It Takes a Thief by Dellani Oakes

Jason Banes is a thief, a fact he freely admits. What he isn't, is a murderer. Unfortunately, when a job goes horribly wrong, he's arrested and on trial for robbery—and the murder of six innocent hostages. At first, he's reluctant to admit he had an accomplice, but eventually he tells the judge he was a victim as well. The perpetrator is a cold-hearted woman known only as Orchid. When the victims' families stand up for him, Jason is released into the custody of Special Agent in Charge Taylor Driscole, who heads up a team of FBI agents. Their job? To protect Jason and help him find Orchid before she strikes again.

Below is an excerpt from It Takes a Thief, a romantic suspense novel.

"How the hell did you get all that? When?" Taylor grabbed her lipgloss possessively.

"Moments ago. Don't worry, I'd never keep it." He blew her a kiss. "Not my color."

She swatted him, laughing.

"Handy tricks," Tim said. "What else can you do?"

"This stuff's easy," Jason said. "You should see me play cards." He winked. "Never, ever play a serious game of poker with me. I'll wipe you all out. I play for fun and to see what I can get away with. I'll show you what to look for."

They practiced another hour or so, but didn't make nearly the progress Jason wanted with his left hand.

"I'll get you back here with Lloyd," Tim said. "He's left handed and can give you some pointers. We'll set something up for later this week. Meanwhile, let's police the area. Leave it like we found it!"

They set up fresh targets, put away the safety gear and stowed everything where it had come from.

Greg took out the garbage and the rest of them cleaned up inside until the facility was as perfect as it had been before they used it.

"Thank you," Jason said, shaking Tim's hand. "I feel much better. Won't feel perfect until we catch Orchid, but at least I feel less of a target. Can I leave a note for your brother?"

"Sure." He found paper and a pen for Jason.

The was far longer than Tim anticipated. Glancing at it over Jason's shoulder, he laughed. The writing was tiny, precise and perfectly lined, although it was typing paper.

"What's all this?"

"He's got some security issues. I made a few suggestions. His safe for one. I could get through it with a pair of nail clippers and a set of tweezers."

Tim laughed, shaking his head. "You're kidding!"

"Serious. I'd open it, but that'd be bad manners."

"I'm not sure how much he'll appreciate this," Tim said glumly.

"He'll appreciate it. Might piss him off a bit, but I'll bet he fixes it up. Leave it in the cash register." He thumped it with his fist and the drawer popped open. "That's number two after the safe." He winked, strutting after Greg to the SUV. He hopped in the back and Alex slid in after him

"Cocky, English bastard," Tim said, laughing. He put the note to his brother in the cash register and closed the drawer. "Wonder if I should warn him that it's there?" He asked Taylor

"It will make more impact if he sees it on his own," she replied.

"Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."

They talked about their day as they drove back to Jason's house by a different route. It took longer than Jason anticipated, but he figured Tim was mixing it up some in case they were being followed.

There were more vehicles in his driveway and several people moved around looking important. They were armed technicians, checking his house. Instead of staying around in their way, he and the team went upstairs. There too, they found a great deal of activity.

"Fancy a game of bowling?" Jason asked casually. "Gets us out of the way. Or perhaps some poker?"

"I want to learn how to lift Taylor's lipgloss," Greg said with a chuckle.

"Got to find it first," she said with a smirk. "I moved it."

"Yeah?" Jason said. "Nice spot. Easy." He held it up again.

Taylor snatched at it, face flushing as she tried not to laugh. "Oh, you bad man! How did you know?"

"Women have a tendency to use purses, pockets or bras. You're not carrying a purse, it wasn't in your pocket...." He smirked, handing it back to her. "I prefer that hiding place," he said, eyeing her chest. "More of a challenge."

"I should beat you for that," she snarled. However, she couldn't hide her smile.

"You could do. But I might enjoy it."

"Enough!" Greg said loudly. "Forget I said anything."

He was angry, jealous and the exchange had made him realize once more how attracted he still was to Taylor himself. He'd been that close to her breasts once or twice, but not lately.

