Karaoke at the Tumbleweed

BOOK: Karaoke at the Tumbleweed
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Karaoke at The Tumbleweed

ISBN #
978-1-906328-79-5

©Copyright Carol Lynne 2008

Cover Art by Lynne Taylor ©Copyright January 2008

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Total-e-bound books

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks.

 

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-e-bound eBooks.  Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution

 

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork

 

Published in 2007 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

 

Warning:

 

Warning: 
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.  This story has been rated
Total-e-burning
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

KARAOKE AT THE TUMBLEWEED

 

 

Carol Lynne

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To my sisters and cousins, who gave me the idea of writing a book with an imperfect heroine. And to all of you who have tried to appear sexy only to fall on your face,

or stick your butt to the counter.

 

 

Trademarks Acknowledgement

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

 

Chevette:   Chevrolet General Motors Corporation

Old Spice:   Procter & Gamble

Diet Rite:   Royal Crown Company, Inc.

Lycra:   INVISTA LLC

Suave Shampoo:  UNILEVER SUPPLY CHAIN, INC. CORPORATION

 Old Milwaukee:   Stroh Brewery Company

 Harley Davidson:   H-D Michigan, Inc.

 Doritos:    Frito-Lay North America, Inc.

 Cadillac:    General Motors Corporation

 Wild Turkey:   Austin, Nichols & Company, Inc.

 Kool-Aid:    KRAFT GENERAL FOODS, INC.

 Cool Whip:    KRAFT GENERAL FOODS, INC.

 Vaseline:    Chesebrough-Pond's Inc.

 NASCAR:    National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, Inc.

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

 

Standing on stage looking out at the audience, Nicole Ashford wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. It was her one moment to make something of herself. This was it, the performance she’d practiced for day after day. When the music started, Nicole took a deep breath and began the poignant country ballad she’d struggled with for weeks. Once she started singing, the crowd faded and she immersed herself in the song.

 

Tag stood mesmerised listening to the angelic voice envelope the crowd. His eyes strayed to the stage as he let the music fill his heart. He wasn’t sure of the angel’s name but he knew he’d never find a more beautiful woman. The stage lights bounced off her waist length auburn hair, creating a red haloed affect around the sexiest body in the country. The skin-tight blue jeans and fringed western-style half-shirt looked good on her. Tag however, was more interested in imagining her naked and underneath him. He noticed the small gold hoop in her belly button and his tongue throbbed with the need to taste.

He was so lost in the song that Wendy Jean had to literally shake him to get his attention. He looked at the blonde woman with an irritated scowl. “What? Can’t you see I’m listening to the song?”

Rolling her eyes, Wendy Jean popped her gum and put her hand on her hip. “Listen all you want sugar, but get me three draws and an order of nachos while you’re at it.”

Pushing himself away from the bar, Tag filled three icy mugs with beer and set them on Wendy Jean’s tray. He reached into the large box of stale tortilla chips and withdrew two large handfuls and put them in a paper-lined plastic basket. Still listening to the angel on stage, Tag filled a small plastic cup with bright orange canned cheese sauce and placed it in the basket. Putting the basket on Wendy Jean’s tray he turned his attention back to the song.

Being new in town, he didn’t know many people and that was fine by him. Some said he was in the wrong line of work for someone so closed off from the rest of humanity but that’s the way Tag liked it. He’d served his government for fourteen years before taking a piece of shrapnel in the thigh. This was Tag’s first real month of freedom since the age of eighteen when he’d walked into the Marine recruiting office.

As he lost himself once again in the song, Tag knew he needed to know the woman attached to that voice. He’d never been surer of anything in his life. She’d only been on stage for about three minutes and already his jeans were feeling too tight in the crotch. A woman who could make him feel lust again after a four-year period of non-interest, was a special woman indeed.

The song ended and Tag knew he’d finally learn the angel’s name. He waited for Bobby Jim’s announcement with bated breath.

