Daring Decisions

By Dorothea Gordon

Readers find themselves on a riveting journey through the intricate tapestry of love, betrayal, and the courage to make daring decisions in this emotionally charged novel, "Daring Decisions." Lotti Seidel, a seasoned court-qualified handwriting expert in Victoria, B.C., thought she had it all until a shockin

• Language: English
• Publisher: DLGordon Productions
• Release date: Nov 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9781738143528

Book preview

Praise for Daring Decisions

This book beautifully describes the complexity of human sexual relationships and the pain and joy they can bring. It is rich with well-developed characters who touch the reader’s heart.

G.R., Victoria BC

Growing older doesn’t mean being less active or attractive, in every sense of those words, especially when one lives in Victoria, Canada. Lotti, nearing sixty, voluptuous curves intact, curiosity well-developed, long divorced, children grown, is now ready to explore her sexuality with men who adore her. Right up to the final daring decision, there are a good many unexpected twists and turns before Lotti finds her dream ending. I enjoyed this book from beginning to end.

Karin Clark, author, teacher, artist, publisher, Union Bay, BC

It is a good story that pulls you in and takes you on an adventure of emotion and logical analysis. The chapters concerning her young lover are delightful and full of elegant eroticism. I enjoyed the tourist guide to Vienna and Florence and the various sites in Canada. Very captivating descriptions making me pine for travel.

Zoe Duff, author, publisher, Victoria, BC

The woman in this story is trying to live her life as best she can. I often found her adventures very relatable, but there are also new perspectives. In every part of the book, I was wondering what would be happening next. Definitely worth the read.

A. K., Victoria BC

Daring Decisions

Dorothea L. Gordon

Daring Decisions

Dorothea L. Gordon

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2023 by Dorothea L. Gordon (5.25 x 8 edition)

Published by DLGORDON Productions

www.dlgordon.ca; [e-mail]

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Book Cover Design by 100 Covers

ISBN: 978-1-7381435-0-4

Please feel free to leave a review about this book on Amazon or Goodreads. Or send it directly to me: [e-mail] and I will post it. Thank you!

Lotti’s story will continue in the forthcoming release Unseen Forces.

I dedicate this book to Lawrence JW Cooper, husband extraordinaire, and former Poet Laureate of the Comox Valley, with deep gratitude and love.

Prologue

Freiburg, Germany

April 1970

Her head had been buzzing like a beehive all day and she didn’t really feel like going out. Lotti was tired from studying for hours, but she’d promised to tag along with her roommate Gloria to see what all the fuss was about. Rumor had it a fantastic new disc jockey was playing the latest hits at the El Dorado Disco, a popular hangout for Freiburg’s university students.

Lotti loved her life in this historically rich city in the Black Forest. But she also loved dancing and men. In her opinion, the week was for brain activities, the weekend for body explorations. Why not take advantage of this brand-new era of sexual freedom which was evolving for her generation of women was her attitude?

When the young ladies arrived at the disco, the place was already hot and crowded. The darkness, noisy background music, and spinning lights overhead hit their senses and added to the frantic atmosphere. They could smell alcohol and sweat as they were squeezing through the masses, desperately looking for a table near the still-empty dance floor. All the chairs were occupied. The two friends resigned themselves to leaning against the wall, when they noticed an empty little table in a corner and rushed over to claim it.

Not a good strategic spot when you’re out man-hunting but lucky nevertheless, said Lotti, and folded her attractive tall body into a chair. It exposed her long legs to her advantage. It’s Saturday night and half the student bodies are out and on the move. Adjusting her slinky black-and-white mini dress, she made sure her bra strap wasn’t showing on her bare shoulders.

Gloria, a pretty brunette, nodded, surveying the area before she sat down. You’re right, nobody can see us here, but we have a good view of the door. Ah, I spy a few types from my chemistry class coming in. I may just seduce the handsome lab assistant to dance with me. You can sit here and look pretty.