"Sorry, mate. I forget there's other blokes as hard up as me." He winked at Greg.

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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I Love Dialogue - Meet Big Earl from Bet on Love by Dellani

I recently had the lovely Danielle Zwissler on Dellani's Tea Time. We were talking about naming characters and she said she'd never named one after her husband, because he claimed that Earl wasn't a sexy name and all characters named Earl were always dumb, rednecks. So, of course, to refute that, I told her about my character, Earl Duchamps. He calls himself Big Earl – and he is both physically and in personality. He's also very intelligent, though he likes to act like a dumb redneck when it suits him. He's also dead sexy.

Gina is involved with Earl's cousin, Zane. When Earl finds out that Zane is a suspect in his ex-wife's murder, he drops everything and flies down with a lawyer in tow.

Even if she hadn't known, she'd have been able to tell that Earl was kin to Zane. Slightly shorter and stockier, he was nearly identical in looks. He had the same dark, wavy hair, penetrating eyes and smokin' hot good looks of his cousin. Had she not already fallen for Zane, she would have found him completely irresistible.

The man with him was considerably older. Tall, lean and tanned, he looked more like a rancher than a lawyer. His close cropped hair was steely gray, his eyes virtually the same color. Whereas Earl was dressed in relaxed fit blue jeans, boots and a T-shirt, the older man was dressed in a dark three piece suit and tie. He looked like he had just stepped out of Neiman – Marcus.

Gina waved when she got to the top of the escalator, smiling as she walked over. Earl was up in a flash, trotting over to her. He took her in a huge bear hug, kissing her cheek.

"Hey, Gina. Well, you didn't say you were beautiful over the phone! Dad blame, girl, my cousin is one lucky some-bitch! Set down, baby. Let's have some breakfast."

"I know a better place and they don't charge for parking. Do you have bags?"

"Just what's with us. I didn't give Bobby time to pack much. Auntie had all my uncle's clothing still. It's a tad outta date, but it'll fit Bobby pretty well. That's if he don't wanna go shoppin'." He laughed, punching Bobby in the shoulder.

"Robert Coulton." The older man came forward, extending his hand to Gina.

When she took it, he kissed her fingers delicately, smiling past her knuckles. "Please call me Robert. Delighted to meet you, Miss Gina." He didn't sound Southern, he sounded British.

"And I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Zane could be in a lot of trouble."

"So I hear. Tell me all you know about the situation."

She led them out of the airport to the parking lot. Gina realized she didn't have her sunglasses, but Zane had a pair in the car which fit her fairly well. Slipping them on, she backed out of the parking place and headed to the gate. As they drove to International Speedway Boulevard, she told Robert and Earl what she knew.

"That's all I overheard," she concluded. "Not much at all, I'm afraid."

"And Zane didn't come back or call last night?"

"No. They can hold him for awhile, right?" she glanced at Robert.

"Yes. They can hold him for questioning for up to twenty-four hours before they charge him. Then they either book him or let him go. Depending upon circumstances, it could go either way."

"I think they are liking him way too much for this murder," Gina said quietly. "Don't they always look at the spouse first? Or ex-spouse in this case?"

"Indeed," Robert nodded. "Often the cliché is the right answer. Other times, it's not. I can't believe Zane capable of killing. Not even after what she did to him."

"Nope," Earl agreed. "Zane's got a temper to him, but he ain't a violent man. He'd more likely put his fist through the wall than he would hurt another person, particularly a woman."

They pulled up at Biscuits. Gina had driven there without really intending to, but she needed someplace familiar and welcoming. The three of them got a table in Kitty's section and waited for her to bring coffee. Kitty was much more subdued than she had been yesterday. Gina could tell she was curious about the men, but didn't want to seem too nosy.

"Where's tall, dark and sexy?" Kitty asked as she poured their coffee.

"Ran into some trouble," Gina said quietly. "This is Earl, Zane's cousin. And Robert, his lawyer. Gentlemen, my friend Kitty."

Both men stood when they were introduced. Kitty smiled, blushing slightly."Delighted to meet you, little lady. Big Earl Du Champs. Zane's cousin on his mama's side." He took her hand, holding it gently in both of his as he gazed into her eyes.

