. Is he still playing football? 
 Shady interrupted her thoughts. “The Connecticut Kings want you to sing the national anthem. Should I toss this?”
“Tell them I will. And set a date.”
Emmy, known as Emerald, smiled. Time to put this dream to rest.

Return to fabulous writers for more Tuesday Tales HERE
My website HERE

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK

 Jo Parker smoothed the silk of her deep purple dress with dry palms. It was one week before training camp. She’d dated sexy Coach Bass a couple of times, but it never went farther than a goodnight kiss. Tonight would be different.
The bodice of her dress was tight. It dipped low and was held up precariously by spaghetti straps. Of course, she wore no bra. She patted her hair, making sure the soft, touchable tendrils of her honey- blonde hair hung down. Her heels were spiked slides, shoes she and her college roommate used to call “fuck me shoes”.
Oh, yes. Coach Bass didn’t stand a chance tonight. Jo Parker was on the prowl and what she wanted, she got.
She pushed open the door of The Savage Beast, and smiled when a blast of cold air hit her. With her nerves on edge, the air conditioning would keep her from sweating.
She sauntered up to the bar, where the Coach was waiting for her. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw her. She threw him a saucy smile and slipped onto a stool next to him. His gaze roamed slowly over her curves.
“What would you like?” His voice squeaked.
“Cosmo?”
He ordered, then cleared his throat. She stifled a chuckle. Seemed like her form fitting dress was making the Coach nervous and she enjoyed every minute. When her drink arrived, he toasted her.
“To a beautiful woman. You look amazing. Casey’s for dinner, okay?”
Jo nodded, then leaned over, resting her hand on his thigh, giving him a tantalizing view of her cleavage. He stared at her breasts, while gulping his beer. 
“My place for dessert?” She whispered.  
Coach Bass almost choked on his drink. 
Back to Tuesday Tales My website