The Fiery Boys (A Sample)

Not since Zedediah Turner.

Zed, as everyone called him, was my first lover back in high school and still ranked as my best. He was also the only man I'd ever actually fallen in love with. We were magical during our two years together, and he was anything but boring. But then he died, a month before the Fiery Boys broke up, and the pain of lost love still stung.

One day I'd find a lover like Zed-I knew it would happen. Hey, maybe I'd win this contest and turn my charms on River Sticks. My mind wandered back to those youthful fantasies in which River and I shared a make-believe life together. We were a great couple.

Okay, I admit it-I could be as delusional as Kira. My brain liked to take me on wild rides, thrilling me with spectacular outcomes or scaring me with horrifying possibilities. One little thought, and I'd be off to fantasyland. I couldn't help it; we all get that way some days.

But when I was done fantasizing, I knew that my chance of winning this contest was the same as Kira and Jo's. Zero. However, by this point in the evening, with my beer and adrenaline-fueled bloodstream fully operational, reality was irrelevant. I was definitely going to enter that contest. So what if I didn't win?

I grabbed my glass and got to my feet. "You're right. Let's take some pictures. Right here." The enthusiastic, try-anything-once part of me actually thought that this bar would be the perfect setting for my Fiery Boys spotlight.

Jo got up and started scouting for a good location. "We could pose over by the bar." She shot a playful smile. "No, wait! How about in the bathroom, posing by the sinks?"

I could play that game. "Or in the toilet stall. That would be a winning shot." Even Kira laughed at that.

"Let's do this." Jo ran to the bar and laid back against it in a lusty pose, her arms stretched out past other people's drinks. "Out of the way! This is a photo shoot." The men on either side of her laughed and obliged her while I took some pictures. We also posed by the exit sign and the jukebox.

We horsed around and took pictures for the next fifteen minutes. The bartender knew us and let us come behind the bar. I posed with my head under a beer tap, my mouth open. He obligingly poured a squirt while Jo snapped away.

Not willing to be outdone, Jo got up on the counter behind the bar and posed in front of the mirrored shelving, two bottles in each hand. Then she stretched out on the bar and pretended to be asleep while the bartender decorated the scene with empty bottles. Pretty soon, everyone was throwing out suggestions. We even made it to the bathroom for a few unusual poses.