Good Faith by Liz Crowe releases in e-book and print on November 15, 2013
Good Faith (Advanced Excerpt)
by
Liz Crowe
That morning his father had roused him from a sound sleep. He’d
blinked, confused, by the angle of the sunlight. He rarely slept much
past eight since he usually had some sort of training or the other.
“Let’s go son. Time for lunch.”
Brandis had dragged himself up, his limbs feeling like they weighed
a thousand pounds each. His brain buzzed with a strange sort of energy,
his typical state, and not at all welcome considering it normally didn’t
hit him until later in the day. The conversation his father began as
soon as they were seated at their usual diner did not help.
“So, listen, Brandis. These girls…Katie’s friends from college….”
Brandis sipped his ice water, waiting for his father to finish the
thought. His heart pounded, and his face flushed hot with embarrassment.
Jack sighed, as if exasperated that Brandis didn’t pick up the thread
on his own, leaving him to carry on with the awkwardness about to ensue.
Then he leveled his gaze, his face open, not angry or judgmental. “I
think that you may be in for some…I mean, they’re…shit.”
“If you are gonna tell me where babies come from again,” Brandis
said, after deciding to ease his father’s obvious distress. He cocked
an eyebrow and half a smile. Jack seemed to relax somewhat as Brandis
continued. “Don’t bother. I already know.”
He flashed his brightest smile up at the middle-aged woman who stood
at their table, coffee pot in hand. She blinked rapidly at him, and
at that precise moment, Brandis got his first flash of…something…about
his power. Up until now he’d merely been “Brandis the trouble maker,
the causer of strife.” Suddenly, he felt strong, amazingly so,
stronger than even the man sitting across from him, a taller, older
version of himself. His body tingled all over, as he tested the smile
out again on the woman, making her slop some coffee out onto the table.
His father frowned, but then chuckled as the woman walked away after
they gave their orders.
“Son,” he said, leaning back and cradling the coffee mug to his
chest. “Your adventure has only just begun.”
“Huh?” Brandis picked up his cup but didn’t drink any. He hated
coffee, but had ordered it in a burst of need to be more like Jack.
As he sipped the bitter stuff, he was transported back years before
when he and his dad would spend every single Saturday morning together,
eating breakfast at this very diner. He had adored the man, he remembered
distinctly. His chest hurt at the simplicity of their relationship then.
He looked away from Jack’s deep blue, knowing gaze.
The subject changed of its own accord, and Brandis let it. Although
part of him wanted to ask for advice, a much bigger part would not allow
the words past his lips.
They ate, discussing the upcoming football season and Brandis’
part in it. The recruiting company Jack had contracted last year to
video his every move would start up with the first game. He’d made
varsity again, technically as backup quarterback to a senior boy. Brandis
didn’t see this as a setback and had every intention of starting under
center by the second or third game.
Finally, when they pushed their empty plates back and sat looking
at each other, Brandis felt more comfortable in his father’s presence
than he had been in a long time. Jack said, “I am pretty sure at least
one of those girls sleeping in the basement is determined to change
the status of your virginity for you probably as soon as tonight.”
Brandis choked on the last sip of lukewarm coffee. His face burned,
and his body tingled again. “I’m…it’s…uh….” He clutched
the napkin in his lap unable to meet his father’s eyes.
“No need to say anything. Let’s just say your mother is an astute
reader of female intent. While I was busy admiring your sister’s friend’s
ass, she apparently read the girl’s mind or something.” Brandis’
face flushed even hotter.
He resisted the urge to protest, to proclaim his innocence of such
things. Because he wanted it back—those mornings between them, father
and son, man and boy, not this awkward, man and almost-man bullshit.
Because while the thought of one of his sister’s college friends popping
his cherry remained a pleasant fantasy, it also made him feel older
than he wanted to be right then.
“So, I bought a box of condoms this morning,” Jack went on. “Put
some downstairs in the side table drawer and the rest in your room.
Use them please.” He sipped the last of his coffee, looked as if he
were about to get up, then leaned forward, touching Brandis’ wrist.
“Have fun. Don’t be an asshole to women. Let every experience teach
you…something. Because you are nothing as a man if you don’t learn
from every woman you…love.” Jack looked out the window onto the
nearly empty parking lot. Then he turned back, tightened his grip on
his son’s arm. “God, you are so…young.” His face fell a moment,
then he perked up again, his eyes twinkling. “Okay, so, your mother
told me to tell you not to let them corrupt you. But all I’m gonna
say is this: always wear protection, no matter what, no matter how much
you don’t want to. And don’t let your mom catch you in the act.
I’ll handle her otherwise.”
Then he let go, stood and smiled, draping a friendly arm around Brandis’
shoulders as they exited the restaurant.
“You really didn’t tell me you were admiring Katie’s friend’s
ass, did you, Dad?”
“No, son. I most certainly did not. You obviously misheard me.”
Jack winked as he stood by the passenger’s side of his classic Corvette
convertible and tossed the keys to Brandis. “Remember what I told
you. Don’t ride my clutch.”
About Liz Crowe
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert,
mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major
college town. She has decades of experience in sales and fund
raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing
spouse. While working as a successful Realtor, Liz made the leap into
writing novels about the same time she agreed to take on marketing and
sales for the Wolverine State Brewing Company.
Most days find her sweating inventory and sales figures
for the brewery, unless she’s writing, editing or sweating promotional
efforts for her latest publications.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to
a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,”
which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in
the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).
More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her
latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining
very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries,
on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and many times
in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told
with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader
seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters
that will delight, frustrate, and linger in the imagination long after
the book is finished.
If you are in the Ann Arbor area, be sure and stop
into the Wolverine State Brewing Co. Tap Room—but don’t ask her
for anything “like” a Bud Light, or risk serious injury.
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