The night Stormy Meadows blew into town was one that Alex Ross would never forget. She was a looker, that was for sure, and all the men in the place were lookin’ and she was lovin’ it.

She had big blue eyes that lit the whole room up and long luscious legs that seemed to go on forever. And her lips...ahhh... full and pouty and just aching to be kissed. And kiss them, he did, only the aftertaste of the whole affair left a little to be desired, in Ross’ opinion.

He’d been in town, just passing through on his way to a job opportunity that had suddenly been dropped in his lap, when he got the sudden urge to hit the local watering hole. There he was, minding his business, listening to what barely passed for a jazz band in this little shit-hole of a nightclub, when in came Stormy – hair ablaze, hips a shakin’, and causing all heads to turn – including his.

Stumping out the remains of his cigarette, he smoothed out his hair, straightened his shirt, and sauntered over to where she was standing – swaying to the music like she was floating on water. The rest was history, as was Stormy – blew right back outta his life almost as quickly and as turbulent as she had entered it.

He could still smell her perfume and taste her sweet lips against his – even now – here in this Godforsaken place. He smiled at her memory, took another puff off his cigarette, then stumped out the remains of it in the tacky little plastic motel ashtray that sat on his bedside table. Damn, but he still couldn’t get that dame outta his head, no matter how much he tried.

He picked up the remote control, flipped on the TV across the room, and flopped down on the bed – hoping the distraction would help. After half an hour of channel surfing, Ross gave up, tossed the remote aside, and decided to go for a drive, instead. He’d heard about a little place not too far from there – a new community of sorts, where he’d gotten a tip that there might be a job for him. Didn’t hurt none that Stormy was rumored to be somewhere in the vicinity, as well.

Slipping on his jacket and fedora, Ross headed out to his car. Tossing his suitcase in the backseat, he slid behind the wheel of the car and sped away. "The Glen," he thought to himself. "This should prove interesting."

TBC...