Gina could see that Earl might be louder and less polished than Zane, but he was no less handsome, delicious and charming. Kitty virtually melted. Robert kissed her hand and she almost fainted. Fanning herself, she took their order to the kitchen.

"She's a pretty thing," Earl said, staring after her.

"She's got a boyfriend."

"Hell, that don't make a difference unless he's got a ring on her finger and a foot in the door."

"He's got the foot in the door." Gina grinned at him over her coffee cup. "And other parts of him—other places."

Earl chuckled as Robert smirked. Gina's giggle made them both laugh.

"Well, can't win 'em all, huh?"

"I don't imagine you're hurting for female companionship," Gina teased.

"Well now, you'd be right there. I'm not. But it don't hurt none to spread the joy does it?"

"Depends upon what you use to spread it," Robert remarked candidly.

Earl's laugh was contagious. The three of them were still laughing when Kitty came back out with their food. She plopped in the booth next to Robert.

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Indian Summer by Dellani Oakes

Indian Summer is an historical romance set in St. Augustine, Florida in 1739, a year before a major siege by the British. Gabriella Deza, the daughter of the Spanish governor, is fast approaching womanhood. Her fifteenth birthday looms on the horizon. She is completely taken by surprise when her father's aide-de-camp, Manuel Enriques, declares his love and asks to accompany her to her birthday party.

Indian Summer isn't currently available, but will be re-released the summer of 2017 along with the sequel, Savage Heart!

Excerpt from Indian Summer

"This is my dance, I believe, Señorita Deza."

Manuel locked eyes with the next candidate for treading on my toes, who cowered under his look. Nodding rapidly, the little rabbit of a man retreated to the corner behind Clara and seemed to take her as his shield of defense.

I graced him with my sincere smile and said, "I promise the next dance is yours, señor."

He bobbed his head rapidly again, retreating even further.

Manuel spoke from the corner of his mouth as we walked to the dance floor. "I don't think you will have to honor that promise, my sweet."

Chortling, I replied with a coquettish toss of my hair. "Why, Señor Enriques, do you intend to intimidate every man here?"

He chuckled secretively as he turned me in a circle under his arm. "If need be, my dear. If need be. I shall have you to myself." He put special emphasis on “shall” as he spun me again and the music began.

Quiet at first, I listened with only half my attention. Suddenly, the orchestra erupted in a wave of the most exciting music I had ever heard! The guitars hammered loudly, the percussion began a beat I was familiar with. The music echoed the pounding of my heart. Manuel chuckled, seeing the surprised look upon my face.

"Do you like my choice? It's a special request I gave them. A dance just for us!" He spun me again, three times in succession.

"I don't know this dance!" I gasped. "I don't know the steps!"

"Listen to the music, Bella. You know this. You feel it in your blood! Would I ever embarrass you? Follow my lead and you will be free!"

The music continued slowly, just a hint of notes on a single guitar. Manuel led me in a few gentle steps, ending in a deep dip. The tempo changed, accelerating into a fast, syncopated rhythm. He swept me into the most amazing dance! The music crashed into me in wave after wave of excitement. The power of it washed over us, setting my heart pounding in my chest with a beat at the same time unnatural, but as much a part of me as breathing.

We spun, stepped, dipped, clapped, stomped and when we got to the end I realized I had just danced my first Flamenco. I had seen this dance many times. The country folk in Spain danced this at their celebrations. The music and tradition had followed us to this new land, where they danced it at festivals. Manuel led me off the dance floor, both of us a little breathless and perspiring. It was then I noticed no one else had joined us in the dance. I looked up at him with a question on my lips. He shrugged casually.

"I asked for a dance alone with you. The gentlemen politely complied."

I narrowed my eyes, feigning a glare. "How much did you threaten them?" I was teasing and he knew it.

He held his fingers about an inch apart. "Perhaps, this much?"

Our laughter filled the courtyard as the next dance began. The orchestra seemed rather let down after the Flamenco. I believe it had been the highlight of their evening as well as mine.

