My First Date with Jolene, and Her Cousin, Billy-Bob
A Short Story
Copyright 2011 by Michael Angel
ISBN: 978-1-4580-9328-8
Smashwords Edition
Includes a sneak preview of Michael Angel’s
latest ‘fantasy and forensics’ novel,
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Also by Michael Angel
When a warlock from the magical world of the Morning Land murders Derek Ridder’s friend, the LAPD detective gets a new partner. Her name’s Tavia, and she’s a brash, driven unicorn filly. She identifies the killer as Sir William Teach, the one man she’s sworn to capture or kill. Together, Derek and Tavia must race to uncover Teach's plan to conquer both of their worlds.
Con artist Amanda Love and her crew of loyal misfits take their traveling ‘pay to pray’ Salvation Show out to the backwater planets that dot fringe space. But her latest outing nearly becomes her last, when she’s attacked by mercenaries sent by the galaxy’s most corrupt company: Mal Corp. And Amanda discovers the secret that has attracted the attention of its ruthless CEO, Malco Trent.
Unlikely Heroes, Strange Places: 10 (Okay 11) Short Stories
Uncover the painful, bruise-covered truth of how Shakespeare became literature’s leading light. Tag along as an investigative reporter hunts down a mysterious figure who's able to predict the future. And tune into a Texas radio station as the DJs race to stop a murder…while they’re still on the air.
See the full listing of Michael Angel’s works on Smashwords.
Table of Contents
My First Date with Jolene, and Her Cousin, Billy-Bob
Enter the World of Michael Angel
My First Date with Jolene, and Her Cousin, Billy-Bob
This professor I pulled for freshman English says you need three things for any story: a character, in a setting, with a problem. So here you go, amigos.
Character: My name is Simon Nance. Originally from Surfside, California, new freshman at Alamo College. I’m still searching for a major that’ll let me catch some rays at the beach. I figure, maybe marine bio or something.
Setting: a ranch near some podunk town east of the Pecos, west of Houston, and way, way, way south of civilization.
Problem: My ‘date’ has a chaperone. A six-foot four dude with a shotgun the size of a small cannon, who’s looking for an excuse to shoot me in the postremo.
Welcome to my world.
Earlier this year, I’d been so jazzed to get out of Surfside High, you have no idea. I wasn’t a jock, okay? I hated the sour smell of the locker room and the gamey taste of sweat. I joined the drama club – not to act, god no! – but so I could watch from the sidelines and listen to the words. Shakespeare in particular. When you hear his stuff, whoa, the words roll off the tongue like warm board wax.
So I guess you can tell that I did surf. Nothing beats spending a weekend on my board, riding the tube. Sunlight through the waves, enjoying the salty taste of the water mingling with tangy sour apple from the Jolly Rancher candy tucked into one side of my mouth.
See, nobody in Surfside would so much as blink if I stumbled into trig on Thursday afternoons in my Patagonia swim trunks, ripped tees, and tar-stained flip-flops. That’s just the way it rolled for me. It worked. Kept me sane, kept me out of trouble, pulled me some okay grades, let me slide into college.
I’d never really had what you’d call a ‘girlfriend’, but, hey, that was because I had standards. Well, at least some standards.