Lotti knew Gloria was jealous of her good blonde looks, so she chose to ignore the stinging remark. Wonder what the cat will drag in tonight, she said instead, I want someone to feast my eyes on; you know, sexy and gorgeous. And, smart, of course. As she was saying that three handsome fellows came through the door and stood there, checking out the place. Ah, now, those types look promising. See that tall one with the jet-black hair? There are muscles rippling under his shirt. I like the way he stands, almost regal. The blond one is kind of cute but too short for me. The curly-haired guy looks academic, and I like his luscious lips. Which one strikes your fancy, Gloria? Lotti strained her neck to see better.

Forget it, Gloria said impatiently. There’s so much competition, they won’t even notice us here in our corner. She shrugged her shoulders and readjusted her blouse to show more cleavage. I’m going to get something to drink. What do you want?

Lemonade, please.

The three handsome fellows had disappeared into the crowd, and Lotti kept scanning her environment for potential dance partners. She could see a few guys smiling at her. The one with the round glasses looks promising, she thought. Lotti smiled back at him and licked her lips. He leaned over to his pals and said something.

Gloria appeared with the lemonade bottles, swinging her hips to attract attention to her super short ‘hot pants’ outfit. Just then the DJ announced he was opening up the dance floor. He put on the Rolling Stones who could ‘get no satisfaction’ and a crowd of dancers surged forward to claim their spaces on the dance floor almost knocking Gloria over.

Lotti felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up and stared right into the face of one of the three handsome musketeers, the regal one with the black hair. There was something slightly exotic about his features, bronzed skin, high cheekbones, hooded bright-blue eyes. She had never seen him before, yet she felt an instant familiarity.

May I have this dance? he asked in English rather than German. Lotti was so surprised, she couldn’t speak for a moment. Yes, of course, she managed to say and got up. Gloria pushed her with her elbow and said in German, Go on, you lucky cow!

On the way to the dance floor Lotti asked, How did you know I can speak English?

The fellow smiled, revealing beautiful teeth. You look intelligent, and many young people in Germany can speak decent English. My name is Joe. I’m from Canada.

Lotti felt weak in the knees. Is this for real that this gorgeous guy has chosen me for his first dance, she thought, and noticed the buzzing in her head had stopped. I’m Lotti, I’m from Stuttgart, she shouted over the noise. I notice you have a French accent. Are you from Quebec?

Joe stopped for a moment and stared at her. You’re right, he shouted back, I’m from Quebec City. I’m a medical doctor on the military base in Lahr.

I’m a psychology major here at Freiburg University.

Making conversation during the dance was useless because of the noise. So, they left it at the introductions and moved their bodies with the music. When the DJ finally slowed down the tempo with ‘Song Sung Blue’, Joe put his hands on her back, and she put her arms around his neck. Lotti felt a tremor go through her body and the colour rise in her face. She didn’t usually have that kind of physical reaction. Touching each other felt like the most natural thing to do. She could have stayed in this position all evening.

Joe was tall and well-built, and Lotti could indeed feel defined muscles under his blue cotton shirt. Other girls were staring at him, and she hoped he wouldn’t just thank her for dancing with him and then leave and ask someone else. For some strange reason she wanted him all to herself. After a few more slow dances, Joe took Lotti’s hand, and they squeezed through the crowd back to her table. Fortunately, Gloria had disappeared which would give Lotti a chance to spend more time with Joe. He pulled out the chair for Lotti and sat down next to her.

I’m really thirsty with all this dancing and the heat. She reached for her lemonade bottle and emptied it in one draft.

Can I fetch you some more lemonade or would you like some wine or beer? Joe asked.

Lotti opted for Perrier water, and Joe went off to get it. She took the opportunity to check herself in her hand mirror and apply some more lipstick. Can’t look good enough for a gorgeous bloke like that, she thought. This corner location is turning out to be a blessing in disguise, perfect for conversation. She looked around for Gloria and could finally see her dancing wildly with the sexy lab assistant.

Sorry it took so long, said Joe, carefully putting a glass and the Perrier bottle in front of her. He had chosen wine for himself. There was a bit of a lineup. He sat down on Gloria’s chair, and Lotti hoped her friend wouldn’t come back for a long time. She thanked him, took a sip, and then asked him in her direct German way, What made you come to Germany?

