Manzana

"Manzana"

a Stories by Baker exclusive

Gary Baker, September 23, 2013

Carnival lights flashed, kids shooting clowns with water toys squealed, petting zoo goats bleated into the air; and all as the smooth, suave, lady-man spy, Carlos Manzana, flickered passed in his Armani black suit.

He vaulted over a bench with a couple slapping tongue, turning even as he landed down to shoot her a wink, then back to running; bad guys were on his heels. Balloons burst as fragments of pistol-whipped bullets broke through them, glass jars with the little orange fish that die two days after you win them shattered in a quick barrage as Agent Manzana swept around the booth corner. Ladies screamed, hands flying to their hair in utter panic, their shrill cries echoing through Manzana who wanted nothing less than to hold them close and let them swoon their fears away.

Most would anyway, Manzana knew, but lets get this straight: most men would too, for this beast of beauty's rock hard bod.

Heist at Dawn, part one

“Heist at Dawn”

a short story

Gary R. Baker, July 2013

(part one)

“Remind me never to go to prison,” McKenna arched an eyebrow as her roommate, Bale, walked in with nothing but a towel tied around his waist and hair matted to his head as though from a torrential downpour.

She gaped, unnoticing as soggy cheerios dumped from her lilting spoon back into the bowl of off-white milk inches below. Befuddlement and wonder crossed behind her eyes at the words of the lean, muscular, man while he reached into the balsa wood cabinets to retrieve a bowl of cereal of his own. “I don’t get it,” she let dribble out, transfixed in the curves of his abdominals gliding across one another in the process of lifting his arms.

He shot her a quick grin, green eyes bespeckled with amusing embarrassment. “Literally: I dropped the soap fifteen times in there.”