Hello, my name is Andrew Joyce. I have a new book out entitled Bedtime Stories for Grown-Ups. It came about because my editor hounded me for two years to put all my short stories into one collection. Actually, it was supposed to be a two-volume set because there was so much material. I fended her off for as long as possible. I didn't want to do the work of editing all the stories. There were a lot of them. But she finally wore me down. Instead of tow volumes, I put all the stories into a single book because I wanted to get the whole things over with. I had other books to write!
Bedtime Stories is made up of fiction and nonfiction stories and some of 'em are about my criminal youth. I must tell you, I never though any of these stories would see the light of day. I wrote them for myself and them forgot about them. By the way, there are all sort of genres within its pages, from westerns to detective stories to love stories, an just about anything else that you can imagine.
There are a whole lotta stories in the book---700 pages worth. Enough to keep you reading for the forseeable future.
Anyway, Here's on the the shorter fiction stories from the book.
Everything's Jake: A Preview of Bedtime Stories for Grown-Ups by Andrew Joyce
It was early in the
morning when the man rode into town from the east, the sun at his back, his
long shadow before him. The street was deserted except for an old mongrel dog
sniffing its way home after a long night’s prowl.
He proceeded on the main
thoroughfare—the town’s only
thoroughfare—until he came abreast of the Blue Moon Café with its “WE NEVER
CLOSE” sign hanging from the ramada. Spurring his horse over to the hitching
post outside the café, he dismounted and entered the establishment.
At that time in the
morning, the chairs were on the tables, and the only occupants were a boy
sweeping the floor and a disheveled, overweight man behind the bar wiping a
glass with a dirty rag. The barkeep watched the stranger approach.
“How ’bout some
whiskey?” said the stranger.
When the barman was slow
in responding, the man grabbed his collar, pulled him down until he was bent
over the bar and their eyes were staring into each other’s.
“I said whiskey,”
growled the stranger.
“Yes sir, right away,”
was the barkeep’s quick response.
When released, with a
shaking hand he placed the glass he had been wiping on the bar, grabbed a
bottle from beneath the counter, and poured a liberal amount of an amber liquid
into it.
As he started to re-cork
the bottle, he was told to leave it.
“Yes sir.”
Turning his back to the
bar and placing his elbows thereon, he called to the youth doing the sweeping.
“Hey you, boy, come over
here.”
Placing his broom
against the nearest table, the boy did as he was bid.
“You got a name, son?”
“Yes sir. It’s Billy.”
“Well, Billy, do you
know a man by the name of Jake Tapper?”
“Yes sir.”
“Do you know where he
lives?”
“Yes sir.”
Reaching into his vest
pocket, the man withdrew a silver dollar and flicked it in the boy’s direction.
“You go tell Jake that Mac’s in town.”
• • • • •
Jake lay on his bed,
staring at the ceiling. It was much too early to be awake, but since she left,
he’d found it hard to sleep. It had been a heady eight months. He had never
loved a woman as he had loved Jeanie. Sure, it was taking a chance messing with
Mac Conway’s woman, but it had been worth it. Now that she had run off with
that piano player from the Blue Moon, he thought he’d just stop running from
Mac. Might as well get it over with,
thought Jake.
Then there was a knock
at his door. “Yes, who is it?”
“It’s me, Mister Tapper.
Billy Doyle.”
“Whatcha want, Billy?”
“A man down to the Blue
Moon told me to tell you that Mac is in town. I think he wants to talk to you.”
“Alright, Billy. You
tell him I’ll be right there.”
Jake packed his few
belongings and left the room. Instead of going to the Blue Moon, he went to the
livery stable and saddled his horse. Then he mounted and headed out of town as
fast as the beast could carry him.
It is one thing to think
brave thoughts in the seclusion of your room, but it’s another thing to face
Mac Conway in a saloon. Hell, it ain’t
healthy to face off with Mac anywhere. Now
that Jeanie’s gone, there’s no reason to git myself killed.
The next day Mac caught
up with Jake, and then went looking for Jeanie.
To purchase a copy of Bedtime Stories for Grown-Ups, visit Amazon and Andrew's website.
I LOVE this story! I assume there's a Jeannie story, too, and that it's also in the book? Because I'm real curious about what happened when--not if--Mac caught up with her. Being a woman, I hope she fried his butt!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ethan, for featuring such an entertaining guest!
Jeanie happens to be in "Bedtime Stories." Thanks for reading the post.
DeleteThanks for stopping in! It is always a pleasure to feature Andrew's writing.
DeleteThat's a lot of short stories in one book! But hey, I totally get what he means about having more stories that he wants to tell and not wanting to get stuck on two volumes of this!
ReplyDelete