Today, I'd like to welcome Cassie Exline, a fabulous author of many genres and overall entertaining woman. Her newest release, Ruby's Deadly Secret, is the second in her Sheryl Locke Holmes mystery short story series available at Wild Child Publishing. Think "Murder She Wrote," but with a younger, hot woman, a hot--fanning self--boyfriend, and a splash of humor.
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Ever laugh at the wrong moment? I'm warning you now, don't ever trip and fall in front of me. It's a sickness. I have to laugh and I'll continue until the tears roll and my sides hurt. Oh, I'll help you up, but I'll laugh even if I slip and fall on my butt beside you.
A few years ago, back in the dark ages when we still rented VHS movies. Well, my husband pulled up to the video store, I hopped out of the truck and down under the truck, I went. True story! I'm stretched out on my back, my head even with the passenger door, still open by the way, when I hear my husband ask our daughter, "Where did your mother go?"
To which she said, "She was here a minute ago."
I'm staring up at the sky, praying to God that DH doesn't move the truck and a new customer doesn't pull into the lot. The next thing I see are two faces peering down at me. Now you know what they said, "What are you doing down there?"
Okay, that wasn't funny to me, but they thought it was hilarious. Damn slippy shoes.
But it wasn't long after that the tables were turned. DH loves his cowboy boots. Don't ask me why he'd ever wear them in the wintertime, but he did. His legs shot in all directions and I laughed my ass off. Down he went and shot me a dirty look. I couldn't stop laughing. It's a sickness I have. He got up and went right back down. By this time, I was doubled over and could hardly breathe. More dirty looks darted my direction. He decided to walk in the snow and every third step he would slip. I couldn't move from the car for twenty minutes and I peed my pants.
When I started the job I have now, I discovered that my behind is made of rubber or else I'm magical. I can fall on it and I'm instantly on my feet. Amazing. Seriously. It was winter, I had good winter shoes on this time, no slippy ones, and strutted out of the police station. No, I wasn't arrested, but getting the police report for the newspaper. Out I went and twenty feet later, down I went. Like magic, I was on my feet. One of the Borough employees watched the whole horrible incident and asked if I was alright, in between snickering. Jackass. Oh, I assured him I was fine. No big deal. Did I mention this occurred on Main Street? Down the sidewalk I pranced like a pony, waving at people, chatting to this person and that, up the steps into the building where I work, on to my office. I closed the door and dropped like a rock on my chair. My God, I hurt. Everything hurt. If someone had yelled fire, I'd really had to think what I wanted to do.
My next "trip" was in the spring. I was off to the Library for a photo op, across the street and not far from the office, so I walked. No big deal (notice the pattern?). Let me tell you, don't ever get drunk in my town and walk down the sidewalk on those freaking bricks. Stupid lopsided pieces of crap. It was pitiful. I'm a country child, I know to watch where I put my feet, except I didn't and I did--fall that is. Down I went and up I popped. Like magic. I'm a good employee or just lucky, I didn't break the camera, but I thought I'd broke something else. On I went to the library, smiling, ever the trouper. This time I could feel the blood sticking to my pants and the palm of my hand burned like fire, but I pasted that blasted smile on my face, took the photo, asked the questions, and sauntered back to my office. I had bruises for weeks.
Don't get me wrong, bricks are beautiful as sidewalks, but also dangerous, even if straight and even. The area where I work in is part of the historic district. So, we also have a brick sidewalk. My hand to God, I have stood on those damn bricks and slid downward to the square. There's a slope. It was a slow go and I had time to think about how to escape with dignity. Don't forget, I work on Main Street. When I got close enough to grab on to a porch railing, I latched on like it was a life preserver. For a while I thought I was going to have to crawl on my hands and knees back to the office. A good Samaritan came along and put down salt so I could hobble back.
Golly gee, what wonders I have to look forward to with winter just around the corner. Rubber unite! Never mind, just pass me the Ben Gay and put on the coffee.
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Excerpt from Ruby's Deadly Secret
by C.L. Exline
Sheryl gazed into Jake's eyes and caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry for overreacting. For a brief moment, I thought I had lost you. I know better, but I'd just been with Mrs. Wallace and listened to how much her husband's betrayal had hurt her. I wasn't thinking, not with my head. Forgive me."
"Take your hands off of me!" yelled a voice in the distance.
Sheryl and Jake looked over to see Dot being physically escorted out of the restaurant.
"Madam!"
"Look, you little toad, take your hands off of me."
"I better intercede before Dot gets physical." Jake hurried to smooth things over. "Lawrence, it'll be okay. I'll take over."
Lawrence let go of Dot, but glared at her before facing Jake. "She and that blonde friend of hers are not welcome in our establishment. Both are troublemakers. We run a reputable business and cannot have altercations disrupting our patrons."
"Like I care to go back in! I wouldn't go in that rat hole if my life depended on it," Dot said and rubbed her arm. "You better hope I don't get bruises from your manhandling me."
The man snorted before stomping back into the restaurant.
"You didn't hit Lisa, did you?" Jake asked.
"Lawrence wouldn't let me."
