Jan 17, 2012


Sorry for the delay in posting, I was traveling and the hotel WiFi kept dropping my connection.  I have another query scheduled to post tomorrow afternoon (revision to COMING OF THE DUKEBARR).
- Rick

Dear Agent:

Gail's life has not been perfect. She might have avoided making a few important decisions, like who to marry and where to live. After her arranged marriage fails, she is paralyzed with fear and spends the first three months hiding behind the pages of her Harlequin romance novels.

Encouraged by her best friend, Gail makes the decision to strike out on her own. She gets a little unexpected help from a strange cast of characters, her over-the-top grandmother, and Tony Cimino, the man who waits patiently for her to finally see him.

Both over-shadowed by siblings, Gail and Tony have learned to settle for what they were told was all they could expect from life. He hides landscape magazines behind the ovens of his father's pizza and sub joint on Broadway. She hides behind thick lenses and dreams of studying graphic art.

Gail did not expect to love her new life, and never expected the love of another to find her. She cannot believe he is her chance at happiness and tries to push him away. But Tony, a man who knows what he wants and sees it in Gail, is not going to give up so easily.

ONCE MORE AROUND THE BLOCK, complete at 80K words, is a love story about two people who find the courage to start over. I would be happy to send part of all of the complete manuscript. Thank you for your time and consideration.


II was certain something lethal was about to hurl through space and split me in two. As it turned out, Ben didn't need a ballistic missile or a grenade launcher, he only needed a piece of notepaper.

Dear Gail, I wish there was something more I could say. Have a great life. Benjamin Silverstein.

The phone in the apartment was dead, so I used the cell to call my friend, Marcy. "He did what?"

"That lousy bastard. He left me a Dear Gail note and signed it Benjamin Silverstein, like I didn't know his last name."

"Where are you?"

I paced around in a circle by the wall phone near our pass-through. "I'm in our apartment … our empty apartment. He cleaned me out. You've got to come and get me."

"Aw shit Gail, there's a blizzard out there."

"I don't care. You said your friend has a heavy all terrain vehicle. Please Marcy, you've got to get here."

"Hold up." She covered the phone, but I could still hear. "Bruno, we can play French Maid all night."

"Yeah, but I gotta get the truck back."

"No, you don't. You'll tell him it's under three feet of snow, which is where I'll put you if you don't get your pants on and get me over there."

She got back on with me, "No problem, Gail."

"French Maid, Marcy?"

"Yeah, he's tired of the Cowgirl. Good thing, those chaps were killing my thighs."

After she clicked off, I roamed through the rooms. The only things left were four boxes, shreds of excelsior, packing tape, a week-old Daily News, and three empty beer cans, not his brand.

Ten days basking in the sun and lounging on the pristine beaches of St. Croix, ten days to work on my life plan and decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, shattered by a three by a three piece of paper. I looked through our bedroom window to the black late afternoon sky, willing myself to picture Ben's face as he wrote his final farewell to our bogus marriage. "Yeah, well fuck you too."