He turned his chair so he could look straight at her. The military posted me to Lahr because they needed a replacement for one of the regular doctors at the base. He’d been in a serious accident and may take a year to recover. In the meantime, I get to enjoy this beautiful area. It sure is prettier than Petawawa where I worked before. He rolled his eyes. I’ve only been here for two months. I really want to see a lot more of this area. Joe took a sip from his wine glass and looked at Lotti with unabashed admiration. She noticed and felt herself blush.

Also, my mother mentioned her grandfather was from this region, he continued. His name was Hermann Pfleiderer. Sorry about my poor pronunciation. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone by that name? He pulled out a pen and wrote it on the coaster.

So, his blue eyes could be from the Pfleiderer side, Lotti thought. No, sorry, she said, I don’t, but I do know it’s a common name in this region. You could check old church registries if you’re keen to know.

You’d have to help me a bit, though. I don’t know any German. His sweet smile made him look irresistible, and her heart started doing somersaults.

We’ll see. Tell me more about your Hermann Pfleiderer great-grandfather.

My mother told me he was a blacksmith, Joe said, adjusting his tall frame on the chair, who immigrated to Canada in the late nineteen-hundreds and settled in Quebec because he was able to find work there. He married an Indigenous woman from an Ojibwa tribe and had seven children. My grandmother is one of them.

Lotti’s curiosity was piqued. Here was someone truly fascinating compared to the ‘same old, same old’ types she usually met. What about your father?

My father’s father was third generation French, and he married a Mi’kmaq woman. That makes me Métis. When Lotti raised her eyebrows, Joe explained, Métis are people of mixed European and Indigenous ancestry, and one of the three recognized Aboriginal peoples in Canada. That’s why I look like an Indian, except for my blue eyes, of course. My two brothers look more Caucasian. He pulled a battered photo out of his wallet and leaned over towards her, brushing her arm with his. Her body reacted instantly, like she’d put her hand into an electric socket. She tried to cope with her unexpected reaction while Joe was explaining who everyone in the picture was. His eyes were full of tenderness.

You’re the most handsome one of this bunch, she said and noticed a slight blush creeping up under his dark skin.

"What about your family?" he said, obviously trying to distract her.

Not nearly as interesting as yours, she said in perfect French. My father is a construction company manager and my mother worked as a cook in a restaurant before she stayed home to raise us four children, two boys and two girls. We get along most of the time. I’m the eldest and most adventurous.

Those blue eyes stared at her in awe. Where did you learn such good French? It sounds better than mine.

I had French in grammar school, and I often went to France on summer student exchanges, Lotti said. In Europe you aren’t considered educated unless you speak at least two or three foreign languages. Your French sounds very different from Parisian French. I’ve never heard that accent before. I guess it’s the old kind the settlers spoke when they first came to Canada in the 17th century. I like the way you speak, though, she said with a shy smile, watching his face light up. They raised their glasses and drank to the beauty of the French language.

Lotti could tell Joe was smitten by the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. Now he was moving even closer; she could feel his thigh touching hers. She wondered if he could detect the shivers running through her body. Best to distract herself and return to the safety of their mutual discovery conversation.

My mother is from Bavaria and met my father during the war in an army hospital where she had to work in the kitchen. He was a patient there with a bad spinal injury which, to this day, makes him irascible and unpredictable. Both my parents are very intelligent, but there was no higher education available for them when they were young. So now they want to realize their dreams through us children. They never let me forget how lucky I am. By the way, education is free in Germany.

Joe gaped at her in disbelief. Really? I had to join the military and had to commit to years of service to get my education.

What made you go into medicine? Lotti wanted to know.

Joe leaned back in his chair and brushed his hand through his short hair. When I was young, I had pets who sometimes got sick. I felt so helpless and wished I could do something for them. Then my grandmother developed cancer, and I had to watch her die a slow and painful death. That’s when I felt a real desire to study medicine to help prevent suffering or at least, ease it. Medicine runs in my family. My father is a dentist and my mother’s brother a medical doctor but also a shaman.

When Lotti raised her eyebrows, he explained, It’s an ancient healing tradition where the practitioner interacts with the Spirit World to treat someone who has a sickness which can’t be cured with conventional medicine. It’s common in many Indigenous peoples.

