Linda Keller walked over to a couple of her fellow moms, Evelyn Tolliver and Karen Jackson.  Their daughters were all friends and hung out together outside of the rink.  She noticed the other two moms glancing out to the rink as they talked. 

“Hi,” she said, joining the conversation, “what are we looking for?”

The figure skaters were having a meeting with the coaches, and wouldn’t be done for another fifteen minutes, so the moms were talking as they waited.  Meanwhile, the speed skaters were filtering onto the rink to warm up. 

“You’ll know in a minute,” Evelyn said with a little laugh. 

Linda looked out on the floor.  She recognized Timmy Jackson, Karen’s son, but none of the other boys stuck out. 

“The main event hasn’t arrived yet,” Karen said.  “I think he is still getting his skates on over in the skate room.”

As she said it, Scott Williams rolled out of the skate room. 

“Him?” Linda said, pointing toward the youth. 

“No.  That’s Scott,” Karen said, referencing the tall youth.  He was well over six feet, probably six-three, but the skates made him that much taller.  He was lean to the point of being skinny and had a shock of bushy blonde hair on top of his head.  He was also trying to grow in a mustache, but it was still sparse enough to be invisible more than a few feet away. 

A moment later another young man rolled out of the skate room and caught up with Scott. 

“There we go,” Evelyn said with a leer.  “The reason we come inside to pick up our kids,” she finished, nodding toward him. 

“That’s Nick Tower, right?” Linda said, recognizing him. 

“Mmm-hmm,” the other two women intoned at the same time. 

Two more of the moms came over and joined their group.

“Staring at Nick, are we?” Brigitte Johansson said.

“You know it,” Karen replied.

“He has been chasing my daughter Dagny since junior high…  I have to say, if he was chasing me, I wouldn’t run very fast,” Brigitte replied, laughing. 

Linda watched him starting to warm up, accelerating out of a turn with powerful strokes.  She admitted that he was a handsome young man.  “Just a boy” flashed in her mind for a moment, but as he rolled through the turn closest to the leering moms, she had to admit that calling him anything less than a man seemed inappropriate.  He stood a shade over six feet without the skates.  He had broad shoulders and muscular arms that ended in large hands.  The uniform they wore consisted of a shirt that stretched across his large frame, showing off his muscled back and chest.  The tight shorts made his large, powerful legs that much more striking, and she had to admit that she enjoyed the way they clung to his butt. 

“How old is he?” Linda asked.  “I mean we are grown women and he’s just a kid.”

“Don’t give me that, Linda.  I could see the way you looked at his ass when he skated by.  He might only have just turned seventeen, but he is bigger than my husband,” Brigitte said. 

Evelyn and Karen both laughed. 

“That isn’t what I meant… but maybe he is,” Brigitte replied before joining in their laughter.  A moment later, Linda laughed, too. 

“Linda,” Evelyn said with a sly grin, “we might all be married, but you’re single.  You could take him for a test drive and let us know if the steak is as nice as the sizzle.”

“Good grief, ladies, my daughter has a crush on him,” Linda said, shaking her head, but wearing a conspiratorial smile. 

“My daughter has a crush on Harrison Ford, but that wouldn’t stop me from giving him a twirl,” Tammy White said. 

“Your husband would stop you,” Karen said. 

“If he can have Pamela Anderson on his list, I can have Harrison Ford on mine,” she replied.  “Besides, I just like to look,” she finished as Nick flashed by their turn. 

Nick slowed up and was skating toward the snack bar.  He rolled past the moms, greeting them with a smile as he went behind the counter to get a crate of water bottles.  He picked the crate up and held it on his shoulder as he skated past the admiring mothers again and headed out onto the floor to hand them out. 

“Did you see that six-pack?” Evelyn said. 

“Hard not to,” Linda admitted.  “And yet, we all gladly let our daughters ride around with him…”

“He might look like a ferocious dog, but he’s really just a cuddly puppy,” Karen Jackson offered.  “He and Heather have been an item a few times, and she keeps telling me that he borders on too sweet.”

“Mary said the same thing.  But I tell you what.  If I got my hands on him… it might be a different story,” Evelyn Toliver said, “what about you, Linda?”

“He certainly is something to look at, but he’s still a kid.  A big, gorgeous kid,” she smiled.

The figure skaters emerged from the office.  Most of them headed straight for the doors, but a few saw their moms waiting in the snack bar and walked their way, skates hanging from their shoulders by the laces.  The moms all broke apart to go meet their daughters. 

“Hey, Kat, how was practice?” Linda asked. 

