Table Of ContentPublished by Silver Publishing
Publisher of Erotic Romance
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Nina Smith
New Lives © 2012 Anel Viz
ISBN # 9781614955597
Attention Readers: This book uses US English.
All rights reserved.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
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DEDICATION
The people to whom I dedicate this book would prefer to
remain anonymous.
Furthermore, they have threatened to assume new identities
if I reveal their names.
In the unlikely event they become known, I wish them luck
in their New Lives.
TRADEMARKS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and
trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned
in this work of fiction:
iPad: Apple Inc.
Independent Erotic Film Festival: Barnaby Ltd dba Good
Vibrations
Antiques Roadshow: British Broadcasting Corporation
"I can tell everyone absolutely Anel Viz pays not
the slightest attention to any 'rules' and certainly none to
any advice from me. I can also tell you that he always
makes it work. I've yet to read anything of his (and
everything is entirely unique) that wasn't absolutely first-
rate. When you are as good as he is, you don't need anyone
telling you how to do it."
—Victor Banis
"[Anel Viz] is far more than a competent writer, and
the more you read his work the more you recognize the
wry, even ironic smile lurking behind the professionalism.
It is a kind if somewhat amused or even skeptical view of
people who struggle through their lives."
—Wilde Oats, Aug 2012
NOTE TO THE READER
The book you are about to read is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, places and incidents contained herein
are either the product of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, is not merely coincidental—it is utterly
preposterous.
Life is not a bowl of cherries, since you can only lose yours
once.
New Lives Anel Viz
PART I. PAY DIRT
~ 1 ~
His great-great-great-great-grandfather, give or take
a great, had founded the town, if you could call it that.
They didn't call places villages or hamlets in his part of the
country, they called 'em towns no matter how small they
were. Less than thirty people lived in this one, all of 'em in
trailers or converted trailers. One of the original houses was
still standin', what was left of it, all lopsided and weather-
beaten, but it had been condemned long before his mother
was born, and it sat vacant for ages before that. Rusted-out
motor vehicles had come to replace rotten timbers. The
only two real buildin's in town were the general store with
gas pumps out front and a small garage attached to the side
of it, and the one-story, thirty-foot-square block of poured
concrete with no windows that was the bar—or saloon,
accordin' to the sign—an' that was nearly always empty.
That sign, salvaged by a previous owner from the remains
of the old saloon before it disappeared, was the only thing
still in use that dated back to when the people who settled
there still had hopes the town would prosper.
It wasn't bein' a direct descendent of the town's
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New Lives Anel Viz
founder that made him special. He was prob'ly the only
descendant of the original population who still lived
there—his family had moved back there themselves after
bein' gone from it for a generation or two—and no one else
knew there was a relationship. He wasn't sure he believed it
himself. He'd heard the story from Grandad, and Connie
had told him he was named after that ancestor, but there
had been a couple of grandmothers mixed in with all them
grandfathers, so they didn't have the same last name. He'd
forgotten it anyway. His was the same as Connie and
Grandad's, and they were both gone now, so he couldn't ask
them what it was. Maybe it'd come back to him. It didn't
make no difference anyhow, since that foundin' ancestor of
his'n hadn't given his name to the place for the people who
lived there now to recognize. Good thing too—he woulda
hated bein' stuck with a name like Otis Paydirt. But of
course that wouldn't a happened, thanks to them
grandmothers that come in between.
Nobody knew that he was special, and he wanted it
to stay that way. He'd a liked it better if he weren't special,
but he was. He knew that now that he was twenty-six, but it
took him a while to figger it out, and he was none too
happy about it when he did. At least it was easy to keep
secret. It suited him jes' fine that ever'body thought the
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