Like Him With Friends Possess’d
Like Him With Friends Possess’d
by Allen Simmons-Cantrell
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-55-4
Editor: Doug Murano
Publisher: Belfire Press
Pages: 280
Dimensions: 5.25″x8″
Cover Price: $14.99
Order Direct: CreateSpace
E-book ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-57-8
Formats: html, js, mobi, epub, pdf, rtf, lrf, pdb, txt
Price: $2.99
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-56-1
Price: $2.99
Now available through CreateSpace, Amazon, Smashwords, Kindle.
Coming soon to Barnes & Noble, Nook, Diesel and Kobo.
Like Him With Friends Possess’d – Veronica Dorsett sacrificed her desire for a career in fashion design to marry Tom and raise their sons, Kenneth and Mark. When he selfishly destroys their family happiness, Ronnie is forced to adapt to major changes…
When a car accident lands TV star Paul Duncan on her doorstep, neither would guess they could form a lasting bond.
What begins as friendship between the two develops into love and the hope of a future together, but will the relationship last when their plans are interrupted by forces beyond their control?
What they’re saying about Like Him With Friends Possess’d:
Excerpt:
She stands before the bathroom mirror, gazing into the eyes of someone she no longer knows: a slight sag to the left eye, traces of crow’s feet beginning to surface, complexion no longer youthful. She scrunches her face into a fake smile, then relaxes several times, watching the lines emerge and fade. She isn’t that old, but she isn’t a kid anymore, either.
Everything has become routine—combing her hair, brushing her teeth, dressing herself—all done with simple, mindless motions. It seems so meaningless.
Who is the face staring back at her? Whose scorching eyes are those, so intently burning into her blank soul? She reaches to touch the cold, glass face, her finger tracing its outline. A tear runs down the stranger’s cheek and she wipes it away. But more follow, like a delicate waterfall, dripping soundlessly from the face. Powerless, she looks into the stranger’s eyes. How can she help that person escape?
She returns to her bedroom and crawls into bed with her book. Maybe the sonnets will help.
* * *
It had been almost a month since the boys left for college. The firm demanded more of Tom’s time, and Ronnie seemed to spend most of hers with Raleigh. Maggie wasn’t busy either, so Ronnie hadn’t had that many alterations to occupy her time.
She had sudden crying spells that came too often. If this was Empty Nest Syndrome, it was definitely for the birds. Tom wasn’t at all sympathetic, but good old Raleigh was always there to lend an ear, or paw. Ronnie decided it was true about the therapeutic values of pets, but Raleigh was more than that.
He’s my friend.
Today, a persistent late September rain beat against the windows of the back porch. Raleigh snuggled into the corner, keeping a watchful eye on both her and his chewy bone. Ronnie curled in the loveseat. It seemed a perfect day to relax with a cup of hot tea, a good book, and a blanket.
The squeaky brakes on the mail truck brought Raleigh to attention; the wild thump of his tail signaled Ronnie it was time get the mail. She tried to ignore him until he stood and poked his nose into her book, caused her to lose her place.
“You really don’t want to go out in this wet stuff, do you, buddy?”
At the mention of out he responded with even more ecstatic tail thumps. When Ronnie didn’t immediately acknowledge him, he trotted to the back door and barked, scratched at the door.
“All right. You drive a hard bargain.” Ronnie rose from the loveseat, slipped on a jacket and rubber boots, and opened the back door. Raleigh shot out and made a beeline for the road. Dampness compounded the chill of brisk air. Shuddering, she pulled up the hood to shut out the cold.
When she reached the mailbox, an impatient Raleigh barked and wagged. “What’s gotten into you? I know. Somebody sent us a check for a million dollars and you’re telling me to hurry and open it.”
Raleigh barked and hopped in place.
As Ronnie thumbed through the mail, a thick envelope fell to the ground. She picked it up, shook off the rain, examined the return address. “Who’s this from? P. Duncan. California.” Her excitement mounted. She bent to pat her wet, furry companion. “Oh, my gosh, Raleigh. How did you know?”
Ronnie hurried to the house, held the envelope close, shielding it from the rain. She couldn’t wait to get inside. As she opened the letter, Raleigh stood patiently, waiting to be dried. When she ignored him, he shook himself in a total body wave from head to tail, splattering droplets of water against the walls, an action she normally wouldn’t have ignored.
Her shaky hands finally held a letter written on thick, creamy linen paper.
She read aloud:
…I hope you’ll forgive any presumption on my part, but the ticket should make it possible for you to come meet with her—at your convenience, of course. Just call the number on the ticket packet. You’ll reach my Aunt Linda, who will take care of all the arrangements.
Have you taken any time for yourself? Perhaps this will encourage you to think about doing so.
I read often through the book of sonnets and they remind me of you. I hope this letter finds all well. How is Raleigh? Give him a couple ear rubs for me. I bet the goats have grown. I can’t wait to see them again.
I hope you’ll seriously consider the offer. You are a very talented artist and should be recognized. Hope to hear from you soon.
Haply I think on thee…
Paul
“Raleigh, he wants me to go to California! They like my sketches. What do you think about that?” Her squeals of joy brought enthusiastic barks.
Ronnie fixed another cup of tea and settled back into her niche on the porch. Dazed, she reread the letter several times. She clasped it to her chest and dozed. She awoke with the sunset. Gathering her things, she went to her room, tucked Paul’s letter and the ticket into her dresser drawer before changing into a pair of overalls. The animals were probably hungry.
Leave your response!