Every good book deserves a good dog. Horseshoes and Hand Grenades has two. If I had my way (authors are masters to their stories to some extent), the dogs would get a lot more “screen time” in the book, but I’ll make up for it in future novels.
For this Book Launch Week excerpt, we re-join Shelby, Astrid and Tina on Martha’s Vineyard. They are leaving an island party, the morning after, and getting a ride back to town with a guy named Will, who they have not met yet.
Will waited in the driveway next to a rusty van, jiggling his keys. I hadn’t noticed him at the party last night. He was about five-foot-nine, Italian-looking, straight but shaggy black hair reaching his collar, a shadow of stubble on his face, and an adorable lopsided smile. Jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt completed his rumpled island look.
“Who’s this?” I cried as a small yellow Lab jumped out of the van.
“This is Pilsener,” Will said proudly.
Astrid made a face behind Will’s back and grinned. She knew how much I hated it when people named their pets after alcohol. I mean, I loved dogs, and I loved alcohol, but how hard was it to be a bit more creative when naming a pet?
“He’s so cute,” I said, playing with Pilsener’s ears and burying my face in his fur.
“Come on, in the back,” Will demanded. I moved toward the van’s rear door.
“Not you,” he said, cocking his head. “The dog. You can sit in front with me, like a person.”
“I knew that,” I said as Tina and Astrid smirked at each other.
Coming tomorrow: Shelby starts to gain some insight.