It was hard to choose what should be the first excerpt. All I can say is those readers who are expecting a smooth, glossy, ‘middle-of-the-road’ read will be disappointed. As a person, I do not like to dwell on negative, or tragedy. But in real life it happens. It is how we deal with it that shapes how it affects us.

Remember, your comments are always welcome.

A short excerpt from “Three Sisters Exclusive”, by Kerry Tickle

The door slams open as I hang up. Lee Jxxx strides through it and leaps over the chair in front of my desk, instead of walking around it like everyone else. Lee’s extra energy adds to his already impressive size. My office is a decent size, but it immediately seems overcrowded and small.

“Nice place,” he notes, looking around. “But it seems a little…” he pauses. “Ahh, no matter, you’re still getting settled.”

“Just say it’s a mess. I know it is. Heck, you know I’m not a clean freak.”

Lee looks me up and down, and grins. “Sure glad to know there’s still some of the Sam Pxxx I knew inside that suit. How about grabbing some lunch over at Lisa’s Cafe?”

Walking across the street with my old buddy, the comfortable ambiance of my hometown washes over me. I had tried living in several places before making the decision to move back. I’d settled in each place, thinking it would be where I would build my client base and law practice,   and become a “pillar of the community”. But the smog-filled, demanding cities, fast-paced college towns, and even the needy third world countries, did not hold on to me like this little burg, in the middle of no-where. I had ignored the inclination to come back for a long time, until it had become impossible to ignore it any longer. Here is where I would reach my full potential and be able to run my own law practice the way I wanted to. Working my way through the poverty in the inner city slums, and the destitute villages of Central America, made me realize before a person can begin stretching his horizons, he has to be secure in himself. A person has to have a “comfort zone” before he can step out of it. This small town, where I had grown up, is my “comfort zone”. Now I am able to step outside of it and tackle the issues that had prompted me to sit for the bar to begin with; to seek justice against prejudice and bigotry; to defend the underdog; to right wrongs in a way that prevented them from being repeated. And along the way, I would become the person I was meant to be. I shake my head to clear out the cobwebs before following my friend into the little café on the corner.

As we wait for our orders to arrive, Lee keeps up a running commentary about everyone we used to hang out with. I don’t have to say anything, except raise an eyebrow now and then, or nod my head between his ramblings. But suddenly he stops talking and ducks his head. A look of embarrassment flashes across his face. It takes quite a bit to embarrass Lee.

“Go on,” I press, “What happened to make Julie run like hell back inside?”

Lee’s face turns red and he looks up at the ceiling, “Well, she said there was a guy out in the parking lot who’d just flashed his junk at her.”

“What? You mean he deliberately exposed himself? He hadn’t just been pissin and turned around at the wrong time?”

Lee shakes his head.

Our food arrives. We’re both silent for a few minutes as we start eating. I’m processing what I just heard. That sort of behavior displays a rather sick mind; a mind that may be capable of much more insidious behavior. Well, what did I expect? There’s revolting behavior everywhere, even in quiet little Gothenburg.

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