Saturday, April 13, 2013

L is for Leather Jackets

A to Z Blogging Challenge

It's All About the Books

April 13, 2012
Day 12

We’re almost at the halfway mark on the 2013 A to Z Blogging Challenge - yea! It’s so far, so good on my end. I’m keeping up, thanks mainly to the little “schedule” feature the blog program has. Is that cheating? Nope. It’s never wrong to use all the tools at your disposal to reach a goal or fulfill a commitment. That’s why we have tools - to help us succeed.

Today is all about Leather Jackets. Where did the inspiration for the title come from? If you know me, you might immediately say Elton John. Well, not this time. I credit my BFF for this one.

We were out shopping and stopped into a clothing consignment store. We love looking through the racks because you can find new clothes with the original sales tag still on them at rock-bottom prices. Seriously! Don’t pass up the chance to really save some money, folks. Case in point - I got a great leather jacket for fifteen bucks. That’s right - $15.00. So I was all about leather jackets when I started the story and the title ended up being Leather Jackets.

Although Elton’s line, “look at them boys in leather jackets” is very apropos.


Book six of the Men of Marionville series
Contemporary gay romance available now 

AmazoniTunesBarnes and NobleKobo and other online book sellers. 

Wynn DeRocher’s talent and ambition catapulted his band to the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he let get away - Jude Thatcher.

Wynn pitches a proposal - a lucrative job modeling the band’s new line of signature logo'd clothing. Jude accepts but both men know it’ll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to convince Jude to risk his heart again.

To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture of good faith. And he wants Wynn’s leather jacket as much as he wants Wynn. Almost.


Wynn held the hip-length coat for me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, then he let the weight of it come to rest on my shoulders. The jacket was lightweight but incredibly warm. I flipped open the left side to check the lining.

“Don’t bother. You’d have to cut the cloth to see what the insulating layer is.”

I stretched my arms out in front of my chest. The jacket moved with me, giving just enough to remain comfortable.

“This is a nice jacket. I see why you liked. Does he make bombers?”

Wynn reached in the closet and pulled out a black bomber complete with silver studs and chains. He caressed a front panel. “This is so you, Jude. Take it.”

For a moment, I was tempted. “I can’t accept this. It’s hand-stitched so I’m sure it was expensive.”

“Nine large. But take it. Call it a signing bonus.”

“Wynn, I don’t know the first thing about modeling. You need a professional, or better yet, model this yourself. Your fans will go wild.”

His fingers trailed down my leather-clad arm until they found mine. He hesitated, then stroked his thumb over my knuckles. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it.

“I knew you were here. I came back to Marionville to find you, Jude.”


...“C’mon on over here.” He lifted his arm, and I nestled in against him like I did it every day of my life. “Jude, where do you want to go from here?”

I could play coy—something neither of us had ever liked—or I could be upfront with him. I chose the latter.

“Wherever you’re sleeping, I’m sleeping, and you know it. Now we can try to find a bar where the clientele won’t mob you, or we can find a nice quiet—private—place and say some things that need to be said to each other.”

He grinned at me. “Damn, Mary, you should be out of breath after all that.”

I growled and turned on him. “Don’t. Call. Me. Mary!”

Wynn held up his hand in mock surrender and it was the opening I needed. I dug my fingers into his ribs. He yelped and twitched, and the next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the floor of the limo, choking with shared laughter.

We rolled left, and I rose over him. Wynn’s long legs wrapped around my waist, squeezing me. I feigned defeat so he’d release me. The ploy worked for about a second and a half and then I was on my back looking up at him. The smile faded from his face and his hand cupped the back of my head.

“I’ve thought about you so much, Jude. I was wrong not to find you years ago.”

It would do no good to argue. Too many years had gone by for either of us to resurrect blame. Nothing would be gained and all the steps we’d taken in the last day would be erased. I didn’t want that. He’d only be here for such a short time. I had to make the most of every moment.

Book six of the Men of Marionville series
Contemporary gay romance available now 

AmazoniTunesBarnes and NobleKobo and other online book sellers. 

KC Kendricks
website at:
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Kellie @ Delightfully Ludicrous said...

Wow, a fifteen dollar leather jacket! That's a bloody good deal!

KC Kendricks said...

I think so! It has a little smear of sparkly red nail polish inside the left cuff. Inside it, mind you, like it happened when it was being put on. You can't see it when wearing the jacket. I guess I could take a q-tip and some polish remover and dab it off, but why risk it when no one can see it? It's a great jacket - no other marks on it and the zipper is sturdy. Waste not, want not.

Kern Windwraith said...

That $15 leather jacket was an amazing find. Love the scenes from your story, KC. I'll pop back later to see what else you're sharing!

KC Kendricks said...

Thanks for stopping by Between the Keys, Kern :)

Juliet Bond said...

Fun (and ehem, exciting) blog. Just stopping by for the A-Z Challenge. Please check us out and sign up to follow if you like what you see. Juliet atCity Muse Country Muse