Just Beneath The Surface – “Her Name Was Lisa” By A.H. Scott

 

Black 68 Chevy Nova exhibited the muscularity of masculinity, as this vehicle rolled out of its’ parking space onto that street of stillness. Shade of night accompanied the way he was feeling behind the wheel of his car, as darkness had a way of concealing blemishes of diminished perspective. 

Three blocks away from his place, a traffic jam of almost twenty cars was starting to build up. Honking horns and verbal vitriol made for a waltz of misfits. With those cars lined up at a red light, that Chevy Nova waited its’ turn to move forward. The night had a bit of an edge about it, as even the ordinarily cool temps in Palo Alto were teetering around eighty degrees. 

Yawning, as Hank sat there waiting for the traffic light to shift to green, he decided to turn on the car radio for a bit of company on his way to this night’s crime scene. Coincidence or kismet, the kind of company Adler was getting from the tune starting to play on that car radio was bad. Bad Company. 

Primary strains of Bad Company’s “Ready for Love’ came through the car radio, like a braid of burgeoning bliss with chords of caressing confidence. From those first rhythmic utterances of Rodgers’ core capability and Kirke’s persistent throb of play to Ralphs’ and Bozwell’s deft combination of smoothness and stamina, this quartets’ prime performance of sultry delivery ascended to a sensuous cresting.  

Traffic light turned green, as the Chevy Nova continued on its’ way from the urban bustle to a quieter locale of outer suburbia. 

Hank Adler’s grey eyes had a smoldering magnetism to them. His gaze was like a fisherman casting a line outward to anyone in his orbit. Dark brown hair mixed with incoming patches of grey, always gave him a resemblance of a man in need of a trim on the top and the sides. With a stature of six foot, two inches; he had a fit build that was not overly muscular. Adler’s routine of getting a run in before going into the precinct kept him fit enough to pass the department physical. But, being in his 40’s still proved time had a way of pulling in the reins, even on a once charging tiger. 

 

Muscles weren’t the only things which were sore on Detective Hank Adler, as his nerves had been in a constant state of bruising from all he’d witnessed over his years on the police force. Hank wasn’t completely numb to the predatory predilections of those he dealt with. Yet, there were those moments when the rope’s end had been closer than farther away.

Kindle – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09D1D969D/

Paperback – https://www.amazon.com/Her-Name-Was-Lisa-Book/dp/B09CRLZPQ1

Caressed In Blue – “Bad Guys Finish Fast & Good Guys Finish Last” by A.H. Scott

 

Silk shirt of light blue color was matched with black pants, socks and midnight blue, suede shoes with gold emblem design on the tongue of the footwear which gave Preston a look of relaxed sophistication for their night out at a nightclub in Mayfair. 

Tiberius strode into the bathroom as Miranda was coming out of the bathtub with a body glistening from a cascade of bubbles rolling downward into the tub. A delicious vision she was to see, as he grasped the white, bath towel that was on the sink counter and walked over to where she was standing. 

With a voice like rolling thunder, his low tone had a rumble to it as he spoke with a crisp observation of this bare beauty, “You look good enough to eat”.

“Oh, you shall feast later, Tiger”, She purred in response to his observation of her as wet fingers grabbed that towel from him.

Horny as always, Tiberius brushed right thumb against his chin while looking her up and down, “But, I’m in the mood for chocolate right now, sweet lady”.

“Well, well”, Miranda wrapped white towel around herself, “If you’re a good boy, Tiger, then I’ll give you a little something to hold you over, until we get back later tonight”, Left index finger tapped against his chest, in a motion of playful admonishment to him. 

 

“Shit, baby” He held onto that finger and put it into his mouth and gave a wink, “A taste of you goes a hell of a long way in taking me there”, Starting to suck that finger, he groaned a bit with pleasure. 

Miranda humored him, as she allowed that tucked towel to drop between them, “I’m still wet”. She turned up the heat by purposely rubbing up against his light blue, silk shirt, “And, now I guess you’ll need to get out of that shirt”, Knowing her lover well enough, she slowly bent downward and gave him a wink in return, “Now, what do you think should happen to these pants, Tiger?”

