The Importance of Setting. Location, location, location
Tirgearr Publishing opened its doors on 29 February, 2012, Leap Day.
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One Year Anniversary Celebration – Kindle eBook Sale
3-9 March, 2013
Several people have asked if I intend to write a sequel to The Ninja Tattoo. When I wrote it, I intended for it to be a stand alone book. Then someone demanded a sequel. So, I got to thinking about where Teague would go next. What would he do? How would he best put his talents to use? I came up with this idea and started writing on it today — 1/ 6/ 13.
I don’t know if it’s a novel, but it’s sure going to be a short story or possibly a novella. We’ll see! Here’s a taste.
Late summer sunshine streaked through the drapes over his bedroom windows. A white hot beam lanced his eyes, making him tear up and flinch away.
“No more tequila,” he groaned, rolling away from the assault on his retinas.
A soft, warm body next to him grunted slightly and one hand rose to shove him away. Teague laughed, kissing the blankets over her head, before getting up. He closed the blinds all the way and went to the bathroom. The bedroom clock told him he’d slept far longer than he intended.
“Time is it?” the muffled female voice grumbled.
“No, baby. Afternoon.”
“Shit!” A tousled brunette head emerged suddenly from under the blankets. “Shit, shit, shit! I have an appointment with the caterer!”
“That’s tomorrow, babe. It’s Sunday.”
Groaning, Vivica flopped on the bed, holding her head with both hands. “I hate sunlight. I hate Jose Cuervo….” She pulled a pillow over her face.
“You hate me too?” Teague crawled on the bed, straddling her.
Vivica put the pillow aside. “You’re the only thing I don’t hate.”
“Good, cause I’d sure hate for you to hate me.” He took her hands, stretching them above her head as he kissed her.
“Someone woke up happy,” she giggled.
“Nope, woke up with a hell of a headache, but you woke up – so now I’m happy.” He kissed her again, letting his lips drift to her shoulder.
“I can tell,” Vivica remarked as his lean, hard muscled body covered hers. “I need to pee.” She shoved at his chest, rolling from beneath him.
“Go pee and come back naked,” he said as he let her up.
Vivica winked provocatively at him before going in the bathroom. Teague divested himself of his pajama pants and threw back the covers. He was primed and ready when Vivica returned. She wore his old Army T-shirt and boy cut panties. He had those off her before she’d fully settled on the bed.
“Someone’s hungry,” she remarked as he stroke her breasts with both hands.
“I’m always hungry when you’re around.”
It was obvious Teague didn’t want to talk at the moment. Truth be told, neither did Vivica. The months they’d been together had been the best of her life.
Teague was a good man, thoughtful and kind. He was handsome and well built and knew what he was doing in bed. Considering the men she’d had in her life up until she met him, she counted herself lucky in every way possible.
His cellphone rang. Groaning, Teague reached for it. He knew who it was before he answered. He had a special ringtone for that particular caller. Trouble was, he knew she’d call back until he picked up. Better to get it over with.
“Don’t you even say hello?”
“Not when it’s you. What do you need?” He flopped on his back, excitement replaced by anger.
“This is important, Sergeant.”
“I gave that rank back, ma’am.”
“Don’t be obtuse, McMurtry. I need your help.”
“I’m a civilian now, Lieutenant. If you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of something.” He moved to hang up.
“Teague, wait! Please.” Her voice broke.
His hand hovered over the off button. Sighing, he put the phone back to his ear. “I can’t do this again, Rachel. Last time we talked wasn’t pretty.”
“Last time we talked, you walked out on me. This isn’t about me. It’s about Nadeya.” Her best friend.
Teague pulled the blanket over his naked body, holding the phone tightly in his left hand. Vivica lay down on her side, leaning on her elbow. She pulled the blankets to her chin, waiting. Teague rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.
“You’re the only person I can trust with this, Teague. She’s gone missing.”
“Rach, that’s what the police are for.”
“No! No. The police won’t do anything. They said she’s an adult and she can do what she wants. Far be it for me to explain she’s not in her right mind. She’s a danger to herself. They seem to think a suicidal woman isn’t a big deal.” Her voice caught in her throat and she burst into tears.
Teague closed his eyes, knowing he was going to regret his next words. “What do you need from me, Rachel?”
“I need you to find her. Bring her home.”
“What makes you think I can find her. Wouldn’t the local police be better equipped?”
“But she’s not local! She’s in Florida to find the men – the ones….”
