Posts tagged ‘NEW MOON RISING’
Some time ago I received a questionnaire from Book Buzzr, a marketing website I’m using to promote my novel, New Moon Rising. I thought I would share my answers to give you a closer look into who I am.
BOOK BUZZR
Could you tell us a little about yourself?
Now a retired scientist, I spent 34 years studying renal physiology.
I’m a Newark, New Jersey boy now living in West Chester, Pennsylvania, divorced with two outstanding daughters. One is a farmer working for the Rodale Institute and the other is pursing and MFA in fiction at Syracuse University.
Describe your book, New Moon Rising, in 30 words or less.
The novel is science fiction centered on the Ring of Fire. Think of the movie, Deep Impact, but in reverse.
What was the hardest part of writing this book?
Editing? I hate editing. The initial story just flowed. I went along with the characters and saw the action through their eyes. But when it came to editing the adventure was over, and I missed it.
What books had the greatest influence on you?
When I was in high school I read three books by Tom Dooley, a doctor who went to Laos, among other countries, to provide medical assistance. Of the three, the only title I can remember is The Night They Burned the Mountain.
His work was influential in establishing CARE.
What Dooley did to me I could never reverse. His words established in me the need for a sense of purpose, that you must strive to make a difference. Even at my advanced age, I cannot shake this mind-set.
Briefly share with us what you do to market your book.
Not enough. I have has one signing at a local bookstore which went quite well.
I am, of course on your site. I also have a blog, walttriznastories.wordpress.com, where I have discussed my novel and have provided links to my publisher, Melange Books, barns&noble.com and amazon.com., where my novel is available. But the primary purpose of my blog is to provide help for writers on the road to publication.
How do you spend your time when you are not writing?
I read a great deal, as most writers do. I firmly believe the basis for any writers desire to write begins with reading and the love for books. Of house and outside chores also require certain amount of time.
What are you working on next?
I have multiple short stories I am editing and hope to publish.
I also have two novels that are written and need to be edited and published.
The first, Sweet Depression, follows a corrupt high-level officer in a pharmaceutical company fulfilling his need for control and greed with devastating results. Think of a cross between novels written by James Patterson and Robin Cook.
The second novel, The Beast Awaits, combines illicit stem cell research creating a monster mindlessly intent on destroying our world.
October 7, 2016 at 9:24 pm
This coming Saturday, 2/14/15, I will be joining a group of local writers at the Atglen Public Library in Atglen, PA. The address for the library is 413 Valley Ave., Atglen, PA and will be from 12PM – 3PM.
I will be signing my novel, New Moon Rising, along with two anthologies, Curious Hearts and Spellbound 2011, where my stories appear. For those on a tight budget, I will also be giving away my short story, The Gig of a Lifetime, published in Toasted Cheese Literary Journal.
Come meet the authors and perhaps buy a book.
See you Saturday.
February 10, 2015 at 7:02 pm
Continued as promised…
Okay, sit back from the edge of your seats.
Here’s some hints as to who the character is and the reward I’m offering.
First, as you all know by now, I have a profound love for books. In New Moon Rising the character shares the same love and, in the story, is on my dream vacation. What’s his name?
As for the prize, it is twofold. Now you’re back to edge of your seats again. I can feel it.
First, you will receive a signed copy of my e-book, Elmo’s Sojourn, mailed to you as a printout. Also, you will receive a copy of my, as yet, unpublished manuscript, Elmo’s Invention, which is a prequel to the e-book.
That’s it, my friends. I’ll alert Amazon to expect the rush to buy my novel.
Good luck!
To ease your buying enjoyment, here’s a link to my work for sale by Amazon.
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=walt+trizna
September 22, 2014 at 8:27 pm
Need that book for the beach you won’t be able to put down?
Give New Moon Rising a try!
Here’s a taste.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pasadena
A phone ringing in the early morning hours is seldom a harbinger of good news. When Wade’s phone rang at two thirty-five in the morning, he came out of a peaceful sleep and with dread, reached for the receiver.
