The boys are back in town...

Today, as the sun rises, I am an inner city renegade. An outer limits desperado. A caffeinated outlaw with a bittersweet tooth.

Drawn like a magnet to the dark side. Surrendering willingly. My love for the lord of the green tannin temporarily usurped.

Upended. Twisted, tangled and turned on its head.

I sit in the coffee shop hugging the dregs of a once luxuriant, black Americano and daydreaming for a minute or two of eyes the colour of night. Skin the texture of velvet. Sitting a dozen feet and a million miles away. Dream on, cowboy, whispers a voice to my left.

I look up and Little Italy is holding a fresh cup of mahogany joe, ready, willing and able to bring yours truly out of an early morning reverie.

She smiles. I blush. And the moment disappears like smoke in the wind.

By the time I return the smile she’s returning to the bar with a clean pair of heels and a slight sway of the hips that would make the blood pump faster in the veins of any creature within a hair’s breadth of testosterone.

That’s Little Italy all over.

I take a furtive sip of the fresh Americano, let it play around my taste buds for a few seconds before feeling it slip down my throat with all the warmth of an old friend.

A raised voice catches my attention and I snap my head up in the direction of the bar. You used to make the best damned Mocha in the whole goddamned town, says The Voice. It used to be so good you’d get folk queuing up sometimes just to stand outside and smell the damned stuff, ain’t that right Eugene?

Uh huh says Eugene, with a white smile a mile wide interrupted by two solid gold front teeth. Eugene is dancin’ like he badly needs to pee.

You go pee baby, says The Voice, I’ll get these. Little Italy points to the balcony and Eugene disappears up the stairs like his arse is on fire.

Over by the window, The Man in Black looks on and smiles. Shakes his head slow. Just like he always does. He looks back down at his book. Soft black leather cover. Gold cross on the front. He licks a forefinger and turns a page.

Two feet away the door opens and the next slice of life waltzes in followed by a blast of Arctic air.

Little Italy looks at the box on the wall and points to the new arrivals. The box gets the message. Somewhere inside Number 58 slides into place.

The curtains open. Lizzy takes to the stage. Thin body. Lynott vocals. Half Irish. Half Brazilian.

Lock up your daughters.

The Boys Are Back In Town.

*********************************************************

The above is an extract from my book Love & Coffee (available from all good Amazons).

It's about the lives and loves of the customers in a city centre coffee shop.

And it's about the woman who takes care of them.

You'll find Love & Coffee (along with all my other books, Ad Lib, Ad Hoc, Ad Infinitum, and Heaven Help Us) waiting for you to fall in love with, any time of the day or night. Right here...

Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq

Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf .

Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8

Ad Infinitum: https://amzn.to/3pof7Uq

Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk

So grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.

Then grab a copy for Christmas.