“The ones who assaulted her.”
“Yes.” She sobbed. “She was in therapy, making good progress. She was happy for the first time in years. Why would she leave like this?”
“Something triggered it. Any idea what?”
“No. None. I can’t get much from her shrink. I’m not her contact person. I want you to talk to her.”
“Why? If she won’t talk to you….”
“Because, she’ll talk to you. It’s Isobel,” she blurted.
“Just because I slept with the woman a few years ago doesn’t mean she’ll talk to me about Nadeya now, Rachel. If anything, she’s gonna be less inclined to talk to me.”
“Nadeya put you down as her emergency contact. I told her to use me, but she refused. Isobel will talk to you – for that reason, if nothing else.”
“I’m gonna regret this,” Teague said. “I know that before I start. How the hell am I gonna track down Nadeya or Isobel? I don’t even know where to start.”
“That’s where I come in.”
The smugness in her voice was like fingernails on slate. Teague shuddered.
“Both Isobel and Nadeya were in Florida as of yesterday. Isobel is at the Daytona VA and Nadeya has been seeing her for the past year.”
Exhaling slowly, Teague nodded. “Okay. I make no promises, but I’ll see what I can find out. Happy now?”
Rachel sobbed again. “I won’t be happy until Nadeya is home safely.”
“I hate you, Rachel.”
“I hate you more.”
“Good bye – and thank you.”
Teague hung up, dropping his Android on the bed. Vivica traced circles on his chest and abdomen, letting her fingers drift lower. Frowning, she bit her lip and lifted the covers.
“There must be something seriously wrong with you.” She licked and nipped his ear, letting her fingers do the walking.
There was still no reaction from Teague. Slapping his chest, Vivica sat up.
“Okay. What’s up, Sergeant? Cause that sure isn’t the way your little soldier behaves!”
Teague laughed, pulling her back down. “Sorry. Former Army buddy. Her best friend, another Army officer, has gone missing. Well, Nadeya quit about the same time I did. Her time there even tougher than mine. Her first tour, her CO forced her to have sex with him.”
“Gets worse. He and some of the other guys all took turns with her a couple other girls. They tried to get action, but it got brushed under the rug and hushed up. The CO has some powerful friends.”
“She was traumatized. How could no one listen to that?” Vivica screeched. She’d had some harsh treatment in her life, because of her older brother, Randy. Atrocities to women made her furious.
Worried she would take out the fury on him, Teague held her hands, gazing into her eyes. “I agree. I’d like to string the bastards up by their balls. But that won’t help find Nadeya.”
“Does she know who did it? Can she find them and bring them to justice?”
“She’s never been able to remember them all – at least not when I last saw her. She’d found one and they even managed to arrest him. He met with an accident in prison.”
“She had him killed?”
Teague became evasive. “Maybe.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
Vivica knew better than to ask anymore. He’d never tell her details, nor would he lie to her. Therefore, he’d stay quiet. It was one of the things she found most annoying, yet endearing, about him.
“So, what’s your first move?”
Teague looked at the clock before rolling toward her. “First, I make love to the most beautiful woman in the world. Then I see if I can figure out where Nadeya’s gone.”
WHAT IS THE WORKING TITLE OF YOUR BOOK?
My book is called The Ninja Tattoo
WHERE DID THE IDEA COME FROM FOR THE BOOK? It was inspired by an incident I had while driving back to my house one morning. It was such a strange occurrence, it really stuck in my brain. Although I used this incident in the book, fortunately, the other things that happen to Teague never happened to me.
WHAT GENRE DOES YOUR BOOK FALL UNDER?
The Ninja Tattoo is romantic suspense
WHICH ACTORS WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO PLAY YOUR CHARACTERS IN A MOVIE RENDITION?
Teague McMurtry = Eric Winters Vivica Rambo = Sara Shahi
WHAT IS THE ONE-SENTENCE SYNOPSIS OF YOUR BOOK?
Teague thought he was safe when he came home from Afghanistan, but an infamous biker gang had other ideas.
WILL YOUR BOOK BE SELF-PUBLISHED OR REPRESENTED BY AN AGENCY?
The Ninja Tattoo was published by Tirgearr Publishing.
HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO WRITE THE FIRST DRAFT OF YOUR MANUSCRIPT?
I originally wrote this book for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenge two years ago. It took about three weeks to finish.
WHAT OTHER BOOKS WOULD YOU COMPARE THIS STORY TO WITHIN YOUR GENRE?