“Wade, this is Jeff at the lab.” The excitement in the young graduate student’s voice spoke of disaster before he revealed the reason for his early morning call. “It may have started. We have seismic activity along the whole Hawaiian chain. We have earthquake activity measuring 8.6 on the Richter scale. It’s the strangest earthquake, associated with the islands, anyone here has seen. The earthquake occurred at 4:20PM Hawaiian time. We cannot pinpoint the origin. It’s a series of earthquakes occurring simultaneously beneath the whole island chain. There have already been reports of tsunamis from Midway Island, the Marshall Islands, and the Samoan Islands. New Zealand, Australia, Central America, and China are all bracing for a giant wave. No one knows if the tsunami will be as bad as 2004.”
Jeff responded, “This is amazing! Earthquakes like this have never been described before. No one will know what to expect.”
“Jeff, try to calm down. Juliet and I will be at the lab as soon as we can.
Have the proper authorities been notified?”
“Are you kidding? Every lab in the world recorded this event. Damage reports are already coming in from Hawaii and the damage is widespread.”
“We are also getting signs of volcanic activity around the dormant volcano you instrumented on the island of Hawaii. There have been reports of ash spewing from several volcanoes on some of the islands that haven’t had activity for hundreds, or in some cases, thousands of years.
Wade’s thoughts instantly went to Foster on Oahu. “Is there any report of activity of Oahu?”
“Koolau volcano on Oahu is reported to be putting out ash and smoke.” Wade finished by saying, “We’re on our way, Jeff.”
Wade tried to control his own emotions as he turned toward Juliet. She had propped up her pillow and was listening to the conversation. Just from hearing Wade’s end, she knew that the news was not good.
With fear in his voice, he said, “It looks like it’s begun.” He went on to tell her all that he knew from Jeff as they hurriedly dressed and set out for the lab.
As they approached the Geology Building, every window was illuminated. Wade noticed that the parking lot was already half full as they pulled into his
organized and assigned specific tasks.
A group was told to keep track of earthquake damage and aftershocks. Another was told to track tsunamis, and a third group was told to monitor the Hawaiian Islands for volcanic activity. Constant contact was established with labs in Australia, New Zealand and their colleagues in Japan. There was an attempt made to contact the lab in Hilo at the University of Hawaii—but the lines were out.
With all the phones and computers manned, order began to emerge from the chaos. Wade had a chance to inspect the seismic tracings from the earthquake beneath the Hawaiian Islands. They represented not a single quake, but a long series of overlapping quakes. The location was difficult to determine. The earthquakes occurred at a series of points beneath the Pacific Ocean surrounding the Hawaiian Islands. The character of these quakes fit into the scenario along with the other events that occurred, supporting Professor Humphries’ theory. They were unprecedented in modern time.
Wade stood in the lab, holding the tracings, and wondered about his brother and all the rest of the population of Hawaii, people in love with their paradise. So in love were the residents, that it may have cost countless lives to enjoy heaven on Earth just a little longer.
* * * *
Oahu
Foster continued to work at the surf shop and Heather at the bed and breakfast although each had little to do. Heather took her baby to work with her and found time to feed and care for him while she accomplished her tasks. The working conditions were ideal for caring for the baby. In fact, Lulu gave him so much attention, that if it weren’t for the fact Heather was breast-feeding; he would need no care at all.
Although life went on, there was a pall hanging over the islands knowing that its days might be numbered. Foster had become close friends with most of the surfers who congregated on the beach and shopped at the store. A few that were originally from the mainland returned home but all the native surfers chose to stay. For the most part, they were young men who loved the surf and sun and little else. When asked about their future, almost to a man, they talked about quality of life—not quantity.
Foster was working behind the counter one day while Joe was grabbing some lunch when his friend Rich Loana entered the shop.
“What can I do for you, Rich?”
“Just wanted to see if you’d be interested in doing some surfing later this afternoon. The waves are supposed to be great today.”
“I should be able to get away around four. I’ll meet you on the beach in back of the shop.”
“Sounds like a plan, Foster. I’ll see you then.”
After Rich left, Foster thought about a conversation he had with Rich months earlier, when the news of what might happen to Hawaii was released.
He had had similar conversations with a lot of the surfers he had gotten to know. One conversation with Rich stuck in his mind.
He’d asked Rich, “What will you do now, Rich?” “What do you mean—I’m going to surf.”
“No, you know what I’m talking about. When are you leaving?” “I’m not.”
“You can’t stay here, it’s not safe.”
