Nude Swimming

Nude Swimming

Fiction

Romance

Nude swimming is a collection of stories about love and romance in the lives of an eclectic group of individuals. From physicist Jack Joseph, caught in the space between his love for the beautiful Marilee and his famous General Theory of Non-Existence, to the manic Loonsfoot and his possessive love for Esther who has left him to be with a woman.

These short romantic fictions explore relationships from the extreme peripheral to the  intimate inside of affairs of the heart.

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Excerpt

Nude swimming is a collection of stories about love and romance in the lives of an eclectic group of individuals. From physicist Jack Joseph, caught in the space between his love for the beautiful Marilee and his famous General Theory of Non-Existence, to the manic Loonsfoot and his possessive love for Esther who has left him to be with a woman.

These short romantic fictions explore relationships from the extreme peripheral to the  intimate inside of affairs of the heart. 

The single thread that binds the stories together is our need for love, compassion and companionship in spite of our variances in ideas and ethics that separate us.

I want the reader to experience why a young Maggie Harrington, on the eve of her wedding to one man, surrenders her virginity to another.

Or what propels a self assured Rosemary to request her lover to  dominate her in a spanking episode. I am hoping, within the framework of these not so ordinary characters, to connect you as a reader to the not so ordinary conflicts that exist in your own relationships.

Lost Icons

Here I am, wasting time as I travel between multiverses. The most convincing argument I can make for who I am and what I’m doing is where I’m going. In the actual authentic world I’m sitting on this stool at the Highway King Diner on Fort Street between Twelfth and Plum, twelve miles from anywhere and plum nowhere, sort of a wormhole with food.

“More coffee?” the blond waitress said.

“Yeah, I’ve got big plans for the night ahead.”

“I wish I had some. Alright if I ask where you’re going?”

She had the face of a true innocent, she was in need, but didn’t know it. “I’m going to recover the lost icons and return them.

This world needs to be built on some rock. I mean real rock, rock and roll, not the crap that passes off for music these days.”

“You’re a record promoter?”

“No, the Grim Retriever.”

“Grim what?”

“The opposite of the Grim Reaper, he takes them, I bring them back.”

“You dig up dead musicians?”

“Yes, you could say that. John Lennon, Elvis, Janis, Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Harry Chapin. That’s all for this trip. But there’s more. Depends how far into the wormhole I want to go.”

“Who’s Harry Chapin?”

“You never heard of Taxi?”

I notice the waitress is a little cross-eyed.

“I’ve never rode in a taxi.”

“Maybe you should come with me then.”

“You’re going to bring them back in a taxi?”

“Yes, and you’ll get a double dose of taxi. Harry can sing it to you while we ride.”

Other than the unusual cross-eyed way she looked at you, the waitress was a woman like crystal, perfect in her dimensions. “Why would I want to go for a ride in a taxi to see a bunch of dead guys? Why bring them back in the first place?”

“Because nothing has a happy ending. Life ends badly, we grow up, we change, everything changes; we are gone.”

“That’s kind of sad,” she said.

“But icons, they last forever, they give permanence to what is temporary. I bring them back so for a while I can stop time and live beyond the moment.”

“I’m hip with everything being temporary. My boyfriend dumped me this afternoon, my car wouldn’t start and my dress size is up to a twelve. My boss said the only way I can get a raise is find another job.”

“I’ll give Harry a ring, we can go flying in his taxi, taking tips and getting stoned.”

She looked at me with her crossed eyes. Maybe it was the idea of flying and getting stoned. Maybe it was just the idea of doing something, anything but what she was doing. “Call us a cab, Retriever. There’s a pay phone next to the door.”

I dialed Checker Taxi and in minutes the familiar green and cream Checker cab with the sign on top was parked in front.

My ingenue stared as if she’d never seen a taxi before.

“That’s a real ugly car.”

A Checker cab would not be mistaken for a Ferrari. “This isn’t Back to the Future, this is Detroit, 1986, and it’s a taxi.”

She looked at me. I didn’t present well. I’m not clean shaven, there’s a coffee stain running down the front of my Detroit Tigers tee shirt and my eyes are a bit red and blurry. I’m thinking she’s gonna chicken out on me. “Are we going?”

“Yeah, hell yes, if it’ll get me a ride with John Lennon, I’m getting in.”

“Janis Joplin, too.”

“I’m no fan of Janis, but hey, you gotta Get It While You Can.”

We climbed in the cab. “Dearborn Music, Michigan and Military.

“We’re going to a music store?”

“That’s where the masters lie in state.” She was so young, fresh, unrestrained. But something ancient lives in all of us, and on this primary level we are even. “You were expecting something supernatural?”

“How old are you?” she said.

“Thirty-seven,” I answered with a twinge.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“In how many years?”

Her eyes slipped past mine. “Four years. But I like the idea of holding.”

“Holding?”

“Yeah, like you said, stopping time. Even if it’s just for a while.”

“How about for one night? He isn’t dead but I’ll throw in some Bob Seger, We’ve Got Tonight.”

“Do you have a place?”

“Do I look homeless?”

