Dancing by the Shore: A Novella

By Donald J. Young

There is no available information at this time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 14, 2006
• ISBN: 9781469108315

Book preview

Copyright © 2006 by Donald J. Young.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by

any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the

copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual

persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

Order copies of the book from:

Viviane Helleux

1700 Cheryl Way

Aptos, CA 95003

35124

Contents

1     

2     

3     

4     

5     

6     

7     

8     

COMMENTS ON YOUNG’S NOVELS AND POEMS

THE LION’S SHARE

Thanks for the gift of THE LION’S SHARE, which I’ve read practically in one sitting with considerable admiration. The book is wonderfully readable. Paul Fussell, author of the classical study of war, THE GREAT WAR AND MODERN MEMORY.

Thanks for sending me your novel THE LION’S SHARE, which I have now read and enjoyed very much. You have a wonderful way with words and scenes. As Paul Fussel says, the book is wonderfully readable. Stephen E. Ambrose, author of CITIZEN SOLDIERS.

I liked your book (THE LION’S SHARE). It rings true. Only someone who was there could have written it. John Toland, author of BATTLE: THE STORY OF THE BULGE.

THE ASCENDING STAR

THE ASCENDING STAR is a thought-provoking, uncompromising tale—powerful in its complexity, eloquent in its lack of bitterness and irony in dealing with the dark side of our humanity. Morton Marcus, author, THE BREZHNEV MEMO.

THE SHORE OF THE UNKNOWN

John Dizikes, author of the prize-winning book OPERA IN AMERICA said he read the SHORE with continuous pleasure, adding, the poems are about friendship, love, the soul, the eternal subjects.

TOM’S WAR

The poems (in TOM’S WAR) have clarity, force, the feeling of a true and heartfelt report. Robert Pinsky, formerly Poet Laureate.

NEW VISTAS

Many thanks for sending me NEW VISTAS. I’ve been reading the poems with great pleasure. Stephen Greenblatt, author of the highly acclaimed book on Shakespeare, WILL IN THE WORLD.

FOR VIVIANE

For all her love and support

I want to thank my friends Marianne Stoll and Harry Card who gave me many excellent suggestions on how to improve my novella.

Cindy Gustafson was very innovative in preparing the book for publication.

Jenny Petter was the consummate artist who designed the book and created the excellent cover.

Greg Pio of Santa Cruz took the author photograph.

I am very grateful to the photographer, Chris Bratt, for his gracious permission to use, for the front cover, his beautiful photo, Pigeon Point Blur. His photographs of mountains, streams, and the sea have been shown in many exhibitions in Santa Cruz, throughout California, and recently in the Boston area. He reveals in his work an original view of nature, which resembles expressionistic painting at its best.

1     

She came toward him as if rising out of the fog-clouded picture window—a blur of colors: maroon hat, charcoal-dyed hair down to her shoulders; purple-tinted lashes; pink rouge on her doll-like face; hooped earrings, silver wrist bangles; her small breasts outlined by a short, unbuttoned jacket which draped over a thick, bronze belt; an opal stone tied to her bare navel; a pink skirt like a slip; her bare feet smudged by the rough floor.

Terry noticed a glazed look in her eyes as if she were having trouble focusing and he hoped she wasn’t on drugs. She might be in her late thirties or early forties, he figured—the makeup hardly masking any age lines. He liked being unsure of her age—she might remain uncertain of his.

The band was playing the old favorite, That’ll Be The Day, and taking him by the hand she led him to the dance floor where she moved in a surprisingly inventive way, which he tried to imitate or she spun artfully like a top in response to his moves, her face red with pleasure. She smiled at him—more as a reflex than a desire to please, he thought. As she danced in and out of his arms, her flowery jasmine perfume enveloping him, she pressed her breasts against him—which was only an accident of her dancing move.

They passed in front of the bandstand and Terry smiled at the bandleader, a tall, handsome, mustached sax player, who was accompanied by a short, bald, grinning guitar player; a weather-beaten, bearded, pale bass fiddler with a sour look and a tubby, babyfaced drummer who shook as he played, like he was having a St. Vitus spasm. The Seabreeze, as the band was called, a throwback from the 50’s, stuck with the