“Listen Foster, I was born on this island, it’s my home, the only place I’ve ever lived. And surfing is the only thing I know how to do. I don’t have an education. I don’t have a skill. If I moved to the mainland, what would I do? I’d be a bum the rest of my life. I’m a bum here, but at least I have a chance to do what I love. If this theory is wrong – no harm done. If its right, I’ll be doing what I love doing right to the end.”
Foster found that most of the native-born Hawaiian surfers he talked to had a similar attitude. They were determined to embrace their ‘hang loose’ attitude of life right to the end.
* * * *
Traffic through the shop was light, had been for months. Three-thirty arrived and Foster told Joe he was thinking of riding some waves until Heather came home. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle this crowd all alone,” Joe said as he looked around the empty store. “Go ahead; get your butt on the beach.”
Foster got a couple good rides before Rich showed up. They rode together for a while until Rich caught a wave that Foster missed. Foster paddled back out to deeper water turned toward the beach and was preparing to get up on his board
It was 4:20.
He could see Rich on the beach taking a breather, when his friend suddenly fell to the sand. Foster thought to himself, “What the hell is he doing now?” Then he noticed branches falling from the palm trees. In quick succession, the roof of the shop caved in leaving a pile of rubble where the shop and apartment had been. He quickly paddled to shore, and as soon as his feet made contact with the sand, he fell to his knees in the shallow water. He looked up and down the beach and the few people still standing were holding onto a tree or other stabilizing object with looks of shock and disbelief on their faces.
The trembling lasted minutes, but it seemed like hours. Time slowed as the Earth shook. The violent shaking subsided, settling down to series of lesser and lesser ripples of movement. Foster ran around front and found Joe sitting on the grass clutching a blood-soaked towel to his head.
“Is this what we’ve been waiting for?” asked Joe. Foster pointed to the south. “What’s that Joe, a fire?” “If it is, it’s one hell of a fire.”
Then they noticed pillars of smoke dotting the horizon.
“I think some of our dead volcanoes have come to life. Come on, we need to get to the B&B. Although the trembling had ceased, the trembling of both
men had not. A mixture of adrenaline, fear, and awe fed emotions waiting for months to be released. Both men knew in their hearts THIS WAS IT.
They hopped into Joe’s jeep and began the short drive to the bed and breakfast. A drive that should have taken minutes, took nearly an hour. The narrow road was littered with tree branches and debris from collapsed buildings and clogged with people walking, stumbling in a state of shock, and not knowing where to go or what to do. Screams could be heard from some of the partially collapsed structures, but for now, aid was nonexistent.
Joe could see the column of smoke issuing to the sky before his business came into view. As they turned the last bend in the road, there stood the B&B, or at least what was left of it, engulfed in flames. The men felt relief when they saw Lulu and Heather standing in the parking lot holding the baby. Their clothes were torn and they were both covered in soot, but they were safe.
They parked the jeep a safe distance from the fire and approached the women. Lulu was in hysterics, sobbing and could not be consoled.
“Thank God you’re all safe. It’s only a building,” Joe said as he embraced his frantic wife.
All Lulu could say over and over was, “Oh no, no, no.”
Foster noticed Heather was also crying. He hugged her and his son. Through choked-back tears, she explained what had happened. “Lulu and I were in the kitchen. Thank God we had the baby with us. We were preparing tomorrow’s breakfast when everything began to shake. Things fell off the shelves and the ceiling started coming down. We made it out just in time before the whole place came crashing down and began to burn.”
Lulu stood listening, clutching herself and moaning.
“A few hours ago we had the first guests we’ve had in a long time check in, a young couple from California, along with their five year old son. They went upstairs to get some rest before they began their tour of the island. They never came out.”
They all watched the burning structure as it caved in further. As the flames singed the nearby palms, they knew it was also a funeral pyre. Both women sobbed as the men stood helpless. Oahu and the rest of the Hawaiian Islands were also helpless, caught in the grasp of a power that was no longer a theory.
Here’s where you can buy it.
Thanks.
http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/triznanewmoonrising.html
July 4, 2014 at 8:36 pm
An underwater volcano off the Japanese coast has just risen up and formed an island. The second island the Ring of Fire has created through volcanic activity in just weeks. The Ring of Fire is active once again.
In my novel, New Moon Rising, unknown volcanoes on the ocean’s floor build on their eruptions and make their way to the surface forming islands, unleashing massive destruction.
Volcanic and seismic activity leads the world to an event unparalleled in geologic history.
