Back In The Moutains.

I really want to write more in the mountains books. And so, I started with this story for a guy named Skeeter. That's his nickname. I picked four nicknames for these four stories. These are names I have heard here in Georgia.
My plan is Skeeter's story, Mule's story, Bubba's story, and last is Blue's story.

The thing is, I don't know what to do with these books yet. I don't know where to put them. I want to create but maybe they don't need to be out in the world. I could put them under my bed. I like playing with them, but it doesn't mean anyone has to read them. Right?
I'm not sure.
But if you think I should put them up on Kindle Villa or make them into a book on Barnes and Noble... please tell me. I have them written but not edited yet.
​
Here is a small part of Skeeter's story. (Please remember there are no edits so far.)

***
Chapter 1: Back In The Mountains: Dane and Skeeter.

Tapping snow off his tennis shoes, Dane entered the small mountain town café and stopped. The place was empty, but that didn’t surprise him for a random Thursday night. As he wiped his feet on the mat, he scanned the little round tables, the glass case of baked goods, and the cash register.
Doc Henderson wasn’t here yet.
But he would wait.
“Can I help ya?” An older woman with a hairnet appeared from the back of the baking area. “Ya look froze to death.” She took a spot behind the cash register and smiled warmly at him.
“Sure.” Dane strode up to the case and scanned the items. He didn’t want to spend money on anything extra, but he figured he would have to buy a cookie. If he purchased something, he could sit here out of the wispy snow and call Doctor Henderson. They said they would meet at eight, but Dane knew that Doc’s home was in the next town over. Maybe he was having problems getting over the mountain. It was now fifteen minutes after.
“It’s mighty cold out tonight.” The woman walked toward an industrial coffee pot against the wall. “You want a coffee to warm ya? It’s on the house. We’re closin’ at nine, and I’ll be pourin’ it out soon.”
“Thanks.” Dane spotted a small plate in the case labeled peach cobbler. “I’ll take a piece of cobbler too.”
“Good choice.” The woman set a foam cup on the counter and went for the dessert. “Ginger made it and brung it over the mountain this mornin’.”
“I know you’re closing soon, but I’m waiting for someone. Do you mind if I sit?”
“Sit fer a spell. You look new in town.” She rang him up, and Dane gave her his money before he picked up the plate and the cup. “Who ya waitin’ fer?”
“I don’t know if you know him.” Dane paused. “Doctor Henderson?”
The woman picked up a fork and then paused mid-handing the utensil to him. She stood there so long that Dane wondered if she was having a stroke.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, dear.” She finally handed him the fork, and then her eyes misted with tears. “Doc died two days ago. I’m so sorry. It was a heartattack. Very sudden. Everyone in these-here parts has been talkin’ ’bout it.”
“I didn’t know.” Dane’s mind spun. The doctor was dead. What the hell was he going to do now?
“Maybe ya should sit.” The lady gestured to a table, and Dane nodded. “Can I get ya anythin’ else?”
“No. I’m fine.” Dane sat with his coffee and the cobbler and tossed his overnight bag to the floor. Staring at the peaches, he tried to come up with what to do now. Traveling here to see the Doc was his last plan for saving his house. Suddenly, all his problems felt too big. What he needed was money and fast. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a criminal. Short of knocking off a liquor store, he had no idea how to fix his life so that the bank didn’t take his home.
The door chimed, and in walked a customer.
“Hey, Skeeter,” the woman behind the counter called. The name had Dane looking up from his cup. In the city, he’d never heard anyone called Skeeter.
The scruffy mountain man, Skeeter, was tall with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and thick thighs. With his right hand, he pushed back thick, shaggy brown hair in a mullet. His left arm he held close to his body as if protecting an injury. The wrist had a black brace from fringers to elbow.
The man wasn’t the type to turn heads like a model or an actor, but as he limped to the counter, Dane found himself appreciating how his blue jeans clung to his rounded ass and powerful-looking thighs. This man had a little something-something.
“Evenin’ Sharon.” Skeeter’s voice was husky and deep with that honeyed Southern accent. “Did Ginger bring cobbler?” The sexy tone swirled in Dane’s stomach.
As the stranger told the cashier what he wanted, he set two paper bags on the counter. Once again, Dane’s eyes raked his bulky coat, wondering if that was fluff or muscles.
He was pretty sure those were all muscles.
Dane had no idea why he was appreciating some random country boy in the mountains. Hook-ups, dating, sex, all those things were the last thing he had time for in his life. Dane had real problems to solve, and even if this guy did have broad shoulders and a nice ass, it didn’t mean anything. The man was probably straight, and Dane wasn’t into unshaven mountain men with their jeans tucked into their giant work boots. Plus, Dane now had to figure out a way home. When he returned to the city, he had to devise a way to pay the back mortgage before the bank foreclosed.
“Have a good night.” Skeeter turned to leave, and Dane lifted his gaze.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the stranger completely captivated Dane. Feelings of restless desire hit him. Sparks sizzled. Love at first sight wasn’t real, but something here came alive.
Soulful, dark hazel eyes penetrated him. They stared at each other for way longer than was appropriate in any situation, but Dane couldn’t seem to break the eye contact. The feelings that surged through him were like they had been together before. Maybe they had met each other in a past life since Dane was sure he’d never seen this guy. Skeeter wasn’t polished or groomed, but his face was still attractive with his beard scruff, and pretty eyes. This man looked honest, solid, and kind. The sense of dependability about him was hotter than sizzling good looks and a huge dick.
As if at the same time, they both realized they stared at each other, they both looked away. Dane dropped his eyes to his coffee. Skeeter fumbled with his paper bags, grabbed the plastic bag from Ginger, and hurried out the exit.
The bell chimed again.