Gabriel Morgan

The guttural throb of the ’52 Panhead pulsed through the still air of the old garage. I scooted my ass back on the seat to put my feet up on the highway pegs, grabbed the bars, and imagined I was flying down the road, putting the miles behind me. Several of us rented space in the red brick historical building - mostly guys into old cars, but a few with bikes, like me. This particular mid-January night at a little after eight, I was alone. After a moment, I thought I heard something in the s

Jeff's a decent guy from the wrong side of the tracks. Badly hurt by a failed relationship, he's wary of commitment. Evan lost his first love ten years ago and still isn't quite over it. After a chance meeting, they realize that this could be more than they ever hoped for, if they can find the courage to trust and believe.

Jesus... I guess I was extremely, um, eager. I had 'full fledged intercourse' with a willing 17-year-old member of the opposite sex when I was 15. In the back seat of a 1962 Dodge Dart. In my mother's driveway. So I guess I was not only eager, but athletic and suicidal. Having experienced the charms of both, I have to say that sex with one gender made me appreciate sex with the other, and vice versa. So many emotions and sensations in common, yet different acts entirely.

I've never changed major plot elements based on reader feedback, but I have beefed up aspects of a story that became more popular than I had originally anticipated. Chewy in Panhead, for example. I had always planned to have a dog in PH, but a few people were really taken with him, so I consciously wrote more of him into the story. For me, as a relatively new writer, reader feedback helps me improve. When enough people comment favorably on a particular thing, I can see that perhaps I should use that device or technique more often, that it's a successful one in my style of writing. Plus - and this is purely ego stroking - it makes me feel really good to know that what I wrote, something out of my own head, resonates with people, makes them laugh and cry, makes them want more. The satisfaction I derive from that is unlike anything else I've ever experienced.

I don't think we'll do anything. We're just happy to have an extra day off work. The fireworks are always so crowded that we stay home and just watch them from our 2nd floor window. I might buy some sparklers. I used to love those things as a kid, but California is such a fire hazzard this time of year that maybe they don't even sell them anymore. One year when I was a teenager, we drove across the state line and bought a bunch of serious fireworks and damn near blew ourselves up lighting them. Bottle rockets and M-80s. We used to put a coffee can over an M-80 and blow it inside out. A kid I went to school with blew off two of his fingers when he didn't let go of one quick enough. We always fly the flag and I do give some thought to what the day means. The United States is a great place to live.