New Moon Rising is also a love story between two brothers caught up in the maelstrom and the women in their lives. Finally, the story is the love of a Hawaiian and his land, a land he refuses to leave no matter what the consequences.
Read New Moon Rising and see the future?
http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/index.html
Also available on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com.
November 22, 2013 at 6:32 pm
My consistent readers,
Here’s an opportunity to win a free copy of my novel, New Moon Rising.
The giveaway is being conducted by Goodreads, an excellent website for both readers and writers.
My next piece will go into greater detail about Goodreads, but for now, I thought some of you might be interested in giving this a shot.
Here are links to my free book plus a host of others.
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/tag/science-fiction?page=4
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11458848-new-moon-rising
October 7, 2013 at 11:29 pm
You have read what I have to say about writing and what characteristics, I think, a writer must have to be successful. What is the meaning of success?
The meaning of success, to me, is the ability to put coherent thoughts on a blank page which will strike a chord with a fellow human being. In some small way I consider myself to be successful. The response I receive for some of the pieces I post on my blog talk to that end.
Recently I have had new readers begin to follow my blog. I welcome them along with other readers that have found interest in what I have to say. I consider you all my friends and hope you find what I have to say interesting and informative.
For those new to my blog, you can find advice on writing and reading along with short stories that have been published and both published and unpublished poetry.
I am also providing a link to my publisher, Melange Books, where you can purchase my novel, New Moon Rising.
Once again, welcome to my new friends.
http://www.melange-books.com/authors/walttrizna/triznanewmoonrising.html
September 15, 2013 at 9:13 pm
This is a sample of the destruction leading up to the ultimate event.
Chapter Ten
Joe Sparks had drawn night duty on the bridge of the Clementine. He enjoyed the solitude of the darkened bridge, the tropical breeze soft and gentle and the total lack of passengers. Joe was not a ‘people person’ and the fact that the ship carried passengers in addition to cargo irritated him to no end. He knew Captain Roberts, a good man and captain of the Clementine. Joe had served with him on other vessels and he was a man to be trusted. Roberts knew the ocean, was a good sailor and a fair boss. When Joe heard Roberts was commanding the Clementine, he signed up. This was Joe’s first voyage on the ship, and when he arrived dockside, he couldn’t believe the line of civilians filing aboard. His love of working with Roberts was greater than his distaste for the passengers. He immediately signed up for night bridge duty.
The ship basically sailed itself. All Joe needed to do was monitor the course and make sure the autopilot was doing its job. Other than that, along with handling the occasional minor malfunction, Joe spent most of his time drinking coffee and reading. The only other person on the bridge was the radar operator. His presence in these waters was just to fulfill regulations. There were no landmasses for hundreds of miles and they were sailing far from the well-traveled shipping lanes of the Pacific.
Not prepared to see anything on his scope, he was surprised to pick up a reading a few miles away. “Joe, I don’t understand it, I’ve got a reading ten miles off the starboard bow. It appears to be land but there shouldn’t be any land out there.” Just as the radar operator began to speak, Joe noticed a glow on the ocean’s surface in the same direction.
“I’d better call the captain on this one.
* * * *
On deck, George and Emily strolled along the starboard side of the ship. With dinner finished, they decided to walk for a while on deck before retiring for the night. Emily gave George’s hand a squeeze. “I know how much you wanted a home near the ocean. I also know what a sacrifice it was to see that the girls were educated. I’m proud of our girls and I’m proud of what you’ve done for them.”
George held Emily’s hand and was about to respond when he noticed a light off in the distance. “That’s strange. I thought we weren’t near any land. That’s too bright to be another ship.”
At the same time George was pointing out the unusual glow to Emily, Captain Roberts entered the bridge and joined Sparks. The freighter’s course had taken it to within a few miles of the new volcano. Roberts was about to reach for the binoculars when the glow went dim. No one on board the Clementine knew they had but moments to live.
On deck George too saw the glow go faint. He was holding Emily’s hand and about to tell her, “I love you”, but the words never came.
The cone of the volcano exploded with a deafening roar. A massive wall of ash and super-heated gases bore down on the Clementine. A fraction of a second after the sound of the explosion reached the Clementine; she was engulfed in the deadly cloud. Anything on deck that was combustible burst into flame – deckchairs, lifeboats and human flesh were incinerated. Debris broke the windows of the bridge, and then everything and everyone on the bridge were consumed in a holocaust. Those below deck survived a second or two longer, but soon the Clementine was transformed into a floating funeral pyre. The inferno reached the ship’s fuel tanks and the Clementine was no more.
