G. E. Stills
I live in the southwest with my wife, dog and
a cat. I have grown children with children of their own. In the past I
was a mechanic and then a business owner, retired. I have always loved
to read and enjoyed writing stories from an early age. Most of my time
now is spent in front of my keyboard writing or sitting back and
thinking about a current WIP or a new story to write. When not engaged
in my favorite pastime of writing, I enjoy boating and camping.
My stories primarily deal with paranormal,
fantasy or science fiction and all of them, thus far, involve romance.
The heat levels vary from non-erotic to sizzling. Most of my characters
are strong and assertive; many are outspoken. Many of my characters have
magical abilities or are normal people in abnormal situations with a
strong sense of justice. My villains are, well . . . villains, doing
villainous things.
New Titles from G. E.
Sherry and Rodger have known
each other since childhood. They've been good friends for a long time,
but have lost contact over the years. Chance brings them together once
more. There is an almost magnetic attraction between them. Over the
course of two days they become much more than just friends. There is one
problem though, Sherry is the ex-wife of Dave, Rodger's cousin. Dave is
the son of a very wealthy and powerful man and he is determined to make
Sherry’s life miserable. She is very afraid of him. He would definitely
not approve of Sherry and Rodger’s relationship if he found out.
Excerpt
Word Count: 17,720
Pages to Print: 64
File Format: PDF
Price: $3.99
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The pleasure cruise is turning into a
nightmare. The evening before the cruise, Jay asks a pair of attractive
ladies to dance. One of them heaps insults on him and tells him
he’s not good enough. He doesn’t even know their names but in
his opinion, the two are nothing but trouble. After being thrown
overboard, he drifts ashore on a island. To his dismay, he
discovers that one of them has washed ashore with him.
Swallowing his anger and cursing his rotten luck, he assists her
away from the surf and sets out to find help.
While trying to apologize to Mr. Smiles
(Jay, the man with a wonderful smile, whose name she doesn't
know), Trish sees the two men
throw him overboard. She tries to rescue him and is tossed over
herself. When she regains conscious, she is looking up into his
un-smiling face. Stranded alone with him on an island, she
wonders if he will assist her, or leave her to fend for herself.
Excerpt
Word Count: 17000
Pages to Print: 65
File Format: PDF
Price: $3.99 |
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Excerpts:
Forbidden
Love
Rodger had just returned from overseas the week
before. His enlistment in the Army ended at the same time, so he was
staying with his parents until he found a job. His parents ran a dairy
farm about fifty miles north of the Midwest Nebraska town of Colter
where he was presently, having found nothing in the way of female
company in the nearby North Scotia. Colter, with a population of about
thirty thousand, was almost a huge city compared to the small ones
closer to the farm.
“I’m going to Colter. Gonna do some shopping,
maybe look for a job,” he told his mom just before he left the house.
The first he actually intended to do, the second . . . well, he was not
in any big hurry to find a job and settle into a day-to-day routine.
He’d put money in savings the whole time he was overseas, so money to
live on was not an immediate factor. Doesn’t take much to live on when
you are restricted to base in a war zone, he reminded himself. He was
just ready to relax and unwind for a few weeks.
Which brought him to the real reason for being in
Colter―the night clubs. He hoped to meet a single female at one of these
clubs; drink and dance and just be in her company for the evening. Of
course, I won’t refuse sex either if the chance presents itself. I’ve
been out of the states for almost two years. It’s been far too long
since I had female company, to say nothing about sex.
The sixty-eight cherry red Mustang he drove was
his baby. Thanks to being in storage most of the last four years and a
lot of time spent waxing and polishing, it still looked showroom new.
The inside was as spotless as the outside. It should do very well as a
chick magnet. He grinned from ear-to-ear.
His grin faded into a frown when he started across
an intersection and the car quit―it rolled through the intersection and
he guided it over to the curb. He stepped out and looked under it to see
if by chance the drive shaft had come loose or broken. It was still
intact.
“Shit,” he said aloud, “I wonder what’s wrong?”
A transmission shop just happened to be about half
a block away, so he locked the car and walked down to it. He told them
what had happened and they agreed to have a look at it. It was close
enough that several of the mechanics got together and pushed it to the
shop. After the service manager told him to check back later, he left
his baby to their care.
He walked around in the downtown area, mostly
window shopping and killing time. Damn I wonder what is wrong with my
car? A few hours later he returned to the transmission shop and got the
bad news: his transmission would require a complete overhaul.
“It’ll take about two days,” the service manager
told him.
So much for my plans. I guess I will try to get
out to the interstate and get a motel room.
