Sunday, December 07, 2008

Excerpt Contest


One Touch, One Glance Anthology -- A collection of "sweet " romances

I am so pleased that my story "New Love" is part of this wonderful book and I am sharing space with such terrific writers. The book will release officially on December 9 -- It can be purchased HERE

As part of our release celebration we are having a contest. If you come here as part of the contest, the excerpt you are looking for is below. Have fun and good luck.



BLURB:

Love can be just as sweet the second time around. And there are no age limits.

EXCERPT:

“What am I doing? Acting like a love-sick teenager, that’s what.”

He made the personal indictment aloud while driving slowly down the tree-lined street checking addresses. Ten hours of driving had left him with burning eyes, and the shadows of near dusk were hard to penetrate. It didn’t help that he hadn’t been here in ten years. What if she’d moved since they had last seen each other? What if she didn’t want an eighty-year-old man showing up on her doorstep with courting in mind?

Then he saw it. Her house. A little yellow frame structure nestled between two sprawling brick ranches. It was so unique, he should have remembered the distinction and not bothered with trying to read addresses. He started to stop in front of her home, but panic struck and jangled his nerves. What if she’s married again? Accelerating, he drove past to the end of the street. There, he pulled to the curb and took a couple of deep breaths. Leaves of gold and red scuttled down the sidewalk driven by the evening breeze. God, Patrick, why didn’t you think of this sooner? A simple phone call would have answered that question.

He pulled out his cell phone and looked at it. It was a present from his kids. They had all agreed they would feel better if he had one while he was traveling. His son had programmed all the important numbers into the phone to make it easier for Patrick to call them. But he didn’t need numbers programmed for him. He might forget a lot of things. But not numbers. Even after all these years he still remembered Jean’s number. He could call now, and if a man answered, he’d hang up.

That thought elicited a chuckle. Was his life now a cliché?

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