April 29, 2013 at 5:46 pm
Chapter Three
Santa Monica
Foster awoke and gazed into the captivating face of the woman sleeping next to him, partially obscured by long tousled blond hair. His eyes went from the small up-turned nose to her full lips he gently kissed while she slept. They were both naked and had spent the night making love in his tiny Santa Monica apartment. He let his eyes wander the length of her body, the small firm breasts down to the tangled triangle of blond hair to the long legs and delicate feet. She began to stir. He continued to appreciate her body as she awoke.
“How’s my surfer stud?” she mumbled.
* * * *
After high school, Foster made his way down to the Los Angeles area, found an apartment, a real dive in Culver City, and began looking for a job. He checked out the trendy restaurants in Westwood and landed a job as busboy. Eventually he moved up to the wait staff. Easily making friends, he immediately became popular with his coworkers, going out for beers after work and organizing trips to the beach on days off. A career in the restaurant industry was not his plan. The truth was, he had no plan. He just figured he would enjoy southern California and see where life took him. Most of his fellow employees had definite plans. Most of them were ‘really actors’ working at the restaurant until their big break arrived. Foster thought to himself, “I may not have a plan, but at least I’m realistic.” Slowly, he worked his way up to one of the better restaurants where the fare was expensive and the tips good. Along the way, at every establishment, would-be actors and surrounded him.
After closing time one Friday night in June, Foster was wrapping things up and preparing the tables for tomorrow’s opening when Ted, one of his waiter friends walked over to him. “Hey Foster, want to go try some surfing tomorrow at Malibu Beach?” Ted asked. “You already have the looks of a surfer; with a board under your arm the chicks will cream their wet suits.”
“Tell me, Ted,” Foster joked, “can you surf or do you just act like a surfer, every pun intended?”
“Hey dude, come out tomorrow and see for yourself. Meet me at the entrance to Malibu Pier at ten.”
“Okay, Ted, see you tomorrow.”
Ted had borrowed a wet suit for Foster. The southern California waters were usually cold and surfing without a wet suit would be agony. Ted surfed for a while, then came in and gave Foster a few pointers and let him give it a try.
After continuously falling off the board, Foster finally got in a ride. He was hooked. For the next few months, he met Ted every Saturday morning to surf. He bought a used board and wet suit and surfed every chance he had days off, weekends and holidays would find him at the beach. He soon passed Ted in his surfing abilities, which didn’t take much, and became a member of the Malibu surfing crowd. To be closer to the ocean, he found a small apartment in Santa Monica. It was actually a makeshift apartment. The woman living on the second floor owned the apartment; the first floor was once two apartments, now there were four. With the addition of some walls and minuscule bathrooms, the owner’s income increased. Foster doubted if what she had done was up to code, but it offered him a cheap place near the ocean, so he signed the lease.
One Saturday morning, the owner of a local surf shop approached Foster. “Hey man, I’ve been watching you surf. You’re awesome dude! Would you be interested in working at my shop and giving some private lessons?”
For some time now, his waiter’s job was getting in the way of his new love—surfing. This offer was a dream come true.
“How much you paying?”
“Can’t pay much more than minimum wage at the store, but you can really score on the lessons.”
“Let me think about it. I’ll give you a call.”
The men exchanged phone numbers and Foster left for home. By the time he reached his apartment his mind was made up. He called the restaurant and quit. He knew this was an impulsive move. He was making good money but saw no future for himself as a waiter. In his mind he saw himself jumping from one job with no future that he hated, to another job with no future that he would love. He called the owner of the shop and said he’d take the job.
“Welcome aboard, see you Monday at nine.”
Foster learned a lot about the boards he was selling, and with a generous employee’s discount, was able to buy a real beauty. If he was going to teach he figured he should have the best equipment.
The local rich clientele, long on money and short on ability, began to seek out Foster for lessons, resulting in more time in the ocean than behind the counter. This suited him fine, more ocean time and a bigger paycheck.
Foster was opening up the shop on a Tuesday morning when a little red Mercedes convertible pulled into the lot. Behind the wheel sat a stunningly beautiful blond in her mid twenties. As she made her way to the counter, Foster noticed that her outfit of halter-top and cut-off jeans left little to the imagination. “ I saw your sign in the window for surfing lessons. Where’s the instructor?”
