Happy International Cat Day! Wishing warm laps and tuna fish suppers to cats everywhere. 🙂
In this not-unrelated snippet taken from the second of my Shamwell Tales, Played, our dramatic hero Tristan is in the depths of despair – and about to finally meet an elusive inhabitant of the house he recently inherited:
Of course Con had been upset. Who wouldn’t be upon discovering they’d just shagged a base, imbecilic turd? Tristan was a flesh-monger, a fool, and a coward. And that was the best that could be said of him. He lay there, the cushion still over his face in the vague hope he might manage to smother himself, until an odd sensation at his naked hip caused him to freeze in alarm.
It happened again. There was something smooth and warm brushing against his skin, soft yet hard, like an iron fist in a furry glove. And there was the definite suggestion of whiskers.
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Played! – #2 in The Shamwell Tales
All the world’s a stage . . . but life doesn’t come with a script.
Posh boy Tristan Goldsmith has one last summer of freedom before he joins the family firm in New York—no more farting around on stage, as his father puts it. But the classically trained actor can’t resist when the Shamwell Amateur Dramatics Society begs him to take a leading role in their production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. As an added incentive, he’ll be giving private acting lessons to a gorgeous local handyman who’s been curiously resistant to Tristan’s advances.
As a late-diagnosed dyslexic still struggling with literacy, Con Izzard’s never dared to act before. With arrogant yet charming Tristan helping him with his lines, he finally has his chance to shine. But Con’s determined not to start a romance with a man he’s convinced only wants a casual fling.
Tristan’s never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when he realises his attraction to the tall, muscular handyman isn’t just physical. Just as he thinks he’s finally won Con’s heart—and given his own in return—disaster strikes with a slip of the tongue that shatters Con’s trust and sends him running for cover. This show may be over before the curtain’s even opened.
Intense, yet laced with a certain sense of humor which the narrator is giving off, mingled with his personal charm…I already like him. (heart)
Aww, nothing like a cat to pull you out of your head (or the depths of despair!). ❤
I like his sardonic description of himself.
I love Tristan’s internal monologue. It might be time for a reread.