It is with great pleasure I introduce you all to my dear friend, Kenzie Cade and her debut short story, Son of a Fish!
About Kenzie Cade:
Kenzie Cade was born and raised in the South where she spends her days in the sometimes stressful field of private medicine observing interesting people and committing them to memory for later use. When she isn’t reading, experimenting with recipes, or being distracted by social media, Kenzie spends time with her family, friends, and the Pomeranian/long-haired Chihuahua mix who likes to keep her company while she writes. As a young girl, Kenzie dreamed of princesses and their white knights. As an adult (or sort of adult), she dreams of princes and their proverbial white knights, which she attributes to fellow Arkansan S.E. Hinton and her novel
The Outsiders. Writing to keep the fictional voices at bay, Kenzie enjoys the journeys her characters travel to find their happy endings, and she loves the challenge of writing a great love story.
Contact Kenzie at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can also find her online at her blog: http://kenziecade.wordpress.com; on Facebook at www.facebook.com/kenziecade.author; and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/thekenziecade
Sam Crowe lives a quiet life. He's a freelance journalist and sometimes fiction writer. His world is turned upside down when love lands on his doorstep—literally, while cursing up a G-rated storm. Son of a fish, indeed. Casey Sanders doesn't know whether it’s good luck or bad when he slips and falls on the icy steps of his apartment building, but the hero who comes to his rescue is worth the discomfort.
Their attraction is instant, but Sam is certain Casey's flirtation and kind words are a result of the pain medication. But Casey is persistent and won't give up until he has what he wants. And what he wants is Sam.
“Thanks for doing this, Sam.” Sam liked the way Casey drawled his name.
“It’s no problem.” Sam smiled. “Really. It’s not like I had much else to do.” Sam shifted the car into drive and steered through the parking lot, then onto the road.
“What is it that you do?” Casey sounded genuinely interested instead of simply choosing a subject to fill the time.
“I write. I’m a writer. An author.” The fumbling of words was normal. Sam was not a fan of speaking, period. He’d rather put his pen to paper. “I do some freelance work for the local newspaper about once a month and I edit for a small publishing house, but my passion is fiction.”
“Oh, really?” Casey’s voice sounded light, cheerful. “That’s awesome. Have you been published?”
“Yeah.” Sam didn’t usually talk about his work. He was a private person. He felt Casey’s gaze burning into him and sighed. “I don’t talk about it a lot. I’m not embarrassed, but it’s not something I just tell people about. Yes, I’m published. Five books. Romance.”
“Really?” He didn’t sound derisive, just surprised. “So you don’t like talking about it, but will you share them? Tell me your pen name? Let me read one or two?”
Sam scoffed. “You read romance?”
“Sure I do. Why not?”
“Look at you. Big, tough, manly jock. I can see you reading mysteries and thrillers, not romance.”
In his peripheral vision, Sam saw said big, tough, manly jock shift so his upper body faced him. “I’m a jock, so I know nothing of romance?” Casey shifted to sit back in his seat. “We’ll see about that, author man.”