She loveing it. And loving and loving it.

And loving it.

She loving him. She looking at him. She listening to him. She touching him. And touching him and getting to him and reaching him and getting a hold on him getting a grip on him getting to know him getting close to him. And close and close and closer and closer and very closer. And very close. Very very close. So close. Just do damn darn close. Extremely close. And tight. And together. Dancing together.

And together.

And together again.

Always together. They always together always with it always hip. Always happening and happy. And acting and dancing and singing and romancing and traveling and grooving and feeling the rhythm of the music.

And loveing it. And loveing it and loveing it.

And liking it and believing it and not leaving it but rather instead sticking with it. And sticking to it like glue sticking to the story sticking to the singing of the song. Sticking like velcro. Sticking like tar. Sticking like stockings to a woman's legs. Sticking like stock. Sticking like cattle. He sticking like a cowboy. He sticking to her like a cowboy. He sticking to her like a cowboy sticking to his horse. Sticking like a man. Taking it like a man and loving it like a man. Sticking to the story. Sticking to the script. Sticking to the mud. Sticking to the love of the mud. Sticking to the love. Sticking to it. They sticking to one another. She sticking to him and he sticking to her. She sticking to him like a pair of high heeled shoes stuck to her feet. She sticking. And then sticking some more yet again.

They sticking to the guns the big guns their big guns their bread and butter. Sticking to Smith & Wesson. Sticking to The Kid. Sticking to the freedom. Sticking to everything of the big picture. To the going and moving and action and action. Sticking to the action. And the action and the working and riding of the horses and driving of the automobiles and flying of the airplanes to places and places and towns and cities and countries and countries and songs and songs and stories and stories and buildings and symphonies and sounds and movements and ditties and rhythms and dances. Sticking and sticking. They sticking. They sticking with it. They stuck with it. They had stuck with it and were now still sticking with it. Sticking and sticking with it until the end until the very end.

They sticking. They doing it. She doing it to him and his heart. She loving him. And feeding him and fueling him and not fleeing from him not running away but instead sticking and staying and settling. She settling for number one. She settling for the best. For only the best. She settling for it all. She settling on him. She settling on him for him. And for her. For herself. She settling for love. She settling only for love. She settling for only one love. One good fine lasting one. One that sustained her through the toughest of times.

She letting him work on her. Work on her body and work on her spirit. Let him work on and around the house. Work with her and move with her and tango with her and tangle and wrestle and wrangle and rope with her. She let him work on her heart. Let him do open heart surgery on it. Let him do his very own special brand of cardiology on her heart. And do it and do it so that her blood got flowing and gushing and raging and roaring and she flying high and feeling good and feeling fine and feeling alive. And alive and alive.

And alive.

And alive some more. And then some more yet still some more. And then yet still some more again. And again and agin and agin and some gin and some wine and some whiskey and she some kind of woman and he some sort of man. The sort who was loving her.

Alaska Black loving that Hank Green. Loving him and dancing with him and being close to him and knowing him and loving him and not leaving him but instead staying with him and dancing with him and sitting with him and talking with him and conversating with him and eating with him dining with him and traveling with him and working with him. And working with him and seeing him and she now right now looking at him and seeing him and holding on to him and holding him and hugging him and holding him close holding him next to her heart. Holding him and holding him close and holding him. She holding him. She holding him in her arms and moving with him dancing with him. They moving together. Moving and working it and working it and they working it and they singing it and doing it and performing it and being it being the dance being the music being the love and being the road being on the road and all over it and covering some miles easily. Covering some miles. Some miles. And some miles and miles and miles and the times and the sights passing and passing.

She and he working while on the road. She and he working on the road while on the road. Working and working. She and he working. And working and working. Working on everything. Working on the whole big picture. Working on the work. Working on the life. Working on the living. And on the loving. And on the cheering and the cheering and the celebrating and on the feeling good and feeling good.

And feasting good and feasting fine and lasting and deep and deep and long and long. And fast. And fun.

She dancing with him and sitting with him and relaxing with him. Relaxing and resting and breathing with him.

Monkey Munney

If the words of this little sample taste of the one hundred or so pages of this eBook have moved you in any way perhaps you might wish to konsider making an inquiry of any kind direkted at the publisher at And Finally...Thank You. And Thank You And Again Thank You. So Much. Many Thanks. For Everything. Most Especially For The Stuff That Is Kalled Love.