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    Down on the Corner of Love
    Down on the Corner of Love
    Down on the Corner of Love
    Ebook52 pages39 minutes

    Down on the Corner of Love

    By Sharon E. Cathcart

    ()

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    About this ebook

    To find love...

    ...she needs to meet someone who understands her.

    Being a civil rights activist isn't easy in rural Louisiana. Raine's found herself ostracized and alone because she's a woman who speaks her mind.

    Fed up, she leaves her country world behind for beautiful San Francisco, where the culture is thriving with exciting new music and fashion.

    These are her people.

    Raine meets a new best friend, Jo, who is free-spirited and living life to the fullest, but Jo's entangled in more danger than Raine's ready for.

    Raine’s world turns upside down when she meets the most far out man she's ever encountered.

    Readers who love history, flower power, and the wild times of the 1960s will be wowed by "Down on the Corner of Love."

    This edition of Pocketful of Stories also contains a sample from Sharon E. Cathcart’s award-winning novel, “Bayou Fire.”
    Buy it now!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSharon E. Cathcart
    Release dateMar 22, 2019
    ISBN9780463533994
    Down on the Corner of Love
    Author

    Sharon E. Cathcart

    Award-winning author Sharon E. Cathcart (she/her) writes historical fiction with a twist!A former journalist and newspaper editor, Sharon has written for as long as she can remember and generally has at least one work in progress.Sharon lives with her husband and several rescue cats in the Silicon Valley, California.

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      Book preview

      Down on the Corner of Love - Sharon E. Cathcart

      Down on The Corner of Love

      Pocketful of Stories No. 4

      Copyright Sharon E. Cathcart, 2019

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      All rights reserved

      This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the authors, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

      The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author.

      With the exception of historical persons and events cited in the text, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons is entirely coincidental.

      Cover design by Sharon E. Cathcart. Cover photo by Tobias Kleinlercher/Wikipedia CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0), from Wikimedia Commons. Use of this photo does not imply endorsement by the photographer of this book’s content.

      Other Titles in This Series

      Last Stop: Storyville

      Yellowjack and the Riverman

      A Light Across the Lake

      Down on the Corner of Love

      Pocketful of Stories No. 4

      Sharon E. Cathcart

      For the wild-eyed boy from Freecloud

      D.R.J.

      1947-2016

      and

      For Daddy

      W.C.E.

      1937-2019

      Down on the Corner of Love

      When Jo Cooper introduced himself to me (I’m Jo, no E.), he seemed like an elfin version of Oscar Wilde. His blonde curls hung in a riot around his face, and his pink ruffled shirt set off his coloring perfectly. He was barely taller than me, and chattered a mile a minute. We were in the basement laundry room of our San Francisco apartment building. My hair was tied back with a thick, purple hank of yarn that didn’t quite match my sleeveless, mock turtleneck shell and coordinating pedal pushers. I was also wearing a horrible pale lipstick. Revlon’s Silver City Pink, to be precise; a color that Jo says only looks good on the sisters. Against my pale skin, it was almost sickly. Fashionable, but sickly. I could almost hear Jo tut-tutting my outfit as he looked me up and down over the rims of his wire-framed granny glasses. Not that I blamed him.

      Jo told me which apartment he lived in and asked if he could borrow some of my fabric softener. I handed over the jug, and he poured a capful into a washer full of colorful clothes.

      As for me, I was swearing like a stevedore. Despite having consumed my quarters and dimes, the washer would not. Jo gave the recalcitrant machine a sharp kick and it began to fill.

      Jo lived exactly one floor above me. We were both lucky enough to have units with bay windows overlooking Cole Street. Almost immediately, we started running back and forth to visit each other; it was as though we’d been friends forever.

      I lived alone. My apartment had simple furnishings in far too many shades of beige. My closet was filled with A-line skirts and jumpers that I’d run up with yardage from Discount Fabrics and patterns by Butterick. Coordinating Peter Pan collar blouses and some rather matronly cardigans filled my work wardrobe; slacks and tops for weekends took up the other side of the closet. Jo said I needed much more color in my life.

      My first visit to Jo’s apartment was

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