Summer Cowboy

By R.W. Clinger

Professional book critic Parker Rexx leads a mundane life in Pittsburgh. The only excitement he really has these days is his faltering relationship with boyfriend Kasey Lowman. Lately Kasey hasn't been paying attention to Parker, beginning the end of their romance.

Summer days are looking up for Parker ever since sexy cattle rancher Jobe Rider arrives. He’s staying through the end of August as he cares for his aged grandfather. Suddenly Parker’s life becomes very interesting.

Truth is, Parker can't stop watching the summer cowboy. As his relationship with Kasey crumbles, a fresh one flourishes with Jobe. Soon the two become heated lovers. Unfortunately, August is coming to a quick end. Will Parker be able to keep Jobe, or will he be forced to give up his summer cowboy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: May 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781634866422

R.W. Clinger

R.W. Clinger is a resident of Pittsburgh. He has a degree in English from Point Park University of Pittsburgh. His writing entails gay human studies, and includes the novels Just a Boy, Skin Tour, Skin Artist, Soft on the Eyes, Pool Boy, and The Last Pile of Leaves. He has published many stories with Starbooks Press as well as The Weekender, a novella with Dreamspinner Press. His gay mystery, Cutie Pie Must Die, is published with Bold Stroke Books. For three years he has held the position of managing editor for the literary magazine, The Writer’s Post Journal. For more information, please visit rwclinger.com.

Book preview

Summer Cowboy

By R.W. Clinger

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2018 R.W. Clinger

ISBN 9781634866422

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Summer Cowboy

By R.W. Clinger

Shelton Street becomes seeping hot and lazy in the small city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This year especially, but only when a certain man comes to town and gains my full interest. Listen…

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I become studious and learn a summer cowboy. This is what people—friends and relatives—think of me as I take on the juvenile task of watching Jobe Rider. It’s what I also think, but don’t tell anyone. He’s only temporary to the city, I come to understand, built rough, ch.0iseled, and thirty-six, maybe thirty-seven. Just adorable. Looks younger than what his physical age is. The kind of guy who smiles at me when I check him out from toes to head, and speaks kindly to, and of, others. He waves across the street. I wave back. He smiles. I smile back. The type of guy who seems humble, not really into himself, the opposite of arrogant, although he can be if he wants to, since he’s beautiful, studly, and charming. Tall as corn in August. Golden-blond like the finest crop. Nebraska or Oklahoma perfect. Just visiting for the summer; a few weeks. No more than four in all. So handsome, I can squeeze myself to death. Pop.

No one will believe me when I say, I can easily fall in love with the cowboy. Honestly, I can.

Sylvia, my mother, laughs at me. You act like a child. Stop the nonsense. He’s too handsome for you.

My Aunt Olivia calls me ridiculous. Voyeurism never got anyone a man. You’re wasting your time, Parker. Stop already.

Olivia’s two sons, Dean and Dave, my younger cousins, both think I should be institutionalized in a padded, white room.

I argue with them all summer long. Don’t you realize the cowboy across the street is my soul mate? Can’t you understand we are meant to be together? Isn’t it time you all think outside the box and let me fall in love on my own terms?

They all tell me I’m out of my mind, totally bat shit crazy.

Sometimes, I have to agree with them.

Frankly, something or someone with Harry Potter powers sends the summer cowboy my way. Jobe Rider is mine, I determine. All mine. He will become my boyfriend. I know he will. Mission on.

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The Keller family takes care of their ninety-five-year-old patriarch, Harold Lewis Keller. Nieces, nephews, his four sons, his three daughters, and a slew of grandchildren come and go, playing nurse to the geriatric. Harold refuses to spend the last days of his nine-plus decades away from Shelton Street in a nursing home. The old geezer gets free labor from his kids and other relatives, a barrel of them of numerous generations, expecting them to shift their lives around for him, which they all kindly do.

Some come from San Francisco where Harold was born and raised. There’s a daughter who lives in Seattle and flies cross-country to take care of him during the entire month of June. He has over twenty grandchildren spread across the States and some in Canada, all of which do their time on Shelton Street, playing nursemaid to the man, fulfilling their duty as a Keller member. Some stay for a few days. Others stay for weeks.

Camille, his youngest daughter, an operating room nurse, usually spends all of November and Christmas with him since she’s a spinster now and surprisingly catless. No matter what, Harold’s never alone. Some Keller is across the street, caring for the man, washing his bottom, feeding him mushy food, watching The Price is Right or The Young and the Restless with him, and executing all the other whatnots of his wrinkled world, fulfilling the obligation of the Keller clan, being a nursemaid, which perhaps is a curse.

Of course, Harold has professional and private nurses throughout the week, catering to his medical needs. Too-Tattooed Tetia arrives on Mondays, always grinning from ear to ear. Bitchy Estelle comes on Tuesdays. Chubby Jim on Thursdays. Wacky Wanda on Wednesdays. Catty Catherine on Fridays. And the Tempestuous Twins, Anne and Lynn Mayday—an ironic last name if I have ever heard one—take on the weekends. I have names for all of them, none of which are very nice. They check Harold’s vitals and do what nurses do. In and out they go like ants, busy at work. How interesting, yet mundane at the same time.

Umberto Umby Espinoza, the middle-aged queer, visits 287 Shelton Street every Tuesday and Friday afternoon. He stays for about two hours with Harold. Umby’s a physical therapist. He stretches the old man’s legs and arms, massaging their flabby and pale muscles. And he makes Harold take a short walk with him. The two men either walk around Harold’s Tudor or up and down the sidewalk.

Sometimes, Umby sees me on my porch and walks across the street to visit me. We sit for a spell and have a beer together, being reliable