Just before his death, I released BB&B. I paid for edits and uploaded the books to Amazon and Smashwords. Somehow, those edited versions were not what was released. It is my fault. I somehow lost those files. I know I was dealing with computer problems at the time.
So, now I am happy to say I've edited Boxer Briefs & Boots and will rerelease it in May.
Chapter 1 Excerpt.
“Annoying diva,” Jacy muttered. No, that was not right. Diva was a frustrating female singer. Hmm, prima dona? No, ballerina. What was a has-been male model called? Hmm, several unmentionable names her nana used before her catch-phrase ‘bless his heart’ came to mind but wasn’t strong enough for the buffoon before her.
She just wanted him to stop. The guy was unbelievable and up to his antics—again. She shook her head as the model turned, swinging his narrow hips back and forth in an exaggerated wiggle; a blatant come-on. Another involuntary shudder wracked her shoulders as he sashayed toward the far side of the room as if to say, ‘follow me’.
“It’ll be easy. A few hours, tops. Not like taking pictures of screaming babies,” Jacy mimicked her friend’s, Tamara, words, as she snatched up the leather camera case off the floor. Crying babies had spit up on her, pulled her hair, and screamed bloody murder.
But no one had ever treated her this bad. Not the testosterone laden high school football team taking group and individual pictures. Nor Clarksville’s local male strippers, all sweaty, half-naked, and during a show. And no one ever suggested she might be more comfortable taking pictures in the nude.
If he didn’t stop—she wasn’t sure what she’d do. No act or lewd remark was taboo.
Hmm, maybe shed could doctor the photos. Give him wrinkles, make his skin pumpkin orange, which wasn’t too much of a stretch from the color now; Photoshop in a tattoo. A grandmother straddling a Harley with the caption: “Her Bitch,” or maybe a third nipple.
Nah, she considered then discarded every devious idea. Revenge would be so sweet, though. Her shoulders slumped with the next thought, but short-lived. Not to mention ruin her future plans. Which were more important than one loser. A movement caught her eye. She made the mistake of looking. Ah, the toad—manager. Kissing ass was an understatement. Now, after ten hours, Jacy was hot, tired, hungry, and more than fed-up with the men’s repeated attempts to get her into the oversized bed.
Well, it was time to get used to their type. Their only saving grace was they weren’t as bad as beauty pageant mothers. She squelched a shudder and turned back to packing up her equipment. With practiced ease, she removed the zoom lens from the camera and nestled it into its foam slot. Carefully, she laid the camera into its slot. She peered into the bag, double checking she hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, she zipped the bag and set it on the floor.
A light touch on her arm made her jerk her head up in time to see the model shimmying past. “What the…” Jacy choked on the question. She blinked. She reasoned her tired eyes played tricks on her, had to be. She shut them, squinched them tight for a second, then ever so slowly opened them.
Tighty-whitey boxer briefs dipped or hitched. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Good grief, was he—? Oh, please let that be all there was to his—dancing?
The ham sandwich she ate six hour ago churned in her stomach as she watched in morbid fascination. He reached out and clutched the thin, tall bedpost as he proceeded to wiggle and twirl and buck his hips to an off-kilter rhythm playing in his distorted mind. Wrenching her frozen gaze from the awful scene in front of her, she picked up the pace. Time to get out of here, girl.
Behind her the mattress springs creaked, then a loud thud sounded as something hit the floor. Immediately another followed. Black leather boots, she surmised; props for the shoot. She ignored him, silently counting as she pointed to one, two, and the third case all packed up. Satisfied, she turned to dismantle the lights.
Naked model, the words flashed in her overtaxed brain. She blinked, again, and then once more. “No way.” He turned. Shock rooted her to the spot and rendered her speechless. Yep—the full Monty— Jacy jerked her gaze upward.
He waggled his eyebrows and before she could ignore the offensive come-on he flashed her a smile. Brilliant, even white teeth blinded her. Had to be capped. With another waggle of his brows and his hips, Jacy snapped out of the nightmare she was trapped in. The man refused to take no for an answer.