“You’re talking to him. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Heather Bonner and I’m just dying to learn to surf. My family is new to the area. We just moved from Colorado. I wanted to spend a lot of time at the beach and get some exercise too. So I thought, why not surf?”
Heather admired the young man behind the counter. He was tall, slim, with the wide shoulders of an athlete. His deeply tanned face and sun-bleached hair spoke of hours spent outdoors.
“We can start lessons tomorrow at one,” Foster suggested.
“Sounds great,” said Heather. “I need a board and wet suit and whatever else you can think of.”
Foster spent the next hour going over the qualities of various styles of surfboards and equipped Heather with all she would need.
“Since you’ll be taking lessons here, you can store your stuff in back. See you tomorrow.”
Foster appreciated her firm little butt as she left the store. Things were looking up.
* * * *
Heather was something less than a natural when it came to surfing. Foster thanked the surfer gods and knew it would take a few lessons to get Heather standing on the board and riding the southern California waves. Unless a storm was off the coast, the waves were good but not the best, affording perfect conditions to learn to surf.
Slight body contact was needed between instructor and student during the lessons. Foster found himself making contact as much as possible and Heather didn’t seem to mind. During weekdays the beach was practically deserted. They had privacy and a chance to get to know each other. They usually sat on the sand to rest after a lesson and Heather would tell Foster about her family.
“Dad’s an investment banker. When we moved here we bought a house in the Pacific Palisades. Mom’s mostly bored. Her major occupation is trying to establish herself in the Pacific Palisades social set. My younger sister, Nancy, goes to a private high school and when she’s not at school she’s spending money.”
Foster also learned that Heather had an apartment in Westwood and was planning to enter graduate school at UCLA sometime in the future and study art.
Heather had learned about Foster’s family during their conversations, they all seemed so motivated. “So what are your plans Foster?”
“Work at the shop and teach surfing.”
“No, after that.”
“I haven’t given it much thought.”
* * * *
Heather’s big day finally arrived; she had an awesome ride.
“I guess you just graduated,” Foster said as she made her way through the surf to the sand where he stood.
Heather put down her board walked up to Foster and gave him a hug. “Thanks for being such a great teacher.” The hug was followed by a lingering kiss. Heather could feel Foster’s response through her suit.
“Let’s celebrate!”
“Can’t, have to work till five.”
“Tell you what. I’ll meet you at your apartment about seven.”
“That’d be great.” Foster wrote down his address, phone number for her, and went back to work.
“What’s that stupid grin for?” asked his boss as Foster entered the shop.
“I think the surfer gods are smiling on me,” replied Foster.
* * * *
As Foster drove down his street, he could see Heather’s car parked near his apartment building. “Can I have a YES,” whispered Foster.
Foster drove Heather to one of the local seafood restaurants near Santa Monica Pier. After dinner, they walked down to the pier to watch the kids on the amusement rides. The end of the pier was the territory of fishermen. In the darkness, a few men stood watch over their poles, waiting for a school of mackerel to happen by. But for now, their lines rocked gently back and forth with the motion of the waves.
Foster did not want this moment to end. Taking Heather’s hand, he said, “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”
Hand in hand, they left the fishermen to their night’s work, walked past the kids on the merry-go-round and stepped onto the wide expanse of sand. Removing their shoes, they walked south away from the lights of the pier into the darkness. After a while, they stopped to gaze out at the ocean. Heather put her head on Foster’s shoulder and sighed, “It’s such a beautiful night. I wish it would never end.”
She then turned to Foster, looked for a moment into his eyes and they kissed, and then kissed again. They lingered at the water’s edge a while longer then headed back past the pier to Foster’s pickup.
While they were walking, Heather asked, “So Foster, come here often with dates?”
“Don’t date much.”
This was the response she wanted to hear. When they arrived back at Foster’s apartment, he opened the door and helped Heather out of his old Toyota pickup. As she walked to her car, Foster hollered, “Guess I’ll see you around.” The disappointment in his voice was obvious and caused Heather to smile. A smile he couldn’t see.
She walked over to her car, opened the trunk and retrieved a small case. She turned and held it up. “Overnight bag.”
Now it was Foster’s turn to smile.
April 28, 2013 at 7:59 pm
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