Love, with a taste of the romance


Love   413siqqbgal._sy400_.jpg

The cover alone should entice you. The story edited re-written for a smoother feel and a more fluid take.
If you love romance, have friends who love romance, here you go…

 

There is so much in advertisement that I have yet to learn. I would love it if my readers would spread this book by word of mouth. The story is one that will be thrilling, enjoyable, romantic, pulling at your heart strings, and an overall great experience.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530013704/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_awdo_AISYwb0NEC07M

Here enjoy the beginning:

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The Drive
A small squeal gave out as I turned in my seat. Humidity brought about a thin layer of moisture to the skin, which just would not let go. My car was out to get me. I strained to survive driving my car every day. The summer was not kind in these evergreen mountains. But then again it never was, there was so much that I hated about summers. My car just added to the pain of it.
People would comment about the beauty and the joy of being able to spend nice camping trips in the surrounding area. I had never been camping before, that is not until meeting her. I doubted that I would ever go again but we never know. Click, the sound boring a hole, deep into my skull, every time I heard it. Click, the sound a reminder, a solid unforgettable reminder, that I had spent money on something that was more of a pleasure than anything of worth.
CLICK.
“Dam windows work,” my yelling did little to move the windows.
A bead of sweat built up on my forehead. My little sauna of a car with windows that did not role down. Gremlin, what a piece of shit this car was. But what a name. It was the name which made me buy it figuring the chances would be high that the real ones would never try and harm one of their own. They weren’t. The little bastards turned my little driving box into a lemon overnight.
My skin curled as the bead of sweat worked its way down my face, neck and body. At least I could say that I was working on losing weight. She would have loved the idea of me losing a few pounds, it would have brought a chuckle to her that is if I had dared to bring her with me. The fates had smiled on me this day though as she had decided to meet me instead of riding with me. Or had they…
It was mid-June and here I was on my way to meet my bride to be. I had made up my mind. I would finally ask her. She would have been running to the hills had she realized just how soon I had decided to marry her.
It was common knowledge around my inner circle that I wanted to marry this lovely creature if only for the mere fact that she forced in me changes. Changes which I would not make on my own. She made me a better person and there was no way that I could deny that plain and simple fact.
Here I was driving to some coffee shop she had found in the outskirts of the city. A place she had spent visiting with friends. If my windows had only been in working order. That would be a point of gratitude for leaving the city. At least the breeze would have cooled me in this darn heat. ‘Click’ is the only sound that they made.
Leaving the comfort of my surroundings didn’t even cross her mind. The thought that it had would mean only one thing. That meaning would be that the true fact of such a far excursion was to irk me a little, not so much that I would get angry but… she would have to coax a smile out of me before I would be willing to join in any form of conversation upon arriving.
I often wondered if she knew that my windows of my car did not work. She had only been in it at night. Had she figured it out? The question jumped to the front of my mind.
How could I have been such an idiot?
There was the trip a few weeks ago to Venice beach. She meant to meet me there only for me to find that she had not come and I had to drive back all in a day with flowers melting from the heat.
Her game was up I now knew that she enjoyed making me drive in the heat of day knowing full well that my windows did not function, turning my car into a smoldering sauna as I traveled to any given place.
It was a good thing that my heater worked well or she may have me freezing my skin off on some fool’s errand into the mountains in the midst of a blizzard.
Such was the agony of the first summers where I drove in the heat of the day to some place or another only to find the food barely edible and way overpriced. I would highly doubt that any other man in love with a woman would have fared any better than I.
New Age food never quite agreed with me. This whole eat it raw culture that was blooming throughout the world stank of yuppie health guru hearsay with no real backing in science. What had happened to the world in these past few years? After all I was raised knowing that the only way to be healthy was exercise and yet people kept falling for these health scams.
I would quickly point out to her the constant deathly look of these so called health nuts. Still, she enjoyed the seclusion that these places offered. This was one of her quirks, it was her unique perspective of her surroundings, and it was in the end something that would take me the better part of our relationship to figure out.
These high end restaurants serving little more than rocks and twigs with strong coffee would never survive in a city where the general populace wanted real food.
It was my reasoning as to why they were always out of the way or even better hard to find. There are always two kinds of places that are hard to find when it comes to food. The exotic in which people try hard to find that one restaurant where the food was to their liking. The other are dives, complete holes in the ground with nothing good to their name except the fact that you could forget how to go there very easily as to not make the mistake of ruining your sense of taste again.
So here I found myself driving in circles looking for a wooden sign that stated Curly’s coffee. There was the hope that this was not a hurtful experiment on my sense of taste. But then again she did like to play with me. Even in getting to the place there was the fact that her directional experience was nothing to be admired as the closest thing she would say to an actual street name would be to point out a land mark.
Yet I find it rather frustrating to receive a text message with “Turn left off of the freeway and go until you get to the street with the Oak Tree and a local school doing a carwash.” Even reading it out loud I could not put any tone that would take away my frustration.
Messages like those kept me going in circles knowing full well that by the time I arrive the local event would be a few hours over with. I had to become a detective looking for signs of such happenings. I was lucky in this round as two factors played in my favor. The day before it had rained and these yuppie communities always preferred to have their cars washed because natural rain water would leave spots on the oh-so precious paint jobs. The second being the heat of the day today meant the parents would not be so worried about their kids playing with water.
She apparently knew this as the twist in this adventure being a hand written sign which for the love of the great maker was nowhere to be found. I would have to stop and ask for directions which in today’s world was a risky transaction. The younger generations were all used to their new-fangled gadgets and GPS which would lead them to their given destinations while the older generations would be indoors on a day like today where the heat took the mercury to the triple digits.
In the gas station I would make the move to ask for directions hoping that the attendant was someone who would know this mysterious coffee place that I was looking for.
The gas stations were places that I was fond of in my travels outside of the city. They were after all populated by real people not slacking drop outs that could not tell you the way towards a good restaurant since non-of-them were ever from the area where the gas station was located.

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