Your Breath My Wine Excerpt

Screenshot 2016-07-14 11.07.14

Your Breath My Wine, Wine & Song #4, will be out late July / early August of this year (2016 if you are reading this in the future)! This is an excerpt from Chapter 2.

Your breath my wine

David went into a sex shop to buy a set of graduated dildos. He’d meant to order them online, but Jazz had mentioned it again at breakfast and then texted him at lunch. When he got an idea in his head, he usually wanted to get started immediately if not sooner. David would’ve put it down to his youth – and did, out loud – but he couldn’t remember ever having been that impatient himself.

He walked along aisles of brightly colored toys. The floor was black granite tile, and arty glass light fixtures hung from the ceiling. The last time he’d been in a sex shop was in the 1990s. It wasn’t the seediness of it that had bothered him, but the grunge, the dirt in the corners, the unpleasant customers fingering the wares. He’d bought less than he’d intended and washed it three times when he got it home.

This was a marked improvement. Not only did they have the set of dildos he was looking for, they’d set it out next to a series of videos that was apparently meant to teach someone how to take it up the ass with minimal discomfort and fuss.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

David turned to the shop assistant with the bright smile and the snake tattoo wound around her neck. “No, thank you. These are all I needed.” He held up the dildos and followed her to the counter to pay while she told him with enthusiasm about the solid craftsmanship behind them, the silicone, the sizing, and did he need any lube?

“We have plenty,” he said.

“Carrying case?”

He stared at her for a second. “Do they seriously make you try to upsell dildos or are you doing this on your own initiative?”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, bit of both? The case is pretty useful though. Otherwise they all just rattle around in the drawer and sometimes you lose the size you want.”

“All right. Carrying case.”

While she was getting it for him, his phone rang. “David Cross.”

“Good afternoon, sir. This is Salter County Hospital. I have this number on file for a Mr. Jasper White?”

David paused. “I’m sorry, he’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”

“It’s about his father. Could you ask him to call us back as soon as possible?”

David agreed that he would. The tone in the woman’s voice had been urgent. Alive then, and probably not critical or she would’ve stressed the time factor. David paid for his dildos and carrying case and walked out onto the street, already dialing.

“What?” Jazz said when he answered. “Can’t talk. I’m unloading like a billion tubs of mayo.”

“It’s important. Take a break.”