I don’t know of any other books like this in the genre.
WHO OR WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THIS BOOK?
I got the idea coming home one day from dropping off my son. I found myself in puzzling circumstances, followed by a biker who seemed intent on following me home. My mind clicked into high gear as I tried to figure out what the heck was going on. That’s how The Ninja Tattoo was born.
WHAT ELSE ABOUT YOUR BOOK MIGHT PIQUE THE READER’S INTEREST?
There are some steamy love scenes in the book. They aren’t Habañero hot, but they are Jalapeño hot.
Look for these amazing authors next week!
Ruth Davis Hays http://jorthusbooks.wordpress.com/
Tracy Searight http://tracysearight.weebly.com/index.html
Karen Vaughan www.karenvaughanbooks.com
NaNoWriMo is winding to a close. Some have finished, some struggle to complete their novels before midnight November 30th. One fun thing in a NaNo novel is to include the death of Cliff Brooks. It’s become a long standing challenge and a bit of a tradition. Therefore, I’ve quoted below the death of Cliff Brooks in each of my NaNo novels. Each is different – and one even made me cry.
From “Wall of Time” 2007 NaNo Novel
A scrawny man in a dirty black leather thong and studded dog collar answered the door. He had a name tattooed on is skinny chest: Cliff Brooks. Cliff escorted Wil into the lobby and told Eboneé she was wanted below. The whore took her time, making sure she was perfectly attired for her new playmate.
(Wil goes to her room pretending to be a customer & “persuades” her to contact her boyfriend who has accepted a contract on Wil.)
Eboneé reluctantly placed the call to Mozzimo. It wasn’t a clear visual, but he could see Wil holding her prisoner. Wil’s smile was lethal, wicked, cold with anger. He took this all very personally. The fact that the Council actually thought they could kill him offended his sensibilities in ways nothing else could. That they had tried to use his friend first, offended him as well. Now they were sending a cocky, arrogant, pervert after him. They were killing his ego, that was about all they had accomplished.
“I’ll be there soon, Ebby,” he told his prostitute girlfriend. “You just keep him happy til I get there.”
“Moz! He’s trying to kill me here!”
“Don’t be stupid, bitch. If he wanted you dead, you already would be. Play nice.” He cut off the transmission.
“Let’s get comfy, shall we?” Wil dragged her to the bed and cuffed her to it, arms and legs splayed indecorously across the dirty red coverlet.
“They’re gonna come asking for me if you don’t let me go soon.”
“Baby, they won’t ask for you for a week. I gave them so much money, I could keep you here as long as I wanted. No one cares. You’re meat.” He dressed quickly and sat on the only chair in the room, facing the door, waiting.
He knew Mozzimo was close. He was probably already in orbit. Moz was sloppy. He hadn’t paid attention to his screen angle. Wil had seen the navigation instruments behind him on the vid screen. He’d been less than five hectares away from Aolani Figure at least thirty minutes for approach, clearance and docking, he’d be through the door in less than an hour.
Eboneé was beginning to like the position she was in. She liked the man who threatened her, finding that she enjoyed getting the pain as well as giving it. If she could distract him, maybe Moz would have a chance and kill him. She could watch. She could really get off on that.
“Hey,” she put on her most coaxing, sultry voice. To Wil she sounded nasal and annoying.
“What?” He didn’t look at her. He could see her in his peripheral vision.
“Why waste your time and money? Come on over here, I’ll give you something to keep you occupied til Moz gets here.”
“Oh, come on. I’m all set up and ready for you. You’re so hot, you’re steaming. Take off your clothes and join me. I’ll make it worth your time.” She writhed on the bed and tried to look sexy. It was hard to look really slinky with her arms and legs spreadeagled, but she tried.
Wil laughed, not keeping the dark amusement from his face. “Save it for someone who gives a shit, Ebby.” He said her name in a mocking tone. “I don’t want what you have to offer. I like my women clean.”
“I’m clean!” She screeched.
“Sure you are.” He chuckled. It was a very spooky sound.
Eboneé was crying softly, waiting for Mozzimo to arrive. Wil sensed him before he heard Mozzimo in the hallway. Making no pretense of his arrival, he was coming in hot and fully loaded.
Yelling obscenities and banging on doors as he clumped down the hall, he was disturbing the entire establishment. Cliff came up behind him to find out what the trouble was. Without thinking, Mozzimo spun around and shot him right between the ‘f’ and the ‘B’. Cliff scrabbled at his chest, coughed once and died.