“Maybe.”

We are all homeless. But some of us don’t have a place to live. “I’ve got a room.”

She took my hand and held it. “Okay, you’ve got tonight.”

I had just cashed my last paycheck, paid my bills, bought new shoes for the kids. I won’t tell her about them, or the wife in the suburbs I’m separated from. We all keep secrets, remain a little hidden. But sometimes we all need to step out of what is real and into what we wish was real. Stop time, if just for a moment.

Alas! Poor Yuki

“Sweat Street: Justice in the Street”

Sweat Street is a gritty narrative that draws the reader in from the get-go. One minute you’re bouncing along on the rap-poem that opens the book, the next you’re holding your breath over Yuki, her rough-edged life and the dangers all around her. When she witnesses a killing and the bad cops have her on the run, she goes into hiding with a most unusual companion, and the two surprise one another (and themselves) with their degrees of involvement and the goodness at their centers. The story’s not for the faint of heart; it’s compelling, raw writing you can’t easily put down, nor easily forget.

– Donna D. Vitucci

A Love for Wolves Movitated Her Life

“Maggie Elizabeth Harrington”

This is a wonderful book, and I loved it! It has a second book in this series coming out soon! I have a special love and connection to wolves, and I strongly identified with this character Maggie. I think it’s such a tragedy that wolves in the past (late 1800s to early 1900s) have been killed off simply because of a bad rep. The truth is not one healthy wolf has ever killed a human. Maggie finds some wolf pups during the time when a bounty was put out for killing wolves for a reward. It’s the beginning of her role as wolf-protector as a young teen. It’s a beautifully written book, and the description told from the protagonist’s point of view is vivid and lyrical. I can’t wait for the next one. Check it out.


Detroit Dirty Fiction experience that will have you scratching right along ...

“Three Fingered Jack Davis”

DJ Swykert has given us another dark, at times poignant, at times raw to the bone, Detroit Dirty Fiction experience that will have you scratching right along with the addicts he so adeptly brings to life.

Swykert tells it like it is. He pulls no punches as he drags you into the hard hitting, nail biting, fight for life occurring daily on the mean streets of Michigan’s toughest city. DJ Swykert’s brilliant, “no quarter given”, look at the lives of real people fighting for their piece of the American pie is bound to move you in so many ways … it rattled my bones and I’m from Compton. JBB

Diswater blonde with a gun...

“The Death of Anyone”

If you’ve read a Swykert novel, you’ll know what to expect: vivid characters, great dialogue, and raw, titillating material. The author’s experience around police matters is obvious; the story’s details are authentic and believable.

Detroit detective, Bonnie Benham is driven powerfully to track down a brutal child rapist/murderer, all the while struggling with her own demons, and the effects of lost love.

There’s not a boring moment in the book, very fast-paced, no sag in the middle. Highly recommended!

Geoff

Awesome Story

“The Pool Boy Beatitude”

Wow! This book is so good! I couldn’t put it down.

Jack is an alcoholic. He disappoints everybody around him, especially his wife. She has had enough, and she wants a divorce. He finds himself homeless, penniless, and in dire need of a drink. He has hit bottom and can only go up, and forward. He finds himself facing a chance to rise up from the life he has known. Not one but two chances, both in different directions. But first he has to pay the price of his constant alcoholic state. What path does he choose?

This is such a good story. You’ll find yourself cheering him on, hoping he makes good choices. Don’t miss this one. It’s so worth the time it takes to read it. Great job.

Carole McKee

Modern Noir

“Children of the Enemy”

Children of the Enemy zips along at a quick clip due to a visually graphic, tension-filled plot that kept me turning “just one more page.”

But it’s the juicy characters that make the book sizzle. So many bad guys are featured that I found myself rooting for the least barbaric among them. Even the few good guys are willing to bend their morals and the law.

A bit of sex; a cast of miscreants motivated by greed, power, and vendettas; and a whole lot of violence–readers who like their novels roughed up and riddled with grittiness, will find it all in Children of the Enemy.

Sue Ann Connaughton

A Story that Won't Let you Go

“Alpha Wolves”

This is a story that won’t let you go. The hard lives these people live in a tiny mining town at the turn of the century is depicted very well. You can see everything clearly in your mind movie as you read the book. The book title was misleading. There were no alpha wolves in the story – just one wolf. If the author meant to portray two men as alphas, I didn’t find that. There were times the story was overwritten with repeated phrases and past memories. The ending was satisfying. I’d read a sequel.

Dawn Ireland

Romance in Bits and Bites

“Nude Swimming”

Voices of men propel these stories and flash fictions, and that’s a welcome perspective when it comes to romance. The title, Nude Swimming, is apt as the tales and, yes, the narrators’ voices flow over the reader like water; the women’s voices are even a tad subdued as if our ears are under water.

The tales criss-cross a range of time periods, from World War of the past and into the present of smart phone fascination. They amuse, they subdue, they talk blithely of sex and alcohol, as much as they render a mirror to the miscommunication in relationships. They are commentary. They are an escape.

Donna Vitucci

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