Tuesday Tales: From the Word SUNNY

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales as we continue to adjust to this new normal, I keep remembering the good old days–you know the ones we thought were so bad.

Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog where a select group of authors share their current works in progress with you. To make it more challenging, we incorporate a word or picture prompt into our stories. This week’s word prompt is SUNNY.

I’m continuing with the novella I started two weeks ago, entitled, Buck’s Fizz.  Enjoy!

I stood up from the piano as if my entire world hadn’t just tilted, grateful I’d taken the time to disguise my appearance, cursing the pride that had made me give myself away. If that CD were still kicking around, it was likely he would recognize my voice since I’d sung lead on that, too.

While I wasn’t the only one who’d walked away from the sand at dawn eight years ago, he might not see it that way, and judging by his attitude toward Maureen, he probably hadn’t liked being a one-night-stand. So how had my long-haired Poseidon with the sunny disposition become a sourpuss cowboy with a brush cut and a daughter? It wasn’t a question I could ask, but I was dying to find out.

“You can follow me up to the house,” Lance said, grabbing his black Stetson off the bar.

Weren’t the villains usually wearing the ones in black hat? Maybe not. We’d binge watched Have Gun Will travel a few weeks ago when it had rained all weekend, and while The Lone Ranger might wear a white hat, Paladin was a good guy, but wore black.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Love ‘em or Leave ‘em Lance, in his black Stetson, could be either or both. He was giving us a shot at the job—no guarantees yet—but he certainly didn’t look happy about it.

“Buck!” he yelled, startling us all since we hadn’t expected anyone else to be around.

A man stepped out of what had to be a walk-in cooler, the frosty smoke surrounding him until he closed the door. Buck wasn’t much shorter than Lance, maybe five or ten years older, and almost as good looking. He immediately reminded me of Woody Harrelson. Was he the bartender? He would have the ladies eating out of his hand.

“Yeah, boss?”

“I’ve got to run up to the house. I’ll be back to finish the inventory in a bit.” He smiled bitterly. “By the way, meet tonight’s entertainment, Suzy and the Silvertones.”

Good old Buck’s eyes almost popped out of his head, and his jaw dropped.

“Them’s gals.”

Definitely a Woody clone. The man has to be a genius.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.