From “Deserted” 2008 NaNo Novel
In this novel, Cliff is head gaffer for a television show that’s being filmed on a desert island. The show is kind of like “Survivor” meets “Fantasy Island.” Three women & one man are “deserted” on the island. The women are given tasks to perform & the prize is a dream date with the man.
Thumping the door open, Jethro found several of the crew members sitting around having a cold beer, watching the scene at the campsite erupt in yet another argument. This time between Genvieve and Claire.
“Dear God, how did I let Barry talk me into this?” He put his head on the table, banging it gently several times.
A cold beer appeared as if by magic. He looked into the friendly face of Cliff Brooks.
“You look like a man who needs a beer and then needs to get laid.”
Jethro’s laugh sounded rather hysterical. “Oh, that would solve all my problems,” he remarked sarcastically. “Can you imagine how much worse it would get if I took one of them to bed?”
“I’ll take Brittaney off your hands any time,” he winked. “I bet we’d even find someone for Genvieve, then you’d have Claire all to yourself.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Dude, after last night, it is obvious as hell that you love that girl.”
“Guys, you need to see this,” one of the women said, pointing at the screen.
Genvieve had Claire by the hair and was screaming in her face. She had a knife in her hand and was threatening her with it.
“Oh, shit!” Beer forgotten, all the men were out of the trailer, pounding down the beach.
The woman followed in a dune buggy. She picked them up and drove to the campsite. Claire was fighting off Genvieve while Brittaney tried to take the knife from her. Wild eyed and screaming hysterically, Genvieve fought like a wildcat, trying to stab Claire.
“You bitch! You slut! Whore! You stole him from me! He was mine! Mine!”
“Stop it, Genvieve!” Brittaney screamed, making another grab for the knife.
“I’ll kill you and then he’ll be mine!” The knife descended, slowed slightly by Brittaney.
Genvieve still held Claire’s hair, but turned on Brittaney, knife wielded dangerously toward her. “I’ll get you too,” she threatened. “Don’t get in my way!”
She lunged at Brittaney, who jumped out of the way with a scream. Tripping over a piece of driftwood, she sprawled on the ground. Genvieve let go of Claire, turning on Brittaney.
“Genvieve, no!” Claire tried to stop her, but fell over the same branch which was partially buried in the sand.
Cliff dove from the dune buggy before it came to a complete stop. He hit Genvieve with a flying tackle, knocking her several feet from the others. Jethro took them to the safety of the dune buggy as Genvieve grappled with Cliff. For a moment it looked as if he were winning, but his hand slipped as he tried to block her blow. Sunlight flashed on the blade as it fell toward his body, plunging up to the hilt in his lower abdomen.
“No!” Brittaney screamed, tearing herself away from Jethro’s slack hands. She flung herself on the sand, cradling Cliff’s head on her lap, yanking off her T-shirt to staunch the flow of blood around the blade. “No! Cliff! No!”
The woman from the crew whipped out a walkie-talkie, calling desperately for help. Moments later, several of the men from the guard house came roaring up the beach in a Jeep. One carried a sophisticated first aid kit. He stabilized the knife, applying pressure to the wound. He worked feverishly several minutes as they waited for the launch to arrive. The boat raced toward the beach, slewing dangerously against the dock as the captain killed the motor and crewmen jumped off to secure it.
They brought a stretcher and carried him rapidly to the boat. Brittaney followed, strangely calm. She sat next to him, holding his hand as the boat took off. Two more security men took Genvieve into custody. She went calmly, not even protesting when they cuffed her.
Jethro and the others looked on in stunned silence. He couldn’t believe that Genvieve would so something so crazy over him. Or maybe it was the money. Either way, it was completely insane. Horrified, he flopped on the beach, holding head. It took him a couple of minutes to remember that Claire had been the object of the original attack. Standing slowly, he went to her side.
She was staring at the pool of Cliff’s blood on the sand. Pale and shaking, she wasn’t responding to the people around her. The security men were trying to get a statement, but she wouldn’t talk. Silent tears ran down her pale face. Jethro took her in his arms. She turned to him, face buried in his chest as she cried piteously.
“Shh, it’s okay now, it’s over.”
“No, it’s not okay. Cliff could die! And Brittaney, she really likes him. She told me he used to come visit her in the evenings after the rest of us were settled for the night. They were becoming really good friends.”
“Oh, Christ,” Jethro said quietly. “No wonder he said that.”
