Tombstone Ranch begins in Tombstone, Arizona 1881 and spans to the future, and a world on another planet. Will the future be any better than Jake’s past? When Les shows up at Tombstone Ranch, looking to get hired on by old Jake, he finds Jake isn’t nearly as old as his nickname suggests. He also notices quite a lot more about his boss. Drawn to one another, their nights pass pleasurably in each other’s arms, until Les finds out the truth about Jake. Any kind of relationship with a blood sucking fiend was never in Les’ future. And Les isn’t too damn sure of what to do about Jake.
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| Excerpt ~~ Tombstone Ranch |
"Well, here goes nothin', I reckon." He reached up and knocked on the door.
When the door opened, an oddly dressed fellow in a fancy suit greeted him. "May I help you?"
"Uh, hi," Les said, taking off his hat. "I think I might be in the wrong place. I'm looking for Tombstone Ranch. The directions I got were kinda…fuzzy."
Stepping back, the man gestured for him to come inside. "You're at the right place. Are you here for the position?"
The inside of the house looked nothing like Les had expected from its dilapidated exterior. A warm coziness pervaded the atmosphere, light reflecting in the dark wood paneling along the small hall. Its décor seemed almost fancily out of place, like the man in the suit. Les held onto his hat, fingers stroking the brim absently as he followed the man down the hall to another room.
"Yes, sir. I found out about it from some folks at Lucy's Diner."
"Old Jake is in his office. You can go back and see him." Pointing to a corridor to the left of him, the man added, "It's the fourth door to the right."
"Thanks." Les started down the hall, wondering what sort of oldfashioned man he'd be working for. Judging from the looks of the place, Old Jake liked the finer things. When he reached the door, he knocked.
The door opened, and Leslie could see a relatively young man sitting at his desk. The guy couldn't have been more then in his early thirties. His long blond hair was tied back in a pony tail. The red shirt he wore hung open as the man worked on some papers in front of him. Casting a quick glance down the hall, Les thought to ask the first man if he was even in the right room. Lord have mercy, this place was weird. Clearing his throat, he rapped on the doorframe with his knuckles.
"Hi there. I'm lookin' for Old Jake."
"That's me. Come on in and sit down. You looking for work?" Jake set his pen down then leaned back in his chair.
A buck caught in headlights. That was how Les felt, frozen in place by the greenest damned eyes he'd ever seen. Shaking his head slightly to clear the fog, he nodded. Then he realized how incredibly confusing it probably seemed. "Yes, sir." He walked over to the desk, offering his hand. "Les Westwood."
"Welcome to Tombstone Ranch, Leslie. I'm Jake Mathers, but just call me Jake or Old Jake like everyone else does." Taking his hand in firm grasp, Jake shook it then released him. "Now sit down, get comfortable, and tell me all about yourself."
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