"I need something to drink." My throat was dry and scratchy and I felt hot all over.

Manuel bowed, kissing my fingers, making his way to the punch. As rapidly as they could without being unseemly, my sisters rushed to my side.

"Bella," Maria chirped. "Where did you ever learn to dance like that! My goodness, I've never seen anyone dance the way the two of you did!" Their eyes glowed with happy envy.

"I didn't really know the dance, but Manuel is a strong lead. Was it really so exciting?"

"Exciting?" Maria grabbed my hand to her heart. "My land, girl, I'm all of a flutter! If a man were to ask me into the bushes now, I think I'd go willingly." She giggled. "My insides are on fire."

Irena didn't speak, but she didn't need to. Her blush from her cleavage to her hairline told me she felt the same way. "That was the naughtiest dance I've ever seen! And magnificent!" Irena's eyes glittered. "I should feel as if I had lived a full life indeed, if only I could dance like that once! I don't think Jason knows Flamenco." She pouted, looking disappointed.

Maria nudged her. "Jason is a fine man, Rena, but he has no 'Fire' to him."

Irena bristled at this. "He has plenty of fire!"

"Yes, if you like a slow burn." Maria shrugged. "Now that Captain Du Pont, there is a man with fire blazing in his soul."

I thought my sisters were about to come to blows, when Manuel approached us. He smiled warmly, extending a tray with three cups of punch.

"Am I interrupting something, ladies? If so, I'll take my leave.” He made as if to walk off.

Maria grabbed his arm shaking her finger at him. "No you don't, you naughty man! What a spectacle you made out there!"

She was teasing, I hoped he would be able to tell. In reply, he caught her hand and spun her around under his arm. Then he lowered her into a dip that had her nearly horizontal to the floor! All this with one hand, for he still carried the tray and didn't spill a drop! Raising her slowly, hardly seeming to strain with her weight, he locked eyes with her and his gaze burned into her soul.

"No, not naughty, my dear Maria. I'm wicked."

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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I Love Dialogue from One Night in Daytona Beach by Dellani

Jamie doesn't know many details, but she's aware that Draven is involved in something that he can't talk about. All that he's said is he's doing a favor for a friend and it means getting involved with a skeevy biker gang run by a man named Moose. Needing help, Draven goes to the one person he knows implicitly that he can trust, Agent Charlene Fitzgerald.

The constant rumble of motorcycles was muted here, but still present. It didn't seem that any city in the proximity of Daytona escaped the noise of thousands of motors. The imposing shape of a dark-paned SUV sat on the side the road. Draven's phone buzzed, flashing a text that came from a number he didn't recognize. Since it was a coded message that only Charlene would send, he smiled.

Jamie glanced at it, puzzled. It was a strange image: CKN@@. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's Charlene. Our private code. It stands for Cock ‘n’ balls."

"Do I want to know why?"

"It loses some of the humor if I explain. All of it, in fact."

The lights on the SUV flashed once and it rolled over to them, headlights off. The back door opened, the dome light absent.

They had to take a chance that it was Charlene. They had no other choice.

Draven climbed in first, keeping Jamie back until he was sure. When he saw Charlene's smiling face, and the back of her partner's head, he held out his hand. Jamie jumped quickly in and shut the door. The SUV took off with silent power.

"I know you didn't kill him," Charlene said calmly, after introducing herself to Jamie. "So tell me what happened."

Draven gave her a detailed report. The driver, a huge black man named Bramlett, nodded.

"Now Erickson wants my hide on his wall," Draven said.

"Erickson's an idiot of the first order," Bramlett rumbled. "If we'd had our way, we'd have been handling this, but your friendship is well known."

"We were able to intercept the report," Charlene said. "It looks very bad, Draven."

"I'm aware of that. I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Erickson failed to properly protect his asset. You could have been seriously hurt by Moose's men. Did you give the panic phrase?"

"I don't play nice with others," Draven replied. "Yes. Twice."

"Something isn't right. He should have come in with a full team at that point."

