Introducing My New Book!

Hello my friends!  Happy July 2023!

I’m doing something different in this post.  For this month only, instead of the MS humor blog you are used to, I am using this space to introduce my new book!

Shelter of the Monument: A Provincetown Love Story

My publisher, Black Rose Writing, has set the release date for 11/16/23.

Here’s the cover; an excerpt is below.

I hope you enjoy the cover, designed by Black Rose Writing using a picture taken by my friend, Russell Dutra, as well as the new website, courtesy of my very talented web guru at Kemp Resources. I love how both turned out!

For upcoming information on the book itself, reviews, pre-order information and book signings, please sign up for my newsletter.

And, in keeping with the humor aspect of my blog, I wanted to offer this excerpt from Shelter of the Monument.

This scene takes place in Provincetown, MA in January of 1992. I hope you enjoy it and it makes you want to read the book which I can’t wait to share!

And, for my MS friends, don’t worry, the regular humor blog will be back in August!

From Shelter of the Monument: A Provincetown Love Story–

---

            January could be pretty bleak for townies. I was not concerned. It felt like the first time I was spending the winter in Provincetown. Sure, I had grown up here. But I lived with my mom and my sisters and I went to school. Now I was in my own place, living with Richard and appreciating every minute of it. While he picked up small jobs here and there, I scoured the want ads for a full-time job and was relaxed while doing it, having the security of unemployment until May when I would again start my seasonal job. When I was not with Richard I was with my friends or my family. The dull, cold days, desolate streets, and boarded up businesses didn’t depress me. Instead, they felt welcoming and encouraging. They felt promising.

            We were home one bitter, dark night when the phone rang. Richard answered it and I heard a loud voice on the other end.

“Hey Richard, it’s Dante. Does your old lady want some clothes?”

            I feigned a ‘what the hell’ expression and Richard shrugged his shoulders.  He asked Dante what was going on.

“My old lady threw me out, the bitch. For no reason! I had like 10 minutes to get all my stuff and so I took some of her clothes to piss her off. I don’t wanna take them to the thrift shop ‘cause she’ll just go get them again. What’s the point of that?”

            Richard had been there–at least in the getting thrown out part. He had sympathy for his buddy who just happened to be in the neighborhood. Dante came over and we met for the first time. While he handed me a large, dirty, trash bag, Richard handed him a beer. I went through the bag and pretended to be appreciative while he told us the story of the fight that led to him walking around town with a garbage bag of women’s clothing. I oohed and ahhed over several of the items while I tried to carefully fold them. Even if I had felt comfortable wearing stolen apparel, Dante’s ‘old lady’ was a size zero. On a super thin day I might have been able to squeeze into an 8 but I was basically a 10. Yet, I was new to this relationship stuff and did not want to seem ungrateful to Richard’s friend who thought he was killing two birds with one stone: pissing off his ex while gifting Richard’s ‘old lady’ with a new wardrobe. I compromised by selecting and gushing over two ratty but common t-shirts that I could not imagine the ex would miss and even if she did, would not recognize. I would never fit into them but made a mental note to drop them off at the thrift store. Maybe the ex would get some of her clothes back after all….

            Not many days later, Richard and I had a different sort of visit/clothes issue, except this one was about a lack of clothes. Richard had come home frozen and filthy after doing gear work on a friend’s boat. As he was getting into the shower, I told him I was going to pick up Serena and bring her back to the apartment, so they could talk about her car which he had agreed to work on. When Serena and I came in, Richard was out of the shower and calmly watching TV, wearing nothing but a pink towel. Serena doubled over with laughter and could not get over the fact that he was just in a PINK towel. “Pink, that’s what so funny! He’s wearing a pink towel!  I’ve used your towels and I know you have colors besides pink!”

            Personally, I was furious and embarrassed. What was he thinking? Richard was hot and had a great body. Was he just trying to show off? Did he think we would be so enamored of his abs that we would both throw ourselves at him? I didn’t think so. Richard loved me even though he knew I was pretty uptight. While Serena was far from uptight, it would still never happen. Mostly he was just being his impish self, trying to shake the winter up a bit and have fun watching me turn bright red. I yelled at him to go get dressed like a normal person and he did. But not before making a production out of pretending to “almost” drop the towel on the staircase which caused Serena to crack up even more.            

            Back downstairs and dressed, they talked about her car problems. He had taken a look at the engine the day before and knew what she needed done. He estimated what the parts would cost and said he would call them into the shop the next day. Once Serena had the money to pick them up, he could fix her car, no problem. 

            Serena was known for many things: a great sense of humor, being kind, being a flirt, being adventurous, and her incredibly big boobs. Dolly Parton had nothing on my dear friend, and she didn’t mind if people talked about her chest. I was not lacking in the boob department that much myself, but Serena’s were definitely bigger. She would not have been offended when Richard called the shop the next morning and spoke to a guy he knew that worked there. When he was done ordering the parts she needed, he told them that a very large-breasted woman would be in to pick them up.

“Why would you tell him that?” I asked.

“So they’ll recognize her. And hey, you never know, maybe they’ll give her a break on the price.”

“You men are dogs,” I told him.

            A few days passed and Serena had the cash but not the opportunity to get to the shop several towns away. On another one of my laundry trips with Laurie, I volunteered to go to the auto store for her. I told the clerk I was there to pick up parts Richard had called in. He leered at me and said, “I thought so.” Oh buddy, you have no idea what you missed had the original woman come in, I thought. But I had to admit, I felt a little flattered. 

            Unfortunately, however, MY boobs did not get her a discount….

---