He found a payphone and called his parents to let
them know the situation and that he would not be home. Looking at his
watch, he realized his mom and dad could not come get him since it was
getting close to time to start milking the cows.
“Why don’t you call Sherry? Maybe your cousin Dave
is down there or is going down there to visit his son. You might be able
to catch a ride with him. Just a suggestion.”
Sherry was his Cousin Dave’s ex-wife. Dave lived
in North Scotia with his parents. Mom, if you only knew how much Dave
and I dislike each other you wouldn’t even suggest I catch a ride with
him. His thoughts drifted to Sherry.
I didn’t even know Sherry lived here. I haven’t
seen her since we were high school kids. He had no intention of asking
fuckhead Dave for a ride, but it would be a good enough reason to call
her. Not that he really needed a reason, but it would serve as an ice
breaker to renew their friendship.
“Thanks Mom. I’ll do that. You don’t happen to
know her number, do you?”
“No, but I’m sure she's listed in the phone book.
Your dad and I can come get you after milking in the morning if he’s not
there.”
“Nah. If worse comes to worst, I’ll just stay down
here a couple days until my car is fixed. No sense in you coming down
here just to turn around and bring me back down to pick it up. Bye Mom,
see you in a couple days. Sooner if I catch a ride.” Not fuckin’ likely,
if I have to ride with ‘him’. He grinned.
Rodger’s parents hadn’t always been farmers.
Rodger had grown up in a large city far away from the small sleepy town
of North Scotia. His parents had moved onto the dairy farm while he was
in the Army.
He and Sherry had been close even though many
miles had separated them when growing up. They only saw each other for
about two weeks a year when he was on vacation with his parents. He was
much closer to her than he'd ever been to her ex-husband, dear old Dave.
They'd talked on the phone frequently and shared
all their teenage experiences over the years. Some of them had been very
intimate and personal. Some of them had been silly like who their
favorite bands were. Sherry had talked him through the heartbreak of
teenage breakups. He had helped her get through the frequent fights she
had with Dave. The two of them seemed to be drawn together like magnets.
Nothing sexual, just excellent friends. When Sherry got pregnant he had
been the first one she told. She told him even before she told the
father.
Then Sherry had married Dave, the talks ceased.
Dave and he had never gotten along well, and when he married Sherry he
insisted she not talk to him. A year later, Sherry and Dave had gotten a
divorce. It had been a very nasty divorce with a lot of bad feelings on
the part of both his extended family and hers. His parents were among
the few of his family who didn’t hate Sherry for hurting poor Dave.
Poor Dave. What a joke. Rodger knew better. Dave
was an asshole. At least that is the way he felt about him. Sherry had
gotten pregnant before getting married and now had a two-year-old little
boy. Because of Dave’s insistence they not talk, he and Sherry had lost
contact. Even after the divorce they'd never renewed their friendship.
Partly because he was over seas. He missed the close friendship they'd
once shared prior to her marriage. He picked up the phone now and called
her.
A female voice answered, “Hello?”
He didn’t quite know how to start the
conversation, so he just dived in and started by identifying himself,
“Sherry, this is Rodger. How are you? We haven’t talked in a long time.”
After a long moment of silence on the other end of
the line, the woman hesitatingly asked, “Rodger . . . Dave’s cousin
Rodger?”
“Yes, that Rodger.”
“My God. We haven’t talked for such a long time.
How are you? Where are you? I heard you were visiting your parents.”
“I’ve been better. My car broke down here in
Colter,” Rodger hesitated then asked, “Sherry, is Dave by any chance
here, or coming here?”
“No, he’s not here and I’m not expecting him,
why?”
He explained the situation to her. He asked if it
would be possible for her to give him a ride out to one of the motels by
the interstate.
“Sure,” she told him. “I’ll be there in about
thirty minutes. Just watch for my battered old white Chevy II.” She
laughed.
After some final words with the service manager
and signing more forms, Rodger stepped out on the sidewalk in front of
the shop to wait.
I wonder what she looks like now. She was always
so pretty before. It’s been so long since I have seen or talked to her.
Too long.
About an hour later a Chevy II pulled up to the
curb in front of him. It was just as she had described, ‘battered and
old’. Dings and dents, with primer in a number of places. She stepped
out on the sidewalk to greet him. After they exchanged hugs, she leaned
back against the car door.
She looked nice, in a proper sort of way. She'd
always dressed rather conservatively, in his opinion. Most of the girls
from around here dress that way. Not like the more revealing way the
girls dress in the city where I grew up. She wore a knee-length print
skirt and a matching button-up print blouse with all but the very top
button fastened and white sandals.