“That was Delta Dawn by Ulrich’s very own Skeeter Ashford folks.”

The beauty on stage turned and put her hands on her hips. “Dammit, Bobby Jim. You know I hate that name.”

“Sorry. Um… Nicole Ashford folks. Let’s give Nicole a round of applause.”

Clapping, Tag smiled at the little spit-fire. She may look and sing like an angel but she had a little of the devil in her blood. Just the kind of woman he liked best. He watched her step off the stage and walk over to join a group of men and women by the dartboard.

Motioning for Wendy Jean, Tag finally got her attention. She walked up to the bar popping her gum as usual. “What do you need, sugar?”

“What’s Nicole Ashford drinking? I’d like to buy her a drink.”

Raising one eyebrow, Wendy Jean lowered her tray. She leaned slightly over the bar and looked Tag in the eye. “Skeeter drinks whiskey straight up. But it won’t do you any good to buy her one. She’ll probably send it right back. She has no use for men since Lonnie Banks left town three years ago.” She leaned a little closer, “I heard he took off in a hurry under mysterious circumstances. Skeeter won’t even mention his name and if anyone else does she’s damn quick to leave the room.”

Winking at the waitress, Tag filled a glass with a double shot of whiskey. “Give it a try will ya? Tell her it’s from a man who appreciates her singing.”

Blowing out a loud breath, Wendy Jean rolled her eyes and took the glass. “It’s your money sugar.”

Tag followed Wendy Jean with his eyes as she weaved through the crowd to the back corner of the bar. He watched as she handed the glass to Nicole and pointed toward him. Tag smiled and gave a slight wave. Nicole looked at him for what seemed like an eternity and handed the glass back.

“Damn,” Tag said to himself. When Wendy Jean came back to the bar with the ‘I told you so’ face on, Tag took the glass from her.

“She said thanks but she’s not drinking any more tonight.”

Looking at the clock, Tag saw it was time for his short ten-minute break. “Do me a favour and get Bobby Jim to spell me. It’s time for my break.” Tag didn’t wait for Wendy Jean to reply. He picked up the glass of whiskey and headed toward his angel.

 

Nicole nervously eyed the hot bartender coming toward her. She’d first noticed him when she’d come in tonight. It wasn’t every day the small town of Ulrich got a new citizen. She’d heard about the new stud at the Tumbleweed last week but practice and the store had kept her busy. Yep. He was everything her girlfriend Twila told her he was. Midnight black shoulder length hair and the body of a Greek god. Damn, why did he have to notice her? She’d been celibate since Lonnie ran out so why did her body take notice of a man now. And why this man? He looked dangerous as he wove his way through the rowdy crowd.

She knew she was in trouble the second she spotted those tattooed biceps. Nicole was a sucker for tattoos. Funny thing though. Most of the backward men in Ulrich had tattoos and they didn’t do a thing for her. But this man was different somehow. Her pussy started to tingle when he finally stood close enough for her to get a whiff of his aftershave. Old Spice. Damn she was a sucker for that too. Not enough men wore it nowadays. Most men preferred the expensive cologne you bought in the city at the big fancy department stores, but not Nicole. Nope. She preferred the scent of Old Spice.

Looking up into the stranger’s eyes, she felt like she’d been knocked on her ass. Blue, the bluest eyes she’d ever seen stared into her green ones. Suddenly all the moisture left in her mouth went straight down to her pussy.

The stranger gave her a half-grin as he held the glass of whiskey out. “Name’s Brian Taggert but everyone calls me Tag. Wendy Jean said you weren’t drinking tonight but I thought I’d give you a second chance. If you’re worried about driving home, don’t. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

Licking her lips, Nicole couldn’t help but to return the grin. The dimples in his tanned chiselled face begged for her tongue. “Thanks, Tag, but I have to get up early to open the store. I’m not much good after a night of drinking whiskey.”

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