“Good, I was working on forms most of the time, but I got to do something else,” she said, her eyes lighting up as she got to the surprise. 

“What was that Honey?”

“The skating federation announced a new skate dancing competition, and Big George thinks he might be able to get some of the boys to partner up with us.  There aren’t lifts and they don’t have to do forms and the other boring stuff.”

“Well, that does sound cool,” Linda said, smiling. 

 “That wasn’t what was cool, Mom.  What was cool is that George had me demonstrate one of the dances.  I did a waltz with Nick Tower.”  Kat looked out on the floor as Nick whizzed by.  “He is a dream.  Heather was soooo mad.”

“So, he’s going to compete with you?”

“I wish.  I’m gonna work on him, though.”

Linda laughed.  She thought to herself that at least her daughter had good taste in boys. 

Amazon uses an algorithm to serve up every product you look at. Books are no different. And at the basis f their algorithm is one central quest… to make a sale. In the case of books, reviews are what make the sales. Not just gushing 5-star reviews, but real, honest reviews from readers that enjoyed the book.

And those are tough to come by. I have a couple hundred sales, some from people that emailed me to tell me that they enjoyed a particular book. And spread across five titles I have… 12 reviews.

And that’s the challenge.

Another aspect of reviews is the access to other promotional venues that they open up. Several of the sites I have used to promote a particular title have a minimum number of reviews required before promoting a book. That means I can’t promote some titles because of a low number of reviews.

It isn’t just me. I belong to several author groups on social media. Everyone that hasn’t crossed the threshold has the same problem. It’s like the crest of a hill. Hit the top, and things get easier. Momentum picks up. The road becomes easier.

In closing… if you have enjoyed a book, especially one by a new or unknown author, take a moment to give an honest review, whether it be somewhere like Goodreads or Amazon. Wherever it may be, the author will thank you.

If you enjoy my blog, feel free to subscribe. There is a little form near the top of the page on the right (on a computer… I’m not sure where it will be on your mobile device). There’s a free ebook in it for you. And if you like my writing, head over to Amazon and grab one. I might suggest Triple Cross, my newest, or Planning Vengeance, which is the entry point ot the Dixon-Prince series. Thank you.

“If you say so, Cory.  Where to?” she said, rising from her ergonomically designed chair after clicking through the procedures to turn off “Death Star,” her programming machine. 

“Since it is ten o’clock, choices for dinner are limited, but I have an idea.”

With a flourish, he strode from the room, leaving Jenny is his wake.  He was slipping his phone from the breast pocket of his tailored sport coat as he disappeared from view.  She gathered up her purse and slipped her faded denim jacket over her slender frame.  She pushed her glasses up her nose and rushed to catch him. 

Turning down the hall toward the building exit, she caught him just before he stepped through the security gate.  “Well?” she asked. 

“I just got off the phone with my friend, Jesse.  He is getting us a table at Midnight and they are setting us up with a full dinner.  VIP experience.”

“Midnight?  I thought we were going somewhere now…”

“Silly girl.  Midnight… that new restaurant and club?  The one EVERYONE wants to get into.  Mile long line.  Midnight.  But you DO need to change clothes.  We can hurry by your place and I’ll see if you have any clothes you could possibly wear.”

Again, with a flourish he turned and headed toward her car.  And again, she ran to catch up.  She half expected him to demand to drive, too. 

***

They sat on the dais that surrounded half of the dance floor.  The small table between them full of small dishes, the remnants of their dinner.  Away from the steps that led to the main level, there was a private buffet loaded with food samples.  Jesse had outdone himself.  Cory had asked for “something exotic” and he had provided a Middle Eastern extravaganza.  The portions were small, but there had been at least thirty different dishes to try…  They were both stuffed and had turned to watch the dance crowd which was rapidly accumulating beneath them. 

“Good grief,” Jenny said as she pointed out a woman standing on the far side of the bar.

“Seriously, just because they make it in her size doesn’t mean she has to buy it or wear it,” Cory said… his “Mean Girl” surfacing.

“I know, right?  And it was out of style twenty years ago, when it might have fit.”

“What about that guy, Jen?  He is ridiculously handsome,” Cory said, pointing out a tall, dark-haired man casually strolling over to the bar.  He turned and glanced their way and smiled. 

“Was that smile for you or me?” Jenny asked.

“Me… Has to be me.  There is NO way a man that well put together can be straight.  Sorry, Girlfriend,” Cory said, a smug look on his face. 