She saw him looking at the car and with a shrug
she explained, “This is the only thing the asshole left me to drive when
we got divorced. I guess it beats walking, though.”
As if it had just occurred to her she suggested,
“Rodger, you should come over to my house first, so we can visit before
I take you to the motel; that is, if you don’t mind visiting with your
cousin’s ex. It’s been ages since we talked and even longer since we saw
each other. No sense in your spending the entire evening out there
sitting in a room by yourself.”
He snorted. “I always liked you much better than I
did him.” He laughed at his understatement. “That'd be great. I wasn’t
looking forward to staring at four walls all evening. Getting
reacquainted sounds like an excellent idea,” he agreed, and walking
around to the passenger side, got into the seat.
She turned to him and introduced the child in the
car seat beside her. “Rodger this is my son, Jacob. Jacob, honey, this
is Rodger.”
Jacob didn’t say anything, of course; he just
looked at Rodger with big green eyes very much like his mother’s. The
last time he'd seen Sherry she wasn’t even pregnant and now she had this
little man. Rodger made googly eyes at him and was at last rewarded with
a giggle and a smile.
Back to Forbidden Love
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Not Good Enough |
Chapter 1
“Wow, look at the arms on that one.
And that hair . . . It’s just to die for, I tell ya.” Sheila
pointed out the man standing at the bar with muscular arms and
shoulder-length hair. “Or maybe that one,” she said, pointing to
a man seated at one of the tables across the dance floor from
them, wearing a three-piece suit. “I can smell the money on that
one.”
Trish followed Sheila’s pointing
finger as she directed her attention to the men around the bar.
All of them were either handsome hunks, or had the look of
wealth. Sheila downed another shot and chased it with gulp from
her fruity drink. From the glassy look in her eyes and her
slightly slurred speech, it was obvious to Trish she was getting
highly intoxicated.
“Don’t you think maybe you should slow
down on the drinks a little?”
“Naw, I’m okay. I’m not driving,” she
said, shaking her head slowly, “and I’m going to find a man for
you tonight yet.”
“Sheila, I don’t need a man. I just
got out of a relationship.”
“Relationship? Is that what you call
it? I call it slow death. You were with him since college.
Trish, Todd treated you like crap.”
“Not in the beginning, he didn’t.
Before I put on a little weight . . . and before the car
accident, things were different.”
Sheila rolled her eyes. “You look
fine, Trish. Maybe dressed a little conservative, in my opinion.
I mean, you have to put yourself out there, show a little leg
and cleavage if you want to reel in a man. Just look at me.”
Trish exhaled loudly in disgust. “I
told you, I’m not looking for one. The only reason I’m going on
this cruise is because you asked. And you say, look at you? Damn
it, Sheila, if that dress you’re wearing got any shorter . . .
well, it wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination. If it was
cut any lower, your boobs would be hanging out on display—and
how long did it take you to put on that makeup?”
Sheila ignored her. “Oh, damn, look at
that one. Geez, I wouldn’t mind wrapping my arms around that
one. Maybe even my legs, provided he has a lot of money.” She
giggled, hid a tiny belch and then added, “Look at the guys I’ve
been with compared to Todd.”
“Yeah, look at them. You’ve been
married three times. Just ended one, and you’re only—”
“Careful,” Sheila warned her off the
subject of age. “You’re older than I am.”
“I’m just saying that having been
married and divorced three times by your early thirties is not
exactly a good track record. Your life is not exactly a shining
example.”
“The first one couldn’t afford the
lifestyle I wanted. The second one tried to put me on a budget.
Screw him. The third one . . . the third one couldn’t satisfy my
other needs.”
“Imagine that. He was over twice your
age. I sometimes wonder why you and I are even friends. We’re so
different.”
“Ah, come on, Trish. You know you love
me. We’ve been friends since childhood.” She might have
continued, but just then a man stepped up to their table.
“Good evening, ladies. Would either of
you care to dance?”
Trish looked up at him. Although he
was dressed nice, it wasn’t a fancy suit. She cringed at some of
the flamboyant styles the hunks Sheila pointed out wore. No, he
was just dressed nice.
He had a pronounced widows-peak,
thinning hair cropped short, and a slight bulge in the belly
area. The man didn’t have bulging biceps, but his arms weren’t
skinny either. His eyes were just a little glassy, like
Sheila’s, indicating he’d had a few drinks, too. What really
grabbed her attention though, was the brilliant smile on his
face.
Just a normal guy with a wonderful
smile.