“Said what?” She was calmer now.
They walked to the gazebo and sat together in the shade. The woman with the dune buggy brought cold drinks for the three of them.
“He offered to take her off my hands so you and I could be together.” He smiled shyly.
“What a nice man,” she smiled.
The walkie-talkie crackled. The woman pulled it off her belt, speaking into it.
“Go ahead. This is Barbara.”
“This is Pablo,” the voice on the other end sounded tense. “We just go word from the captain. Cliff died. They tried to revive him at the hospital, but he’d lost too much blood. The constable is coming now for Miss Genvieve. Can you meet us at the house?”
From “The Ninja Tattoo” NaNo Novel 2009
Teague snuggled up with Vivica, dozing fitfully. He kept waking up, thinking he heard things outside, but determined it was the sounds of the storm.
Eventually, he fell into a deeper sleep, his dreams troubled and chaotic. The war dreams were back full of explosions and gunfire. He couldn’t wake up, even though he knew it was a nightmare. Calling out, he sat up in bed. Vivica sat beside him, hair tangled, face puffy with sleep.
“Cliff! Oh, my God!”
“Teague? Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Where’s Cliff? Did you see him?”
“Teague. There’s no one here but us. Tell me what’s wrong?”
She didn’t know if he was asleep or awake, hardly wanting to touch him for fear she’d set him off. He was obviously having a nightmare, but what it was about, she didn’t know.
“God!” He held his head, shaking all over. “It was so real! I swear, I thought I’d put that behind me.” He flopped down on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Tell me about it,” she said calmly, quietly. “It helps to talk.”
She cuddled up close, putting her head on his chest. His body vibrated, his heart racing. His hands fluttered against her shoulder and hair, finally coming to rest.
“Start with who Cliff is.”
“Was,” he corrected softly. “My battle buddy and best friend since sixth grade.”
“Was he killed in the war?”
He nodded, biting his lip so he wouldn’t start to cry. Men didn’t cry, right? They were tough, cold, hard …. Despite his efforts, the tears rolled down the sides of his face, trickling into his ears. He didn’t acknowledge them, hardly noticing.
“I keep seeing it over and over in my mind. Every time I close my eyes ….”
“Tell me what happened. I’m a good listener.”
“It was horrible ….”
“Too horrible to share with me? Teague, I saw my brother kill a man with a baseball bat. Anything you tell me, I promise I can handle. I may be the one person you know who you can tell.”
His arms tightened around her and he kissed her forehead. She was right. As damaged as he was, so she was too. They healed one another, filling in the gaps and holes of their tattered souls. Swallowing a huge lump in his throat, he told her about Cliff.
“We were on patrol. Routine, really, we did them every day. Only you can’t let it get routine or people die.”
She nodded, not speaking. She listened to his heart slow, playing with the hair on his chest as he spoke more to himself than to her.
“He was joking, cutting up, talking about this new woman sargent, really hot and sexy, who had just been transferred in. Word was she was supposed to assigned to us as a journalist. He was trying to figure out the best way to ask her out. His girl back home had dumped him and he was hoping to get lucky. It was stupid, a dumb mistake ….”
A shuddering sigh made her head bounce. Vivica turned toward him, gazing at his face in the half-light of the room.
“Whose mistake? Yours?”
He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose to purge the memory, shake the feelings, stop the tears that kept flowing.
“No. Cliff turned his back, just for a second ….”
“What happened?” She leaned up on her folded arms, staring into his face.
“It was just a kid. He couldn’t have been more than 12. Cliff was talking to him earlier, gave him a candy bar. He turned around, laughing and suddenly the boy shot him in the back of the head. His face exploded all over me.”
“Oh, Teague! Baby, how awful! I’m so sorry ….”
“I stayed by Cliff, calling for a medic, but he was already dead. The townspeople flocked around the kid, dragging him away. They took him to the mayor, who shot him on the spot. No trial, no explanation. He killed him, Viv. I found out later that was his boy. He killed his own son! For murdering a stranger.”
The original idea came from something that actually happened to me. The character of Teague has my perspective & point of view in the incident that sparked this story. Of course, I’ve added to and embellished, but the basic thread here is real. I don’t know what the bikers were doing, if it was a strange and oddly convenient coincidence, but it’s something that stuck with me.
