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    Jigs and Reels
    Jigs and Reels
    Jigs and Reels
    Ebook70 pages1 hour

    Jigs and Reels

    By Leigh M. Lorien

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Elijah works in a cubicle, lives with his parents, and never goes on dates. It isn’t an exciting life, but it’s safe and easy and that’s good enough.

    Then he meets Peter, a whirlwind of a man who leads a traveling renaissance band. Peter represents everything Eli usually avoids, but his boisterous enthusiasm is infectious… and his band needs a fiddle player.

    When Eli agrees to fill in for a weekend, he awakens a part of himself he thought long gone. With Peter’s help, he shakes off the dust that has settled on his soul and remembers how to have fun.

    But when the band asks him to join them permanently, is Eli’s newborn sense of adventure -- and insane crush on a man he barely knows -- enough to make him leave the safety of a life he’s clung to for years?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateSep 16, 2017
    ISBN9781634864589
    Jigs and Reels

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      Book preview

      Jigs and Reels - Leigh M. Lorien

      Jigs and Reels

      By Leigh M. Lorien

      Published by JMS Books LLC

      Visit jms-books.com for more information.

      Copyright 2017 Leigh M. Lorien

      ISBN 9781634864589

      Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

      Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

      All rights reserved.

      WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

      No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

      This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Published in the United States of America.

      * * * *

      Thank you to all the fine folk whose music and enthusiasm inspired this story, and thank you to my Twitter followers for being the most wonderful and supportive people I’ve ever met. I love you all.

      * * * *

      Jigs and Reels

      By Leigh M. Lorien

      Bring your violin

      I should have had the sense to demand answers as soon as I read that text. Who the hell takes their fiddle to dinner? But in an effort to be more chill, I got into my best friend’s car that evening, fiddle case in hand. Once Katie had me ensnared in the silver-and-rust-colored death trap, travelling down the highway at speeds high enough to preclude my escape, she broke the news.

      We’re meeting some friends.

      A groan left me before I could stop it, and I blurted the questions I should have asked in the first place. Who? And where are we going?

      I didn’t have the energy for spending time with people I did not know. Katie’s friends could be anyone from college girls to conspicuously single gay men, and if they were going to be at this dinner engagement, I would much rather be somewhere else. Alone.

      You’ll like them, I promise, she assured me.

      The non-answer irked me. And why did I bring my fiddle along for this? You’re not expecting me to entertain your friends, are you?

      What? No.

      We took an exit and I frowned. I’d thought we were heading for a restaurant, but we seemed to be pulling off onto a rural road. The old car’s brakes let out an ominous squawk as we rolled up to a stop sign at the end of the exit ramp. My seatbelt locked up and slammed me back against the cracked leather. For a second, I felt like a prison inmate about to receive his final injection. Where are you taking me?

      To the devil. I want you to win me a golden fiddle. She grinned, a flash of brilliant white teeth contrasting her dark skin. Adorable as she was, I continued frowning. Charlie Daniels jokes about me being a fiddle player. So original. When I didn’t laugh, her smile turned into a pout.

      Fine. We’re going to their house.

      I groaned. Katie!

      You’ll like them, she said again, reaching over to give my leg a reassuring pat. "I promise, Eli. You’ll like them."

      I did not feel convinced.

      * * * *

      Our mystery hosts lived in a Cape Cod style house with white siding and slate grey shutters. A stone walkway led up to a white door. Katie took her time on the approach, surveying the manicured lawn and late summer flowers blooming in the beds bordering the walk. She looked thrilled about this adventure, but then, Katie was always thrilled to have an adventure. I tried to remain optimistic. Last time she’d dragged me out with people I didn’t know, we got into a political discussion and I’d wanted to fly at them like that bunny in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

      Katie rang the bell. Somewhere in the house, a spritely jingle played and a woman’s voice called, I’m coming!

      Smile, Katie said, nudging an elbow into my ribs. The front door opened and I made my lips curve as a woman greeted us. She had dark hair, dark eyes, and a big smile. She looked older than the people Katie usually hung out with—maybe even near forty—but it didn’t subtract from a bright energy she seemed to emanate.

      Come in! She stepped aside and held the door. Did you have any trouble finding us?

      Nope, Katie said. She put a hand on the small of my back and I had no choice but to move forward onto this stranger’s foyer. Hope it’s okay we parked in front of the garage. You’re blocked in.

      The woman psh’ed and waved a dismissive hand. Her attention turned to me. This must be The Fiddler. She said the fiddler like a proper noun, like I was the King or the President. The Fiddler. Nothing like a healthy dose of high expectations to make an uncomfortable situation even worse.

      Hi, I

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