Charlie has come to visit

She brings with her, a brilliance. Aunt takes her shopping for the first time in her young life. She passes all her studies and decides to stay in the easy class. This will be the best school ever. Next comes Northwestern University. Her mother never gets in touch with her all through the years. Brother Jimmy stays far away until one day, he calls. He choses to be with his dearest Charlie. Aunt and Uncle send a ticket for their nephew and soon he becomes part of the family.

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Reconstructucting Charlie

In 1996, I killed my father. Dear old Dad was great with a belt. A belt of whiskey. A belt from around his waist unbuckled when you least expected and I knew it was coming and some of us escaped later when it was coming. Not me. not Mom. Never Mom. I’m the oldest. I didn’t  want to see the little ones see the okay dad turn into a monster Dad on payday. Every Payday.

I heard the television turned up loud before I turned it up before  I opened the door. Mom always on up, he’d watch the Minnesota Twins beat the hell out of the Boston Red Sex. Not a great year for the Twins. On this day, after I dropped off the kids, I hoped for a distraction. Maybe this time instead of beating us up, I raced home just in time to be with Mom

The front door banged open hard enough to rattle the dishes in the cabinet. A painted porcelelain egg rolled to the edge, teetered for a second. The small egg cracked with the force of a  bomb. a jackhammer all his sorry life and ugly drunk. I wrestled it out of his filthy hands and hit him good.

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The Catch-an exciting story to love

Tom Donnelly, once know as The Catch-every woman’s dream guy, has fallen down every rung of the ladder he once worked so hard to climb. On New Year’s Day, he realizes how far he’s fallen and makes a list of resolutions to change his life. He vows to regain the trust lost from his family, his law firm, and his friends_ and maybe even find the right woman this time.

He crosses paths with Joanne McKenna Friedman-a smart young lawyer, beautiful on the outside, damaged on the inside. Joanne’s secret past leaves her distrustful of everyone. Until a court case comes up to threaten her career and even her life, and she turns to Tom for help.

 

WIP Continued

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Author Charmaine Gordon

Let Charles make the first move if he intended to when he knocked on the door

“Charles, does a drink appeal to you before we leave?”

He shook his head. “You appeal to me and right now. Do you mind if I hold you, kiss you, touch you? I’ve heard you’re a recent widow. I’m divorced for a while and I’ve gone out several times, a bunch of times, um, a whole lot of times but never felt drawn to a woman like you before.”

They continued to stand near the doorway, dogs at their feet. Joan pushed him back for some space. “Perhaps I’m someone new, a woman who shoots skeet and rides a Harley. She walked fast to the small bar to see what’s what. Actually the Chardonnay sat cold in the fridge.  Her preference.  His arms went around her small waist as if they’d done that a…

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WIP Continued

Let Charles make the first move if he intended to when he knocked on the door

“Charles, does a drink appeal to you before we leave?”

He shook his head. “You appeal to me and right now. Do you mind if I hold you, kiss you, touch you? I’ve heard you’re a recent widow. I’m divorced for a while and I’ve gone out several times, a bunch of times, um, a whole lot of times but never felt drawn to a woman like you before.”

They continued to stand near the doorway, dogs at their feet. Joan pushed him back for some space. “Perhaps I’m someone new, a woman who shoots skeet and rides a Harley. She walked fast to the small bar to see what’s what. Actually the Chardonnay sat cold in the fridge.  Her preference.  His arms went around her small waist as if they’d done that a hundred times.

“I said I only want you and now.”

“You must be kidding. We just met this afternoon. Trust me, tonight, we’re going to see a play or nothing. Take your pick.” She felt his hands steer her movements. It felt so exciting. Never in her whole life did she almost give in to pleasure so fast and to a stranger. Joan turned to face Charles. Her breath ran fast and she stopped again. “No and no to everything except for seeing your playhouse or maybe you don’t even have one. You’re used to a quick lay from a widow, I can tell. The answer again is NO.”

At her words, his face took on a red cast like a blush. “I’m so sorry; all I can say is I am truly embarrassed at behaving so crazy but there’s something delectable about you I couldn’t resist.” His head hung down like a child’s. “Please may we begin again. Pretend you just opened the door and offered me a drink. In truth, I seldom drink anything and you gathered your um bag and we left. The theater is about twenty minutes from here, down near the lake, it’s so beautiful there. The play is one of my favorites; Uncle Vanya and the cast is good.”

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Thanksgiving Past

Looking back and forth with author Charmaine Gordon

The Ghost of Thanksgiving Past

Back in the days when people didn’t lock the front door or car doors, the big family I belonged to gathered at my parent’s home for Thanksgiving. When I say big-I’m talking BIG. Grandma and Grandpa had ten kids. My mom was in the middle and somehow she became the hub of the wheel of this family.

Picture this: Grandparents seated at one end of the table, candlelight shining on their white hair and proud faces. At the other end sat my father, leaning back in the chair, master of all he surveyed. Every other chair was occupied by an uncle while my aunts scurried back and forth from kitchen to dining room carrying trays heaped with enough food to feed a small nation. And as they waitressed, they managed to gossip about everything and everyone.

Did I mention that the table extended into the living room? Well it did, to accommodate all the cousins who were up to no good. Boys of all ages and me, the first girl born to this rowdy bunch and two quiet girl cousins. We couldn’t wait to finish dinner and crawl under the grown-up table and sit with legs of various relatives all around us, while we listened to adult conversation and tried to stifle laughter. We weren’t discovered until cigar and cigarette smoke from above sent us coughing and choking for fresher air.

Ah, sweet memories.

 

 

Wip-check this out

Newly widowed Joan has her mind in a spin. What to do with his car now that he’s gone and his Harley. Yum. She can ride that baby anytime and the Skeet club he belonged to. Hell, she can shoot skeet just as well as the men. Oh yes. And she had their, uh, her therapy dogs all trained and ready to work. That would take up several days each week.

And so we meet the widow to see what she’s up to.

With high hopes, Joan dressed in Larry’s Harley jacket over his fancy club outfit. His suede jacket fit nicely over her pink cashmere sweater and jeans. Her body had a good shape for an older woman; Larry always said so, the jerk, and best of all, the women never came to the event because they weren’t shooters.

She zoomed into the parking lot causing a commotion right away and she removed Larry’s helmet, shook out her beautiful hair and knew she needed a smaller helmet. James Franklin, the president this year so strong and healthy said, “We were all so sad to lose Larry and of course we will reimburse his yearly dues.

“James, that’s not what I had in mind since I’m an excellent skeet shooter and want to continue.” The tall man nodded, his gray hair combed so smoothly back fell forward: “Joan, we don’t have a rule leaving women out of the club so you are welcome.”

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