"If you ask my opinion," Jamie said, "it sounds like Erickson's an idiot, or seriously incompetent. I'm not ruling out the possibility that he's up to his dick in dirt."

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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I Love Dialogue from Analysis of Love by Dellani Oakes

When they decided to open a counseling office, Quaid Jennings and Boyd Stanton didn't expect one of their patients to be killed. Though an odious man, Mr. Overman is still dead under mysterious circumstances. The police detective in charge of the investigation isn't very happy to meet them when they go to identify the body.

When they got to the lobby, an athletic, tall, blonde woman was talking to Oracle. She rose when they came out. Her square jawed face was elegant, the color of her dark eyes hard to distinguish in the dull, fluorescent light.

“Do we have an identification?” she asked Jeremy.

“Yes, ma'am. Detective Chelle O'Brian, this is Dr. Jennings and this is Dr. Stanton. They were Mr. Overman's therapists.”

“Doing a bang-up job, gentlemen,” she said, snapping her lips shut.

Quaid, Boyd and Oracle stared at her, appalled. Even Jeremy had no idea what to say.

“Overman wasn't suicidal,” Oracle said. “I'd bet my license on it.”

“You might have to,” O'Brian said, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Three people in charge of his care, and he offs himself?”

“You can see any of our records,” Boyd said. “With the proper warrants. Overman was many things, but he wasn't a suicide risk. I'd more peg him for homicidal than suicidal.”

“And yet you let him go,” O'Brian said, her tone chilly.

Boyd, wisely, said nothing. Oracle started to open her mouth, but Quaid shook his head.

“Ms. O'Brian, are you a medical professional, mental health specialist? A psychiatrist or psychologist? Social worker?”

“No, but....”

Quaid bulled over her words, holding up his hand like a stop sign. “So, it's your completely uneducated opinion that my colleagues and I weren't doing our jobs, and that's why he jumped off a bridge?”

“I didn't say that.”

“That's exactly what you said. You insinuated that we purposely put a patient at risk. We did all we could for him, but he was rude, disrespectful, abusive of our staff and, more than once, took a swing at Boyd and me. He should have been in a facility full time, but they didn't want him either. He was a low down, pain in the ass.”

“So, you cast him aside.”

“I gave him plenty of other resources to call upon. I released him to another facility, who were supposed to follow up and continue his care.”

“But you let him go!”

“You want to know what he said to Oracle? Or to Pearl? He called my friends horrible names, called me a faggot....”

“And you let a word bother you? You're a grown man.”

“No, ma'am. I didn't. But I won't hear my sweet, intelligent Asian receptionist be referred to as a retarded slope eye or my elegant, caring social worker be called a nappy headed bitch. Are you saying that their welfare is less important than his?”

He purposely kept several feet away, not advancing into her personal space. She advanced into his, poking her finger at his chest. Before she could touch him or speak, he took a step back.

“Before you commit assault in front of witnesses, maybe you'd better reflect on what you want to say to me. I did my job, as did Ms. Jones and Dr. Stanton. I'm very sorry that Mr. Overman is dead, but I find it very difficult to believe that he killed himself. I suggest you instruct Jeremy to run a complete tox screen—now, because certain drugs break down rather quickly.” He looked at his watch. “It's been what, nearly an hour?” He eyed her over his raised wrist. “Mr. Overman was officious, obnoxious, and had the most toxic personality of anyone I've ever met. What he wasn't—was suicidal. I think you're looking at a murder or a very sad accident, Ms. O'Brian. I suggest you get cracking. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're tired and would like to get home to bed. We'd be happy to talk to you tomorrow.”

“I want his records.”

“Which we'll be happy to release with the proper warrant,” Boyd said. “I already told you we're willing to cooperate. We won't, however, stand here and take anymore abuse from you. Goodnight, Detective. Jeremy, thank you for your consideration. If you need us to sign something, let's do that and get it over with so we can go home.”

“Sure, Dr. Stanton.” He pulled up the paperwork and printed it for them to sign.