Teague McMurtry has recently left the Army. At 24, he’s seen more blood and death than most men his age. Quite by accident, he gets involved in something strange, mysterious and deadly. Is the beautiful Vivica really what she claims, the innocent sister of a psychotic mastermind? Or is she drawing him into something dangerous and deadly? An excerpt from “The Ninja Tattoo” is below.
Early morning sun set the sky on fire, glistening off the water, momentarily blinding him. He flipped down the visor then dug his sunglasses out of the glove compartment, sliding them up his nose with one hand. He’d chosen the scenic route to work just so he could enjoy the sunrise. It wasn’t often he got out this early. The river looked like molten silver shot with gold strands. The sky was a cheerful blend of rose, lavender, azure, peach and plum. The sun peeping over the horizon was tinged with red, indicating the start of another scorcher. Hot weather was not unusual in Florida, but wasn’t the norm for this late in the year.
Teague McMurtry waved to the few pedestrians out at this hour. He knew some of them slightly, since many of them were his neighbors. Working the odd hours he did, he rarely saw anyone. However, since moving a month ago to his small house on Riverside Drive, his neighbors had made a point of coming over to introduce themselves. It was by far the friendliest neighborhood he had ever lived in.
The road was empty as he drove south toward his job site in Oak Hill. He had an estimate to do down there and had to be in New Smyrna by 10:00, leaving him plenty of time in between. By the time he got to the police station in Edgewater, only a few blocks from his home, he had joined a convoy of sorts. In the lead was a bronze Ford pickup. Directly in front of Teague was a guy on a motorcycle. Behind him was another motorcycle, a red Jeep and, he thought, a third bike behind the Jeep. It seemed odd since the road had been so empty before. He couldn’t quite remember noticing when he came upon these others, but figured they all had the same idea, keeping out of school traffic on US-1.
The pickup was going the speed limit, which was a little frustrating. In fact, the driver went 25, then 20, 30 and 15. Teague wanted to lay on his horn, but didn’t want to startle the biker, so he kept his frustration to himself. The biker didn’t look any happier with the truck than he was. From time to time, he glanced behind him, trying to see around Teague’s white Dodge Ram. Apparently, the motorcycles were traveling together and somehow Teague had gotten in between them.
At the turnoff for 442, the guy ahead of Teague gestured with his left arm, motioning as if he were turning. Teague slowed, anticipating the right turn, but the biker sped up, his black and white Ninja, following the truck as it continued past the intersection. Instead, the red Jeep, followed by another biker, turned right and headed up 442. This left the truck, Teague and two bikers. It seemed strange to him and he began to wonder what was going on. His overactive imagination clicked into high gear and he started imagining scenarios.
“Maybe the guy in the truck is with them and he’s giving directions to the guy on the white Ninja?”
He thought that over, wondering how they were communicating. The guy ahead of him was probably about his age with short, sandy brown hair. He had on a T-shirt, baggies, skater shoes and sunglasses. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and he didn’t have a cellphone out. So that was probably not the case. The biker behind Teague was also on a Ninja, this one bright blue, He wore a white helmet with a dark visor. He was wearing clothing similar to the man ahead of him. What characterized them both was the fact they were heavily tattooed. What Teague had first taken as a tan or sunburn, on closer inspection, revealed itself to be elaborate tattoos on neck, arms and legs.
The road turned right, coming to a end at US-1. Stopping for the light, the man ahead of Teague leaned back on his bike, glancing at the guy behind him. He motioned to himself, indicating he was going right. Gesturing at the rider behind Teague, he pointed left. The other man nodded, giving the lead biker a thumbs up. The light changed and the fellow on the white Ninja followed the truck while the man on the blue one followed Teague. Feeling a bit paranoid, he moved over to the right lane, anticipating that the biker would go around him. It didn’t even occur to him that the other man would stay behind him, but he did. He didn’t ride Teague’s bumper, rather stayed at least two car lengths back, shadowing him. If Teague changed lanes, so did the biker.
The hairs on his neck stood at attention. Something was decidedly weird. This man’s behavior negated everything Teague had ever seen bikers do. They generally crowded until they could pass, then buzzed around the other vehicles way too fast, disappearing suddenly as they sped up. Approaching the subdivision near Oak Hill, Teague signaled his turn. The biker looked ready to follow, but continued down the highway. As Teague checked in at the security gate, the biker slowed, making a U turn, he continued back up US-1. Once he was cleared, Teague drove to the house whose yard he was landscaping. He tried to put the bikers out of his mind, but their odd behavior was so out of the ordinary, he couldn’t.