Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Persephone Autumn (black authors fiction TXT) đź“–
![](/uploads/posts/books/3/1/8/3/5/kniga-through-the-lens-click-duet-1-bay-area-duet-series.jpg)
- Author: Persephone Autumn
Book online «Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Persephone Autumn (black authors fiction TXT) 📖». Author Persephone Autumn
Through the Lens
Click Duet - Book One
Persephone Autumn
Between Words Publishing LLC
Through the Lens
Copyright © 2021 by Persephone Autumn
www.persephoneautumn.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, or it was purchased on a site I do not advertise I sell on, then it was pirated illegally. Please purchase a copy of your own on a platform where the author advertises she distributes and respect the hard work of this author.
ISBN: 978-1-951477-12-7 (Ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-951477-13-4 (Paperback)
Editor: Ellie McLove | My Brother’s Editor
Proofreader: Rosa Sharon | My Brother’s Editor
Cover Design: Kat Savage | Kat Savage Designs
Books by Persephone Autumn
Standalone Romance Novels
Depths Awakened
Sweet Tooth
Devotion Series
Distorted Devotion
Undying Devotion
Beloved Devotion
Bay Area Duet Series
Click Duet
Through the Lens
Time Exposure
Inked Duet
Fine Line
Love Buzz
Poetry Collections
Ink Veins
Broken Metronome
Standalone Horror Novels
By Dawn (published under P. Autumn)
To every person who’s had their heart ripped in two. Who thought they’d never find love again.
Contents
Through The Lens
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
To be continued…
Thank You
Click Duet Playlist
More by Persephone
Connect with Persephone
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Through The Lens
Photography term.
Through-the-lens (TTL) metering refers to a feature of cameras whereby the intensity of light reflected from the scene is measured through the lens; as opposed to using a separate metering window or external hand-held light meter.
Chapter One
Cora
Is this real? This cannot be real.
I ball my fingers into loose fists, rub my eyes, and look ahead once more. Yep, still there. Still strutting around like a peacock fanning its tail feathers. How fortunate are we to bear witness to this monumental event? An event we could all live another day without seeing. An event I pray never repeats itself.
For the love of all that is good in this world, please make it end.
On the compact stage of our favorite bar and grill, a seventy-something grandpa wears an eighties rock band muscle tank top, ripped jeans, and faded black Converse high-tops that have seen better days. He holds the mic to his mouth, tips his head back, and belts out the words to Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” Some might say, what’s the big deal. Let the old man enjoy life. And I would probably agree.
But singing is not all he is doing. Nope. Karaoke grandpa has added a little “show” to his rendition. Giving the crowd something to remember. For life.
Not ten seconds ago, he picked up his full glass of water, tipped his head back, and poured it down his chest, driving us all down wet T-shirt contest lane. The crowd whistles and eggs him on, and he eats up every cheer given. Flaunts his man chest through the wet tank. But wait, it keeps getting better. Now… Some dumbass walked up to the stage and just handed him a soft-serve ice cream cone. Since when did the bar serve…
What the hell is he…
Oh. My. God!
No he isn’t. Please tell me he did not just…
My hands fly up and mask my gaping mouth. My eyes unable to do anything except stare. I shake my head, barely noticeable to anyone not at my table.
How is this happening? How is it I am here right now? This will undoubtedly be scarred into my cerebral cortex for the rest of my life. Marked in my mental scrapbook for years of reference. A tale told to grandchildren to make them laugh at their grandfather.
Not only is grandpa up on the makeshift stage, singing to the world like he is fifty years younger. Not only has he ripped off his wet T-shirt and flashed his elderly man-boobs to the cat-calling natives. Now he has taken his soft-serve vanilla and is smearing it all over his now exposed nipples. But that is not the worst of it. Nope. Not even close. Because he just brought the dripping cone to his lips and is sucking on the dairy confection as if his life depends on it.
Gag!
Somehow, I manage to break my eyes away from the geriatric porn in front of me and glance over at Shelly and Jonas. When I see that both of their expressions are equally as awestruck as mine, all I do is laugh. I have yet to figure out if we are fortunate to have seen this. Or if we are being punished for something. It’s a crapshoot.
“Are you two seeing what I’m seeing?” I ask, already knowing the answer. To be honest, I want to hear their interpretation of it all. There is no way I can be the only one thinking this is nutty as hell. Karaoke Grandpa has definitely fallen off his rocker.
“I think I need to go home and bleach my eyes. Some things cannot be unseen. Some things should never be seen,” Shelly says on a chuckle.
“Mad props to the old-timer. One, such as myself, can only hope I’m that fucking cool when I’m his age,” Jonas states, an echo of pride in his voice. I giggle as he sits taller on his stool.
And when he glances my way, his sweet smile lights up his face. The one that makes the dimple on his left cheek pop. The dimple that makes me question why we are only friends. Why does that
Comments (0)