WIP Excerpt - "Save vs. Romance" (Patreon)

Having hit a bit of a wall on another project and wanting to write something more solidly upbeat and hopeful while the world is especially bad, I've returned to the idea of optimistic near-future Romantic Comedies and started writing what I hope can be book one of a series. This one is tentatively titled "Save vs. Romance"

Here's a little bit of the first draft:

Chapter One

Tuesday afternoons at the Dragon’s Horde would be great for painting if not for all the customers. Trinity Franklin found that if more than two customers were in the room with her, she couldn’t focus in on her work or else she’s completely lose track of the people. And the owners tended to look poorly on things like frustrated patrons leaving with their questions unanswered.

The obvious solution for this would be to have someone else covering the storefront while Trin was painting, but despite asking several times, Rachel had refused.

“The money just isn’t there, Trin hon. I wish I could make it work, but we need the coverage. Maybe if this new GM works out and we get some more subscriptions, but until then…”

Rachel had to be both compassionate and reasonable, leaving Trin absolutely heard and appreciated but the problem unresolved. Which made it much harder to gripe about. Especially when a part of her mind that sounded suspiciously like her mother was saying “You’re lucky to have a job at all.” 

Trin looked back to her mural, a fantasy adventure-scape based on Rachel and Olivia’s home game - the game they’d fallen in love during, as Olivia would tell anyone that asked. Olivia was a painter, too, but arthritis and the long hours in the kitchen meant that while Trin was working off of Olivia’s character designs and concept art, it was Trin putting in the long hours to turn the store’s ground floor walls into a monument to the story that had brought the two women together. Made longer still by having to answer questions about Warhammer armies, upcoming Magic: the Gathering tournaments, and whether the bar had gluten-free options (yes, here’s our GF menu) and by having to take a break every thirty minutes to rest.

From a quick glance at the phone, Diego would be in for the closing shift soon. That’d give her a solid two or three hours to paint, depending on how busy the kitchen got.

So many moving parts. But Trin woke up nearly every day excited to continue the piece, doodled ideas for scenes-within-scenes on her bus rides, and even with the updated ADA, she hadn’t been able to find anywhere that was as flexible and supportive while giving her so much creative freedom.

The Dragon’s Horde was a fine example of the type of gamer bar that had become popular just as Trin was old enough to drive and needed someplace to hang out that was open until midnight. She’d been coming to the Dragon’s Horde for years before working there, thanks to their monthly Queer as a Three-Sided Die events, spotlighting queer local designers, artists, and musicians. And when Olivia decided to bring in a staff artist, it had been the opportunity she needed to move out on her own and prove to her family that she could be independent. 

Sure, “living on her own” meant “with a roommate”, but that was at least as much to have someone around as it was to split the rent. Things weren’t like they used to be, with the vacancy tax and the reclamation projects that focused on affordable housing and bringing people back into Baltimore. She could live close to work on what she made from the job, leaving the Basic for her other expenses.

The store occupied all three floors of the building, with retail space and the bar on the first floor, rooms for private games on the second floor as well as the office, and an open third floor for events like tournaments, concerts, and large parties. Rachel and Olivia had  an elevator put in with state accessibility funding and traded some on-site parking for a backyard play space with modular solar panel shades.

Once Diego arrived, Trin was able to focus on painting and three hours whisked by in a rush as she added to the Darkthorne Woods, the site of the Bastion’s battle against one of Frazzak’s chief lieutenants.

Around six-thirty, when Diego was on his break and Trin was back on the cashwrap, a tall person in a classic black Friends at the Table hoodie with a large They/Them button and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans walked in. They had light skin, eyes brown like milk chocolate and a lavendar undercut swept to one side. With them on a leash was an adorable black-furred corgi mix with floppy ears. The dog lunged for something under one of the dining tables and the person’s lanky grace turned to steady strength, holding the corgi back, short claws scrabbling against the polished floor.

“Cocoa, no!” They kept the dog secured with one hand while reaching down to pick up a half-eaten churro. Must have been dropped by the older couple that was here for tea an hour ago. They walked the scrap over to the trashcan near the cashwrap and dropped it in, keeping their insistent dog at bay the whole time. Then the gorgeous newcomer disappeared behind the counter and whispered some comforting words to the dog before standing back up, brushing their silky lavender hair back like the handsome rival in an anime. 

They looked at her and said, “Hey. I’m Alex. Are you Rachel?”

Trin had to restrain herself from gasping at the gorgeousness unfolding casually before her. Instead, while trying to stand, she slipped off of her stool.

She closed her eyes, trying to go limp to soften the fall. But there was no crash, no painful thud. 

Just a strong hand under her ribcage, halting her fall and leaving her with one foot dangling on the stool and the rest of her limbs draped or flailing inches from the floor. She opened her eyes to see Alex watching her with worry and care from entirely too close for her poor heart to handle.

“Thanks. I’m Trin,” she said as she put down a hand and untangled her foot, then stood back up, recomposing herself while holding back the urge to perish from embarrassment.

Once she was back in her seat, she added “Rachel’s gone home for the day. You’re the new GM?”

As Trin spoke, Alex looked around the room, turning their attention back to her at the question. They nodded. Below, the corgi’s claws scrabbled on the floor. “Yeah. Sorry, Strider wants to meet you.”

Trin waited a beat, expecting a question to follow. When it didn’t, she stepped out and knelt down to the dog, whose floppy curling tail was wagging excitedly. She reached out with both hands and scritched the small dog up and down both sides of his neck. “Strider? What a good name for an adventurous dog.”