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Conduct Unbecoming by Dellani Oakes

Have you ever read a book that just made an impact on you? Well, that is exactly what Ninja Tattoo did for me!! I was so intrigued by Teague that I just needed more. I had to contact the author and beg her to write another book with Teague. Conduct Unbecoming is just that. Dellani does not disappoint in this book at all. She remained true to her characters and even added me as a new character! The question now is, how do I Get Dellani to write book 3? ~ Aileen Aroma

Welcome to Florida where there are sandy beaches, balmy breezes—and dead bodies on the beach. Unfortunately, the police suspect Teague's friend, and former battle buddy, of the killing. Teague knows Nadeya is innocent, but proving it won't be easy. She's disappeared and the last anyone heard from her, she was looking for this man in connection with her fiancé's murder.

Teague needs to find Nadeya before the police do. He must discover who killed the man on the beach and protect his friends and loved ones. Fortunately, he's not alone. Joined once more by his cousin, Joel McMurtry, they are augmented by one more—Jasper Waters. He's another police officer and former Marine. Adding to their numbers are Vivica, Teague's fiancée, Nadeya and her best friend, Aileen. The bad guys really don't stand a chance.

Join Teague and friends when they dodge bullets, rescue kidnapped victims and take an the airboat ride of their lives. It's an adventure they won't ever forget—provided they live through it.

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Excerpt from Conduct Unbecoming

Nadeya waited with her back to the brick wall of the Sheriff's Department. Her dark glasses concealed a good bit of her face, her hair obscured much of the rest. She wore it down and the black tendrils fluttered wildly in the breeze off the river. A tang of briny water reached Teague's nostrils. He smiled, telling Nadeya of the change of plans before placing the call to Isobel.

He told her how to find Old Fort Park and strolled north with Nadeya. They passed the small county courthouse on their left. Teague smiled at a couple of the officers out on break. They were having a smoke, but watching their environment.

Slowing down, Nadeya stiffened. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No. But I don't see a choice here. We could use her help. Her husband has connections."

A silver Maserati circled the park, stopping at the sign on the corner. Teague waved.

"How did you know it was Isobel?"

"No one else around here drives a Maserati. She always had expensive tastes."

The window scrolled down. Teague told her where to go park. He and Nadeya followed on foot. He was pleased to see that there were no other people in the park. Scanning the landscape, he took in details. Two men to the northwest on bikes, near Isobel's car. They were vagrants, but mostly harmless. No doubt, they were making Isobel nervous. The Maserati would attract their attention, as would the woman driving it.

To the south, he spotted a car and that was basically it for at least two blocks all around. There was some activity at City Hall, but not enough to matter. The two of them walked over to Isobel's car. The men on bikes moved on, leering at Nadeya and giving Teague a thumb's up.

"Friends of yours?" she asked.

"No, but I know 'em."

"You know everyone."

"Not really."

She made a face. "Even—over there—you knew everyone. You can walk in a room full of people and know their life stories and be pals with them two hours later. I don't know how you do it. You never met a stranger."

Teague chuckled. "I'm shy as hell, just full of blarney. I learned from my dad."

Isobel got out of her car, clicking the remote. She wore black Louboutin's covered with spikes. Her black pencil skirt was slit on both sides. The ruffles on her black silk blouse fluttered in the wind. Her hair was up in a French twist and she wore a pair of pink Louis Vuitton sunglasses that cost roughly the same amount as Teague's monthly rent. The wind changed and her scent wafted toward him, making Teague's nostrils twitch. He'd always loved the way she smelled. There was something bold and commanding about it that made him feel weak. He stumbled.

Nadeya nudged him, giving him an odd look.

"Sorry," he whispered.

His companion ogled the front of his pants, making him blush. How could Isobel have that effect on him after all this time? He loved Vivica, but here he was sporting a boner for another woman.

"I will pound you, McTeague," Nadeya gritted her teeth as she muttered. "Put that away!"

Isobel stepped forward, arms open to Nadeya. The other woman stood well away, wary and cautious. The hairs on Teague's neck rose. Something wasn't right. Even as careful as they'd been, someone had followed them. Nadeya felt it too. Immediately, the two of them eyed their environment. Across the bridge on a small, innocuous island, sunlight hit metal where none should be.

