My thanks to the folks who bought books on this glorious day. Here's an excerpt from Exchanges, the novel I've had accepted by WheelMan Press. For some reason, I don't expect it to make into print. I hope it's just the normal anxiety that arises between acceptance and publication, and that my instincts about the operation prove unfounded.
At 18 he became reckless. Employment provided cash, which allowed him freedom, especially when he saved enough to pay for a car and insurance. For so long he’d been under his father's thumb, without the means to rebel. Suddenly he had the means, meager though they were, and rebel he did, visiting rock clubs nightly, drinking, stealing money from atop the bar, taking drugs, fighting, driving fast, nailing any girl who was willing. His youth coincided with the "free love" movement. Terrified the first time he entered a club, the meeting of women became as easy as: "Got a match?" He was without conscience, performing the act in cars, alleys, bathrooms, in beds shared with friends and their lovers. His father made a single futile attempt to put an end to the hours he was keeping, but Charley had grown so strong and his father so weak from indolence and neglect that he evaded most of the blows aimed at him, shrugged off the rest, and snickered at the verbal threats leveled at him.
In retrospect, he was amazed he’d survived those years of driving under the influence. Had he believed in God, he would have believed he was being watched over. He doubted God would favor him over the many innocents who perished in traffic accidents. He experienced guilt whenever he recalled how disrespectful he’d been to his father, even though he’d despised him. He cringed at the thought that Billy might one day treat him that way.
Ironically, considering the sins he’d committed in clubs or that were led to in them, he met Loretta in one. He’d met countless others like her, girls who at a glance or word he knew were out of place, who he knew it would be futile to pursue for a fast fling. He’d disregarded them all without a second thought, yet the first time he gazed into Loretta’s eyes he was stopped in his tracks. He immediately sensed her personality and values. He was surprised she didn't ignore him, didn't turn away, didn't see the real him as he believed he saw the real her. To his friends' chagrin, he soon fell out of circulation. He reformed almost entirely, shaving his beard, cutting his long hair, quitting cigarettes.
"If I ever got married and had kids I wouldn't want ‘em to think it was okay for them to smoke," she’d said.
He was humbled by the insightful simplicity of the remark. The thought that she seemed to have designs on him was all the incentive he needed to continue his reformation. He did not miss drugs at all. He also cut back greatly on his drinking. His only falls from grace were sexual. He was 21 and accustomed to having sex regularly. Loretta would not allow him more than a polite kiss, even after their engagement. And he feared that, should he force her, she would leave him. And with women continuing to call him, he was unable and unwilling to resist temptation. He cut his activity to weekly, long sessions, and allowed himself at least a day before seeing Loretta again so his guilt wouldn't be severe or apparent. If she suspected his philandering, she didn't let on.
The change in him became complete once they were wed. The sight of his father, of all people, shaved and in a tuxedo, impressed upon him the importance of the vow. And Loretta never denied him, although sex was very difficult for her for months. His drive at least had an outlet. And once she relaxed, became convinced that the enjoyment of the act was not damning, their sex life became very satisfying, and they grew even closer.
Looking back, he was glad Loretta had been a virgin on their wedding night, proud no other man had ever had her. The years had allayed the frustration he’d suffered in her presence before their marriage. He’d often been on the point of blurting: "You're makin’ me go to other girls for it," inwardly blaming her for his infidelity. Fortunately common sense prevailed. He shuddered at the thought of how close he’d been to telling her. Where would he be now had he let slip and lost her - prison? Dead? It did not seem far-fetched. Somehow, deep down, he must have known, must have believed he would never have such an opportunity again. He dreamed of a "normal" life, which he would not have thought possible until he’d met her. Suddenly the romance of films seemed truth, not fiction. Although their life together had been a struggle, nothing like anything out of Hollywood, he’d chosen wisely. His instincts, if not his fantasy, had proven correct. No man would ever have a better wife, a better mother for his children.
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Vic's Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
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