Natasha in Nashville , livre ebook

4 Horsemen Publications, Inc. - Chastity Veldt

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34 pages

English

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Description

Things are getting naughty in Music City!

Standup comic Jake Nilsen finds himself in the heartland of country music Nashville. After stopping into the local club, Fries, he decides to explore what the city has to offer.

While enjoying lunch, he finds a curvy, songstress Natasha has a voice and heart of gold. Their lunch date is foiled, but Jake can’t stop being the hero and comes to her rescue.

Join us for another round in the sheets to come!

Sujets

contemporary

Erotica

Fiction

Informations

Publié par	4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Date de parution	15 novembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	2
EAN13	9781644501504
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0150€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Natasha in N ashville
Copyright © 2020 Chastity Veldt. All rights r eserved.

4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover & Typesetting by Battle Goddess Pro ductions
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used ficti tiously.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-150-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-644 50-151-1

Chapter 1
J ake closed the door to his hotel room, dropped his suitcase on the chair, and pulled the comforter off the king-size bed. He folded it up and stuck it by the door before picking up the phone and pressing 0 for the f ront desk.
“Hi, this is Jake Nilsen in room 615. I was wondering if I could get a fresh comforter , please.”
“Nelsan?” asked the front desk clerk
“No, Nilsen,” said Jake. “I just want to make sure it’s fresh a nd clean.”
“We’ll make sure it’s freshly laundered,” the clerk promised.
Jake unpacked his suitcase, carefully unfolding and hanging up his only sport coat, followed by his shirts and jeans. As a standup comic, Jake made sure to always take good care of his “work clothes,” which meant unpacking as soon as he arrived in a new city, and hanging everything up, including his jeans.
He also always requested a new comforter as soon as he arrived, because he had heard the horror stories about how infrequently the housekeeping staff changed the comforters, so he wanted to be sure there weren’t any unexplained dried fluids on his quilt.
It was early Tuesday afternoon, and Jake was in Nashville for a rare five-night gig at a comedy club called Fries. The club had put him up in a hotel on Broadway, just a few blocks from the club and the downtown Nashville bar scene.
Jake had been in Louisville two weeks ago, and this past week had spent a rare week off visiting an old friend from college in Bowling Green, Kentucky.
Rob and Jake had been on the University of Minnesota swim team together, and Rob was now a high school social studies teacher in Bowling Green and the school’s swim coach. Jake helped Rob coach the young swimmers during the afternoon and spent his mornings at a coffee shop near Fountain Square Park writing new material, or the evenings going to Bowling Green Hot Rod baseball games at the ballpark.
Jake’s week in Louisville had been spent in the bed of Lydia Woodruff, the manager of an art gallery as well as an outstanding artist. He bought one of her post-impressionist paintings, which was now crated up and secured in the back of his pickup. She had also sketched and painted a few nudes of Jake featuring his swimmer’s physique and toned abs, as well as his eight-and-a-half inch dick. Most of them were only half-finished and seriously wrinkled since Jake and Lydia usually ended up doing it on top of her sketch pad when she was half-finished with a sketch.
This week, Jake was supposed to middle at Fries as well as emcee the open mic nights on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. He hated emceeing open mics, but he preferred longer stays than just the one-and-done’s he had as an opener, so he asked his manager to book longer stays in cities, even if it meant emceeing the open mics. Plus they paid $50 per night, and he wasn’t too proud to listen to shitty comics for 100 bucks.
Jake had just finished putting his underwear and socks away when there was a knock at the door and one of the housekeeping staff delivered his new quilt. Jake tipped her a few dollars and closed the door. He remade his bed and decided to lie down for a quick nap before he checked in at the club to let them know he was there.

Two hours later, Jake was at Fries, knocking on the manager’s door, which was alr eady open.
“Hey there,” said the woman sitting at the desk. She stood up and offered her hand. “I ’m Cheri.”
“Hi, Jak e Nilsen.”
“Nelsan?” s aid Cheri.
“No , Nilsen.”
“Popcorn?” asked Cheri, holding up what looked like a tub of movi e popcorn.
Jake held up his hand and shook his head. “No , thanks.”
“We have a popcorn machine at the bar and I’m on this damn diet where I can only eat popcorn for lunch an d dinner.”
“Wow, I’ll bet that gets boring after a while,” said Jake.
“Yeah, and my farts smell lik e butter.”
Jake laughed and said, “That’s pretty good. Did you ever d o comedy?”
“For a while, but I got tired of life on the road. My husband and I decided to buy this place when the owner was sick and looking to sell. We got divorced a few years later. He got the dog, and I got the club.”
“Wow, that worked out pretty well for you.”
“Maybe. The dog may constantly lick his balls, but he isn’t a self-entitled dickhead who demands his own dress ing room.”
“I knew a comic l ike that.”
“A self-entitled dickhead? There’s lots of those.”
“No, he could lick his o wn balls.”
Cheri threw her head back and laughed. She high-fived Jake and said, “You win. That was good.”
“By the way, thanks for the hotel room. I managed to get a quick nap before I got here.”
“You’re welcome. I appreciate your flexibility. The headliner is a woman and I just don’t feel right forcing co-ed housing on you both. Besides, my cousin is the manager at the hotel, and she gives me free nights if they’re not ov erbooked.”
“Not a problem. I appre ciate it.”
“Besides, between you and me, the apartment’s a bit of a shithole and I’m having it fumigated before she gets here. Plus, she’s really obnoxious and I don’t like her that much, so I stuck her in there and gave you the hotel. But she draws a big crowd, so I keep having her back.”
“I’ve seen her work. She’s real ly funny.”
“ And. . .?”
“And yeah, she’s really o bnoxious.”
The two chatted for a few more minutes before Jake asked for some dinner recomm endations.
“There’s The Distillery Bar & Grill just around the corner, and they have some of the best burgers in town. Plus they’ve got live music in the af ternoons.”
“Seriously, th at early?”
“Well, it’s like our open mics. Young musicians can get their start at these bars, playing for free to tiny crowds. If the manager likes them, they’ll have them back for an opening act later in the evening.”
“That makes sense. So it’s a real hodge-podge of acts?”
“Yeah, and it’s a Tuesday, so who knows what you’re going to find.”
Jake thanked Cheri and left to g et dinner.

“Here you go, hun,” said the server, setting a hamburger and fries before Jake. “There’s ketchup on the table, and the music’s about to start.”
“Who’s playing?”
“I don’t know, some new girl. They’re usually only here for a day or two and then we never see th em again.”
“Hi, I’m Natasha Blake and this is my first time here,” said a woman from the small stage, her voice quavering. “I’ll be performing, uh, a few songs for y’all. Or, well, just you.” Natasha smiled at Jake and t he server.
Jake was the only one in the club, and he was seated right in front of the stage. He smiled at her. She was clearly nervous, so he tried to project an image of reassu ring calm.
Natasha slid onto a tall wooden bar stool and adjusted her guitar. Her hands shook a little as she played. She strummed a few chords and began to sing: “He said ‘I’ll love you till I die,’ she told him ‘You’ll forget in time.’”
Jake stopped, his hamburger halfway up to his mouth, and forgot to close it. Natasha may not have been as confident in her playing, but her gorgeous voice arrested him. Jake was not a country music fan, but his mother was and he immediately recognized George Jones’ “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” a song that sometimes made her cry. He set down his hamburger and listened, trying to hold back a tear or two of his own. He clapped wildly when she was finished.