“You’re a smart girl, Randa”, Deep chuckle filled the air, as he added, “Figure it out, my luscious one”.

Tiberius Preston was more than satisfied with the level of sexual syncopation with his latest, luscious playmate. Miranda Grayson could give as well as receive anything lavished her way from him.

Kindle – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08MHD6DVQ

Paperback – https://www.amazon.com/Guys-Finish-Fast-Good-Last/dp/B092P76PJJ

Sketches Of Seduction –“Valerina’s Vineyard” by A.H. Scott

 

This man’s impulsivity rubbed off on Valerina as she slipped out of the bed without waking him. Taking few steps out of the bedroom, she opened the closet in the hallway and took out a large, leather portfolio from the bottom shelf. Placing object under her right arm, she pulled a box from the top shelf. 

Kneeling down and laying portfolio onto the floor, she removed the twine and pulled out a sketchbook and out of the box came two pencils. Because of this man, this woman was about to do something else she hadn’t done in many years.

Sitting in the window box of her bedroom, Valerina sketched Gio as he lay sleeping. Thinking about everything that had gone on since his arrival at the vineyard, she smiled to herself with every line of the pencil making contact with paper in capturing this beautiful subject. 

For a woman who had never known the touch of any other man aside her husband she married when she was 17, Valerina was a sheltered rose when it came to her own sexual horizon. Those obvious thoughts of what was occurring with Gio made their way through her psyche. Maybe, if they had been two different people at another place and time more than this quartet of days would be just the seed of a burgeoning relationship. 

Yet, that silver strand that dangled on her ankle opened her heart to a plateau of passion that she would have never imagined. Her soul ascended with this gift given by Gio. 

A ringing telephone downstairs broke her focus and sketchbook was tossed onto window seat, as she wanted that noise not to wake him before the sketch was completed. Valerina returned from answering the phone to find her sketchbook gone from the window box and Gio awake. 

Standing there naked with that sketchbook in his hands, he was nicely surprised at her artistry, “You are a woman of many wonderful gifts, Valerina”.

Kindle – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08JXH45K6

Paperback - https://www.amazon.com/Valerinas-Vineyard-H-Scott/dp/B092PJ9FBZ

Where Truth Resides – “The Lost Winter Of Lyla Strauss” By A.H. Scott

 

As he walked further towards the fireplace with a fresh supply of wood in his arms, a somber cloud of observation wafted from the area where the injured man stood. 

Lyla was in the same cabin as these two men, but didn’t comprehend that weight of this moment. 

She was blind to what was right in front of her eyes, while this Negro was not. 

He knew that look. 

Dancy Ruelaix had seen the look in a white man’s eyes more times than he could ever forget. Being a male of height and obvious presence, Dancy Ruelaix knew the feeling of seeming as tiny as the wisp of an eyelash in the denigrating eyes of a white man. 

Without a word being said; that look of inhumanity, hatred, judgment, belittlement, and bypass settled onto the being of Dancy Ruelaix. 

Rolling the pieces of lumber and twigs into a medium sized pile next to the right side of the fireplace he waited for the stranger in his home to speak first. 

Out of the side of his left eye, Dancy saw that words were not the primary mode of communication by this injured man; for Coulton was slowly reaching for the branch next to that bed, which he was using as a crutch to assist in walking. 

Dancy’s internal radar picked up on that twitch of fear radiating from Hollister, as that quaking hand began to cradle that branch. 

Ruelaix wasn’t going to flinch or cower in his own home, for he had worked too long and too hard to establish himself on the trading post and in Callaway. 

In the end, if there was one man leaving that cabin it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the person who put his blood, sweat, tears, and tenacity to survive the bitterest of nature’s elements over those many years. 

Coulton Hollister’s mind wasn’t as clear as his eyesight in seeing this Negro before him. 

Dancy decided to clear the air and the cobwebs of the man who he and Lyla had saved, “So, what’s your name, stranger?” 

At the bottom of that ravine at Banyon Pass, it was Coulton Hollister who hadn’t a clue of who pulled him out of death’s jaws. 

Kindle – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07M6J7YQC

Paperback – https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Winter-Lyla-Strauss/dp/B098GT2XXW/