Reacting instinctively, Teague grabbed Nadeya, pulling her down. His body slammed into the concrete, though she landed on the grass. The window of the Maserati exploded. Broken glass flew in every direction as the bullet buried itself in the headrest.

Isobel screamed hysterically, dropping awkwardly to the ground. Pieces of glass peppered her skin with blood, but she was otherwise unhurt.

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know!" she screamed. "I didn't know he'd do this."

Teague rose to his knees. Another bullet ripped open the ground beside his right hand. Fucker can't shoot worth dick. Rolling to his left, he took cover behind a huge live oak. He tried to see the island from this position, but it was blocked by the corner of the marina and the angle of the bridge. Dialing the police, he reported the shooting, knowing the gunman would be long gone before they arrived.

© Dellani Oakes 2017

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I Love Dialogue from Snowed by Dellani Oakes

It's coincidence that Michael Reuben ended up in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He had car trouble on his way to Alaska, and decided to stay. It's not coincidence that he hit the road as soon as he could, in order to get away from his mother. What can you say about Ma? She's controlling, plays favorites with her kids and is the Queen of the Guilt Trip—and she's on her way from New York City to visit. She's bringing a man with her, and his daughter, Sarena. Knowing how difficult his mother is to travel with, Mike conspires with Sarena to make it an easier trip.

"Am I on speaker?"

"No." Sarena sounded kind of surprised.

I lowered my voice to nearly a whisper. "Is she making you completely insane yet?"

"You can talk a little louder. We've stopped again. She's in the bathroom."

"So?"

"Yeah, somewhat. Poor Daddy. She doesn't like the interstate much."

"Tip for future reference, Ma doesn't like much about road trips. Whose idea was this fiasco?"

"That I don't know," she said evasively.

"I'm sure he's regretting it already."

Sarena giggled, dropping her voice. I heard the car door open and shut. "You can believe that! I think he regretted it before we even got out of the City. I thought her backseat driving was going to make the poor man blow a gasket."

"Get her talking about her soap operas. It will distract her for awhile. It might make you crazy, but it will keep her off your dad's case and give him a break. When you stop in town, and you will, pick up some gossip rags and celebrity magazines. You'll have a little peace. Also, slip her some Dramamine or Benadryl."

Sarena laughed loudly and I immediately liked this woman. If she could laugh at my devious plans to keep my mother subdued, she was my kind of woman.

"You're evil, Mike. I knew I'd like you. I wish we'd talked to you about this before."

"I can share these tidbits with you because you're not the man dating my mother. Could you imagine me telling him this?"

"Daddy would blow a gasket, for sure. Anymore tips?"

"Got any soft music? Play something quiet, she'll fall asleep. She likes Patsy Cline and stuff like that."

"I'll see what Dad's got in the way of CD's. He's only got a few. So, what kind of music to you like, Michael?"

"Depends on my mood. I'm more of a heavy metal guy, but I'll listen to just about anything if I'm in the mood."

"And if your mood is frisky?"

"Now you make me sound like a puppy. I promise, I'm all grown up and potty trained."

"You're evading my question."

"It's a fairly personal question. Maybe I'm shy."

"You? I venture to say there's not a shy bone in your body."

"Not so much. I'd invite you to find out, but that's maybe not the most polite thing to say to a woman I never met, huh?"

"One thing you'll learn about me, Mike. I'm not awfully shy either. I've seen your picture," she left that statement hanging.

"Which one?"

"The one at your brother's wedding."

I was best man under protest. I looked pretty damn good in the tux though. She must have thought so too.

"I didn't even know you existed until my mother called me last week. I'm not up to speed on this whole thing."

"That's okay. You look like a man who can keep up."

"I try not to disappoint."

"Cheese it," she whispered huskily, sounding like Bugsy Malone. "Your Ma's coming."

"Then I'd better say goodbye. Remember what I told you."

"Thanks, Mike. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person."

"Me too. Call me if you need anymore tips."

"Will do. Probably at the next rest stop."

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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