Sunday, June 12, 2011

I'm about 8K away from finishing another co-written novel that's due out in September. This one is written with the lovely Chris Owen and shows what happens when a computer geek falls in love with a firefighter. Oh, and the fireman just happens to have a bitch of an ex-wife and a seven year old daughter. The computer geek has a dog with six puppies. Love is never easy, people!

Here, have a little snip:

It felt like a year had passed before he finally saw the firefighter emerge again, and by that time the building had become almost totally obscured by the thick, dirty smoke. Too many people were still in his way and he couldn’t tell if the fireman had found his poor Q, her belly swollen with pups.

He craned his neck and stood on tiptoe, trying to peer past the police officer that was keeping him from dashing to his building. Had the firefighter gotten to her? And had it been in time? Deuce was just on the verge of saying fuck it and risking arrest, but suddenly the flock of people in front of him melted away and he was face to face with a pair of strong arms that cradled his pregnant dog.

“Q!” He reached out his arms to take the squirming, panting mutt. “Is she okay? Are you?”

Q’s tongue lolled and she whined and wiggled until he put her down. Holding onto her collar, Deuce crouched down next to her and looked up at the firefighter. “Thank you. God, I can’t even tell you.” He pet Q with one hand, made her sit and held on tight. “Thank you,” he repeated.

The firefighter took off his helmet and wiped at his forehead. He nodded at Deuce and leaned down to give her a pat. “She’s a nice girl. Came right to me and let me pick her up.”

“She wasn’t real scared?” Deuce noticed his own hand was shaking and he reached up to push it through his hair to make it stop. His knuckles hit his bike helmet though, and he let out a shaky breath before undoing the snap and taking the helmet off. “I’m a mess. Thank you so much, again."

“She was a little scared.” The man shrugged and pet Q’s head again, his gloves still on. “But not like some pets I’ve tried to grab. Got bit right through my turnouts once by some little yappy dog."

"What’s your name?”

"Trey Donovan. And she is...?”

“Q. Well, her vet papers still say Cutie, but that’s a stupid name. I got her about two years ago after a break up and took the liberty of cooling her up.” Deuce gently stroked her belly. “She got loose on me, though.”

The corner of Trey’s mouth lifted as he gazed at the dog’s stomach. “She wasn’t spayed, obviously? Don’t you listen to what Bob Barker tells you?”

Deuce didn’t blush, but he did nod contritely. “Lesson learned, for sure. It’ll be taken care of as soon as she’s ready. I’m not sure how long we have to wait after the puppies come, but the vet will tell me. I hope they’re okay.”

Q whined again and looked at them both, her tail thumping on the ground. She was still panting, and Deuce decided he’d have to find some water for her really soon.

Someone was yelling for Trey, who glanced over his shoulder and nodded. He gave one last pat to Q and shifted his helmet to under his other arm. “Good luck getting rid of the puppies,” he laughed. “My kid would love one.” Then he turned and headed back in the direction he’d come from, presumably to do something else heroic.

“Your kid is totally getting one,” Deuce said, mostly to Q. “Right? Right.” He watched Trey talk to someone and then vanish into the smoke, but not before he saw the big ‘11’ on Trey’s helmet. “We’ll track him down.”


Watch for that in mid-September!

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