I got a little feedback, about what I expected. It’s my own form of proving Einstein’s definition of insanity correct. But I keep hoping…. In any case, after careful reflection and weighing the pros and cons of each choice, I decided to present First Love.
I know that no one voted for it, but I got to thinking about the other choices and decided that Mirrored, while a really good book, is way hotter than I should probably present on a public board. I will publish it next year instead. Love, Death and Pizza has the potential for inadvertently offending people, so I’ll wait on it, too. I got to reading through Poplar Mountain and there are some edits needed, so I dismissed it. That left First Love and A Novel Romance.
A Novel Romance is pretty steamy, too, so that left First Love. So…. Welcome to 1975! For some of you, this takes you back to your teens and twenties. To others, this is The Old Days before you were born. For me, it is a memory of a simpler time, of good friends and great music.
For those of you who like a steamy story, I’m sorry. This one is teenagers under 18, so there’s none of that naughty stuff. For those of you who like an action packed story with a little light romance, this is just the thing for you!
I hope you will enjoy First Love with me. Below is a teaser. The full story begins next Sunday, November 22. Break out your dancing shoes and get ready to dance the night away with Madison Reynolds and her friends.
Somewhere in Eastern Colorado, July 1975
Heat waves radiated from the pavement glittering like silvery-black puddles in the air. The ribbon of road stretched ahead of them, unending. The landscape hardly varied, one dusty brown mile after another. Here and there a cactus, scrawny tree or tumbleweed added some variety to the monotonous hued backdrop.
“Cows!” Brad yelled, breaking the silence. “Must be a hundred at least.”
“Dude, they’re like four,” his friend, Clayton, said in a bored tone.
“I’m estimating. That gives me 4,361 cattle.”
“That gives you five,” Clayton persisted. “And I have—what? Five.” He pointed to a lone bovine on his side of the car.
“Creative cattle counting. One is one—two is—” Brad tipped his head, closing one eye. “Fifty?”
“Then by that logic, my one cow is worth twenty-five.”
“No. One is one. Ask anybody. Isn’t one cow just one cow?” He appealed to the other six people in the station wagon.
“One is one—two is two,” Madison Reynolds pointed out. “But creative counting is accepted practice in Bury the Cows. He’s right, though, Brad. If two cows is worth fifty, one cow is twenty-five.”
“Fine. I concede that. But I’m still ahead.”
“You can’t count the billboard for the dairy, man. We discussed this.”
“Okay, but I’m still ahead.”
“You mean you were ahead,” Maddie pointed.
To their left, on Clayton’s side, there was a field of 100 actual cows.
“Who’s ahead now?” Clayton punched Brad in the shoulder.
© 2015 Dellani Oakes