It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have an excerpt from Top Prospect, an upcoming serial prequel for my new Watkins Glen Gladiators series debuting in January 2023.
Please do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
Padding around my room, dress shirt unbuttoned, I ran a hand over the mementos of four years of college. Fantasy and sci-fi novels, folders, a cup of pens, several pucks, papers, and on the top shelf sat my first ever goalie mask. I brushed my fingers over the tiny helmet with the bright blue buzzing bee. I’d been eight when I’d first played goalie. I’d always love the game of hockey. How could I not? I grew up with one of the games most elite tendies as an uncle by marriage. Not that Uncle Bryn had brought the love of ice hockey to our house. My Uncle Mike and I had been watching Ravens games forever. If you lived in Pittsburgh and didn’t cheer the Ravens you could possibly be run out of town.
But at eight was when I began to show a real interest in seriously playing the sport, and in the position of goaltender. Back then I dreamed of playing for the Ravens. With lots of hard work and a future HHOF goalie at my beck and call, I worked hard and through grit, gumption, and the grace of God – Uncle Mike’s catchy words not mine – I was the top goaltending prospect when I was eighteen. The Ravens grabbed me up. I’d never been prouder. Then the questions began rolling in from the press and bloggers, and even some fans, though not many. The fans were pretty damn diehard.
Sure he was good in high school but had he been chosen because of his familial ties?
Would he be able to handle the pressure?
Will he crack when he hits the collegiate level?
No, yes, and no. I’d shown all the doubters that I was not just the nephew of Bryn Mettler, I was my own man, my own goalie, and my own talent. Not to brag myself up but recent winner of the Hobey Baker award right here.
I smiled at the small mask, gave it a tap with my knuckles, then shook off the concerns of the past. Now I had new worries. I was to slated to graduate college in a few hours and had no tie. Also, I had a few short months to enjoy the summer before I was to show up in Watkins Glen, New York for the Gladiators training camp. Would I have a tie by then? Who knew? I gave the nightmare of a room another sweep then jogged across the hall to see if I’d left my tie with my cousin when we’d celebrated with some friends last night in her room. If anyone knew where my tie was it would be Bridgette. She knew where everything was at all times.