Chances Are

By Lee Brazil

Meet Chance:

"I'm Chance, this is my place. You want me; this is where you can find me."

The problem with that, of course, was that it wasn't my name. My name was actually Aaron Dumont.

I picked up the name Chance as a kid when my grandma kept telling me "Chances are you'll come to no good, just like your pa." She had said it so often, it just kind of stuck. I've been Chance ever since. When she passed away and left me the remains of her estate, I sold everything but a few special items then invested it all in a nest egg for a rainy day.

I figured that's what she'd intended it for anyway. She'd said as soon as I joined the police force back in the eighties. "Chances are you'll come to no good there. It's a dangerous job and you're an accident waiting to happen."
She was right too.

E

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Brazil
• Release date: Jan 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301340989

Lee Brazil

Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it’s nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don’t belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don’t fit?Then turn the page and see... there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are...beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it’s why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it’s why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I’d had my way, I’d have been a fencer...or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that’s the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn’t learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college...teaching...or writing.

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Pulp Friction Presents

Chances Are

Chances Are #1

By

Lee Brazil

Copyright 2013 by Lee Brazil

Smashwords Edition

Acknowledgement

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. As such, any resemblance to any persons, living or deceased, businesses, events, or locales is coincidental.

Cover Art by Laura Harner

Editing By Jason Bradley

Copyright 2013 by Lee Brazil

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Dedicated to Laura Harner who had the brilliant idea that inspired me to try something new. You're a fabulous friend and an even better writer.

To Tom Webb for all the encouragement and sprints that got us through this.

To Havan Fellows for always being there for me...sounding board, coach, critique partner, jump starter...there's no end of the things you do for me!

Chances Are

It was as far as he could go.

Green eyes. I kept my own eyes slitted just barely open to allow me to look down at the guy on his knees in front of me so I could remember his eyes were green, not blue. I needed to know the hair coiling around my fingers like silk was blond not black, that the lips clamped around my dick were full, lush and red, not a narrow slash of pink.

If I closed my eyes, the golden tan would fade to pale white skin, the round jaw turn to carved marble, and it would be him, Dr. Cannon Malloy, on his knees, the hot inexperienced fumbling of his tongue turning me on so much that I orgasm in seconds.

Can't have that. No, it was better to keep in mind that the lush heat surrounding me was the new guy, the rookie. He was a good looking kid, and this was his first night at my place, the Chances Are bar. Doesn't matter. I had a thing for uniforms, and a thing for blonds. The uniform thing was probably because in my old life I used to wear one. That life ended the same night I met Cannon, the night I got shot. The blond thing I also owed to Cannon.

And fuck him for being there in the backroom of my bar with me while this rookie with shining green eyes sucked me off. The metal tongue stud, definitely not uniform regulation when I was on the force, took me by surprise when it slapped against the tip of my cock, causing me to jerk. The rookie grunted in satisfaction. He had my full attention now. Not because he was gorgeous, but of