Templet's Tasty Tails Mickie Sherwood Author

How will the bayou cowboy persuade the skeptical surrogate of his love?Excerpt:Meanwhile, Erika looked from person to person. Finally, her eyes rested on his. How’ve you been, Miss Washington?Fine and dandy, Mr. Templet. She dealt a hand and began lining up the cards.Yes, you do look that way.Erika glared at him. You’re doing it again. That’s so ill-mannered.Booker wiped his fingers on his napkin. I’m just trying to be friendly.Then stop it. Please.He chuckled. I apologize, Miss Washington. I promise you, I’m not a pervert lusting after pregnant women. I do wish I’d been able to say those things to my wife.Oh? Erika lifted her eyebrows, pity overtaking her expression. Are condolences in order?Booker, can I get you anything else? Theresa’s voice sounded shrill.I guess divorce is a death of sorts. To Theresa he said, No, thanks. Sometimes I run my big trap too much.Filling his mouth with food was the way he decided to remedy his loose tongue.Breaking up is hard to do.Neil Sedaka. Booker swallowed his food.Erika thumped down another card. Now, you’re playing Name that Tune. You love to play games, I gather.Trouble in paradise, Miss Washington?Erika’s exaggerated bat lowered her sooty lashes. When she looked at him, he saw fire in her eyes. Not anymore….Steps behind Vince, Booker walked into the dusky evening. The noise level indicated the event was still in full swing. Searching the grounds for Erika, he spotted her away from the masses. Although Vince appeared hesitant about joining the women, Booker did not give it a second thought. He sauntered over.Erika and Theresa shared a table littered with yet-to-be-eaten crawfish and totally destroyed carcasses.Well, how are Templet’s Tasty Tails?That’s a catchy title for your website, Erika complimented.Ahh. But, I don’t have one. Yet. Taking it upon himself, Booker swiped a crawfish from their pile and peeled it. I seem to remember a certain web designer cutting me loose. Like a crawfish-eating connoisseur, he devoured the tail. Meaty. Succulent. Delicious.If you must say so yourself, huh? Erika picked at him, presenting him a half-smile. He noticed she soaked the fingers of one hand in a cup of water.She turned her palm upward. The tips of her fingers were shriveled and streaked red.Are they burning?Like a four-alarm blaze, she said. Too many crawfish aren’t good in my condition, anyway.I know what’ll help. Booker went to the bar and came back. Try this.He replaced the water cup with milk. Next, he lifted her hand, feeling her ultra-soft skin. Erika allowed him to submerge her fingers.That does feel better.Good.Thanks.Wow. I call that progress.What is that fire in Erika’s eyes?