Wow, that’s fascinating. I could use that in my field as well. Lotti told him about her dream of becoming a psychotherapist and that she was working on her master’s degree. Joe asked why she had chosen that particular career, and she reflected for a minute, drawing small circles on the table with her fingers.

Similar reasons as yours, she said. "I guess I want to help others get through their emotional pain faster and not have to drag it around with them, like people did here after the war. Even at a young age, I intuitively recognized suffering around me: women having lost their husbands, children their father, men returning from the war with outer and inner wounds. In my own family we lost quite a few men.

Lotti sighed and said this was getting too morose, she wanted to dance again. Back on the dance floor, Joe went over to the DJ and talked to him. The music slowed down and Lotti and Joe moved towards each other, drawn like magnets, dancing cheek to cheek. Lotti felt safe in Joe’s arms and gave herself over to momentary bliss.

After a while they returned to their table, and Lotti asked, What did you say to that DJ?

Just that my girlfriend had a sore foot and couldn’t dance so fast. Could he play slower tunes? And then I passed him a ten-mark bill. They laughed, and Joe put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She liked the way he smelled, somewhat herbal. And that he was also shrewd.

During their conversation, they discovered common interests and similar values. Joe said, I really love being out in nature, hiking, swimming. We have many wonderful lakes in Quebec, but the mosquitoes can be a downer. Swimming is one of my favourite sports, I’ve even won some prizes. He looked slightly embarrassed about this intimate confession.

That’s where he gets his muscles and toned physique from, she thought. We have nice lakes here too. The Titisee and the Schluchsee are very popular. And not too many mosquitoes. You should check them out. There are also great hikes in the Black Forest where you can get cuckoo clocks more cheaply than in shops. Lotti asked what kind of music Joe liked and they found their musical backgrounds were quite different. Joe was keen to know about Lotti’s tastes.

I grew up having to listen to German folk music, classical music, operas, and operettas until pop music arrived in Germany with Elvis Presley and then the Beatles. Their sound drove my parents to distraction, and we children could only secretly listen to our beloved tunes. My father called them ‘monkey music’. Lotti shook her head, relating the scenarios at her house. Joe laughed and agreed she had suffered great deprivation.

All of us children had to learn to play an instrument. I picked the accordion because I like waltzes and polkas. Lotti blushed, but Joe clapped his hands and exclaimed his delight.

I love the accordion, it’s very popular with our French music in Quebec. I grew up in Quebec City which has a symphony orchestra, but my family preferred folksy tunes. We often went to barn dances in the countryside where they play fiddles and accordion. Not too sophisticated but very uplifting. In a way I regret not learning to play an instrument.

Lotti was blown away by Joe’s stories and could have spent all evening hearing about Canadian history and Joe’s family. Unfortunately, after what seemed like only minutes, his buddies showed up and told Joe they had to head back to Lahr to meet curfew. Did he want to come along with them or stay?

Joe took Lotti’s hand and looked deep into her blue eyes. Ok, I guess I must leave, but I really, really enjoyed your company, Lotti. Would you like to get together again?

Yes, of course, she said, pleased by his invitation. When and where? I don’t have a phone at my place. We’d have to go through my landlady’s phone, and she’s not all that nice.

Joe stood up. How about here again next Saturday at seven? Would that work for you?

She realized she wouldn’t be able to go back to her parents’ house for the weekend to do her laundry, but Joe’s company would be so much more exciting. Yes, of course, I’d love to meet you again. Saturday at seven, right here. Maybe we can get the same table again.

Her disarming smile had a powerful effect on Joe. He pulled her up and, in the French-Canadian way, kissed her on both cheeks. I’m so glad I met you. Thank you for this lovely time. I really can’t wait to see you again next week.

His buddies were rolling their eyes at his public display of affection.

Yes, I enjoyed meeting you, too, Joe.

He finally let go of her hands. When he arrived at the door, he turned around and blew her a kiss.

Other fellows came and asked Lotti to dance, but while her body went through the motions, her mind was miles away from the dance floor. It was reliving the time she’d just spent with Joe. Would she really see him again? She was torn between what her mind was telling her and what her heart wanted. The latter wanted