Over at the bar, the bartender handed him his drink and he left some cash on the bar as he flashed her a smile, before a leggy blonde sauntered up to him.  They couldn’t hear the conversation, but Cory started his own narration.  As she talked with him, she looked back across the bar, then gave him a pouty expression and walked away. 

Cory narrated both sides of the imagined conversation…  “Hi good-looking, my girlfriends have a table over there, want to join us?” he said in a falsetto voice. 

“Um, no.  I’m strictly dickly,” he replied, answering himself, using a deep voice.

“Ok, Mr. Taylor, she was hot enough that even a gay man would have been tempted.  Hell, I would be tempted,” Jenny interrupted. 

“You’re right, Jen.  I have to admit, I’d hit that… if only to find out where she got that dress.  And boy, did she wear it or what?  You need a dress like that.”

“Right.  What kind of fashion expert are you?  I’m a couple of numbers and letters short of filling that thing out,” she said, looking down at her “less-endowed” chest.  “What do you think… thirty-six, double D?”

“Seriously, Jen, you are a hot number.  Any guy… I mean ANY guy would be lucky to have you on his arm.  Combine that with the fact that you are brilliant and the second most wonderful person in the world, and you are a total package.”  He lightly put his hand over hers.  “We’ll get your sense of style fixed…”

“Second most wonderful?”

“Well… there is me,” Cory replied before getting up to trot off to the “little-boys room.” 

Jenny looked up again, but Ridiculously Handsome was gone from the bar.  She scanned around the room for a moment, expecting to see that he had decided to take up Miss Stacked on her offer, but she didn’t see him. 

Todd, Cory’s friend, stopped by and dropped off a couple more drinks.  As he set them down, he told her they were called arak, a Middle Eastern drink made from aniseed, and tasted similar to Ouzo.  That clears it up, she thought to herself, but smiled and took a sip.  She tasted licorice, presumably from the aniseed of the anise plant. 

“Wow, that is potent stuff,” she said out loud, coughing.

Todd threw back his like a shot and encouraged her to do the same.  She coughed again, and her eyes got big for a moment.  He took the glasses and told her he’d be back in a minute. 

As Cory rejoined her, Todd set down another couple of rounds and disappeared.  She and Cory moved their glance around the dance floor and the bar looking for others to watch and make up stories about as they tossed the remaining drinks back. 

“I need to visit the powder room,” Jenny said as she rose, slightly unsteadily.  “Whew, those araks are serious.”

“Are you going to be ok?” Cory asked her, also rising and finding that he wasn’t much steadier on her feet. 

“Just keep an eye on me, but I’ll be fine.”  She self-consciously pulled the hem of her short dress down and headed for the stairs.  Three careful steps down and she was on the dance floor, crossing toward the bathroom. 

She finished up and examined herself in the mirror as she washed her hands.  She pushed her cat-eye glasses up the bridge of her nose again and brushed back a few strands of hair.  She had to admit that the red dress Cory had pulled from the deep recesses of her closet looked rather good on her.  While she wished she had the curves of the blonde in that shimmery silver dress at the bar earlier, this one hugged her… more meager… curves and showed off her flat tummy and slender hips to their best effect.  The red made her pale skin… her mother insisted it was alabaster… really glow, in a good way.  And the heels really made her calves pop.  She smiled at her mirror-self, happy with the way she looked for the moment. 

She headed toward the door and gave it a pull, weaving back toward the dance floor and their VIP booth.  As she passed the bar, she slipped on something and stumbled, only to land in the arms of Ridiculously Handsome, who’d apparently resumed haunting the same spot at the bar while she was “in the loo.” 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she said profusely as he dabbed at the remains of his drink with a napkin he’d smoothly swept off the bar.

“No worries,” he said, smiling and supporting her with his free arm.

She struggled to get her feet under her again, between the embarrassment, the arak and the fluster, she had lost all coordination.  He set down the napkin and then, with both hands, lifted her and set her down on her feet. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?  I can walk you to your table?” 

And don’t forget, if you enjoy the stories you read here on the blog, you can pick up a FREE ebook, Escape, for signing up for the free newsletter. There are regular editions each week, highlighting the posts to the blog, as well as special mentions of sales, giveaways or new books coming out. The sign-up link is on the right side of the sidebar.

Excerpt from Gunny’s Mission I

Excerpt from Gunny’s Mission II

Excerpt from The Teacher I

Excerpt from The Teacher II

If you like reading about Gunny and his crew, check out the other Dixon-Prince series books, Planning Vengeance, Dig Two Graves, You Don’t Know Jack and Who, What, When, Why? on Amazon. All of them are available on Kindle Unlimited, or for purchase.