Then Sheila spoke, and his smile faded
into a frown. “Go away, fatso. You’re blocking our view of the
real men. You know, the ones that aren’t fat. The ones that have
hair . . . and muscles.”
He glared at Sheila “I was just
asking. There’s no need for insults.” Turning, he looked at
Trish. “And what about you, would you like to dance?”
“Loser,” Sheila sang out and made an L
on her forehead. “She doesn’t want to dance with you, fat boy.
You’re not good enough for her, either.” Sheila kicked Trish
under the table to insure compliance.
“Fine,” the man growled. “A simple no
would have sufficed.”
“Your kind don’t take a simple no. Now
go away.”
“My kin—” Without another word and
with a strong glare, the man turned and walked away.
“Geez, Sheila. Sometimes I’m
completely embarrassed to be with you. You’re downright mean at
times. After all he only asked us to dance.”
“The hell with him. He’ll get over it.
I’m over it. Besides, after tonight we’ll never see him again.”
Sliding her chair back, Trish excused
herself to go to the restroom, and as no surprise to her when
she returned, Sheila was out on the dance floor, her arms
wrapped tight around a Beefcake. She didn’t come back to the
table for the next dance, or the one after that.
Trish couldn’t help looking for the
man with the nice smile. Yep, there he was. Alone. She made eye
contact with him and gave him her best come hither look. With a
smile, she watched him get to his feet and start in her
direction.
This time I’ll do my own talking.
He came to a stop at her table.
“Where’s your rude girlfriend? I don’t think she likes me much.”
That winning smile stretched across his face once more.
“She’s right behind you,” Sheila said.
Neither of them had noticed her arrival with the Hunk in tow.
“And you’re almost right; I don’t like you at all. I thought we
got rid of you. Maybe you need a little physical persuasion.”
Turning to her muscle-bound companion,
she said, “Theo, this person, I refuse to call it a man, will
not go away. Perhaps you could convince him.”
Once again, the smile on his face
vanished. This time his frown was directed at her. Trish wanted
to slide beneath the table to escape the daggers his glare
focused on her.
For once in your life, Sheila, shut
your mouth.
“I was mistaken,” he said to her. “I
thought that you wanted to—Never mind.”
Turning to Sheila he grumbled, “I was
just leaving. I thought your girlfriend wanted to see me. Guess
I was wrong.”
Theo clamped his hand onto the man’s
arm. With a look of fury cold enough to make hell freeze over
and a voice so low it was nearly a whisper, he growled at Theo.
“Theo . . . if you value that hand . . . and don’t want it
broken . . . you’d better take it off my arm.”
Oh God. That’s all we need is a fight.
She could see in the man’s eyes that
the words were not an idle threat, but a promise. Now that she
was able to look closer, she saw that, though not bulging with
muscle like Theo, the man’s arms were very strong. His demeanor
screamed, Don’t mess with me. She hoped Theo would see it, too.
To her relief, Theo picked up the same vibes. He released his
grip on the man’s arm.
With a glance at her—frigid enough to
make her shiver, he walked away.
“Such an annoying person. See, I told
you his type doesn’t take no for an answer,” Sheila said.
She sat down beside Trish, and Theo
took a seat across from them. She introduced them. “Theo, this
is Trish; Trish, Theo. Theo has a friend, and the two of them
have invited us to an after-hours party in their room.” Leaning
over, Sheila whispered in her ear. “I’ve seen his friend. He’s a
beefcake, just like Theo. So anyway, how about it?”
She looked at Sheila and then at Theo
before whispering, “Sheila, Theo can’t be more than his early
twenties. He and his friend are probably looking for one thing,
especially from an older woman. I really don’t think we should
go.”
“He thinks I’m only twenty-five,”
Sheila whispered back and giggled.
Shaking her head, Trish said aloud, “I
think I’ll pass. I’m kind of tired. We need to get around early
tomorrow for the cruise.”
“Well, I’m going. See you later,
Trish,” Sheila huffed, clearly not happy with Trish’s decision
not to go with them. “Come on, Theo; let’s see if we can find
another girl to party with us.” With that, the two of them got
up and left.
Picking up her drink, she wandered out
onto the patio area and stood at the railing, looking up at the
stars.
Why I put up with Sheila I will never
know.
Glancing to her side, she saw the man
with the smile again. She started toward him to apologize, but
never got the chance. He spotted her at the same time, turned
his back and walked as far away as possible.
So much for apologizing for Sheila’s
bad manners. I’m sorry, she thought at him. Finishing her drink,
she left the nightclub and strolled back to her room. |
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Not Good Enough |
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