ROMANCIN' THE DINKS!

– The Kiss-and-Tell Seriocomedy

63,776 words/248 pages

Book One is quintessentially Eleanor.

Will the heir apparent be smashed? Trashed? Beaten?

During the high-stakes pickleball cruise, champs train while losers complain. Showcasing shocking hijinks like backhands of hooch dreams, underworld schemes,

titanic hands plus enough of Ma's berry-bush smiles

to thwart any ingenue.

59,765 words/249 pages

Book Two is unabashedly the actor, Simon Boone.
As Simon hovers onstage, Olive gasps, “Romance me!” Now, going that hard or going home revives her mystery forcing big-city pickleball fundraisers like the Reverend Argus, Kloot the Loot, sexy Trixy and Mighty Andy Boone to battle a savage alter ego . . .

whose act will survive?

65,461 words/249 pages

For the trilogy finale, Eleanor and Simon Boone

suffer trysts cause the past got scary backhand!

Free spirits meat volley Eleanor and Simon Boone

while curses spook both into an out-of-bounds passion

as ghastly as their volleys of helplessness . . .

as provocative as a telenovela, can either lead

romance happy?

BOOK ONE

BONA FIDES

Eleanor Holon – the wild child on her virgin cruise

plus her first Pickleball la fin de l’exercice.

D. A. Holon – the Creator, the corona, hey Zeus,

the pickleball man, the small village’s FDR, and Dad.

The Titan Argus – former Holon flimflammer,

also the southern foothills mover & shaker who

spreads pickleball fever.

La Honey – Eleanor’s Ma plays easy-peasy

berry-bush squeezy.

Major Ref – the pickleball official.

Pritch – a shifty, shady employee of the

Peace O’ Boona.

1.

AND SO WHERE SKIES WERE EVER CLOUDY ALL DAY, the heroine should have been warned. Her lone crime was she never had dinked so the kid got groomed American-style when the big shot had attacked,

“A dark conspiracy—”

“A happy ending?”

Prone to propagandize her dad had glared, “It’s about

fixin’ us elites in power.”

“That’s too addictive.”

“It’s not a cult.”

“It’s noisy.”

And as usual raised his heavier-than-crap racket.

“No, champs train. Losers complain.”

“I’m not kissable.” Despite, young Eleanor zipped her smile, side-shuffled crooked then puckered curvy lips, “Mwah . . . so never paying bills? Dinking folks

for thrills?”

2.

NOW OFFICIALLY ONBOARD, pickled folks saw newbies like Eleanor beat—

“Hey, like mother, like daughter!”

As her Ma bounced into his cabin, Eleanor flinched.

La Honey slipped loose a laugh slow as time ever ticked.

Then spied straight at D. A. Holon’s wad. That one had left a thick wallet on his stateroom bed.

Eleanor’s sight swung like an errant pop-up. . . .

“That better?” asked La Honey, “let it go.”

Apparently with no recourse, Eleanor at last acknowledged, “Ma—”

“Clap!” La Honey gave props, of course, though she had not in what must have seemed ages since last cruise

and that dark must have been her foothills worst!

Then exhaled, “Comprenez-vous?” At no response, finally answered, “A dash of futility?”

Turning, Eleanor seemed to have caught her own hoody shrug—simple course for the unlimited luxury ship stateroom mirrors reflecting unlimited cruise entrées, so

at this moment the shapelessness of her workout clothes must have cringed her game.

La Honey swiped at her lips, “It’s Pickleball Fever. But any off State Road 54 knows you, sweet Eleanor, should win the tournament.”

At that, Eleanor jabbed for the door knob!

“D. A. preaches you gotta go hard or go home—”

Sudden-like, the heir-apparent about-faced out.

"True. How authentic am I." Then twisting in the ship’s narrow hall, promptly slammed against a wall. Indeed, now dark flew like a fiend to smack her fresh-eyed America low from which she could not spring quite.

Still volleying from inside, “Eleanor, it’s pointless to struggle. . . .”

Unranked kin of pickleball gods were not supposed to be kiss-'n-telling—much less balling angelic floaters!

In spite of that, Eleanor stumbled out of bounds

then half-sung, “My never paying bills, dinking

pickleballs ’n thrills. . . .”

3.

VAIN DAYS LIKE THESE, Ma trended alone—“Like my chunky boots?”

Not too surprisingly, cruising on the luxury ship

Peace O’ Boona suited La Honey's responsibilities—

Was it her who nurtured wide after what most of the land would call seconds? And, certainly no pearly smile due to mock berry-cheeked bravery surviving fearful odds during Pickleball Fever, but rather a big berry-cheeked puffing behind the scenes forcing puckers because betting on

D. A. Holon scored best score though most court partners married not—'cept scant ages back, pickled relations

bore legends.

Course folks had learned the tourney ditched riches quicker than billowing clouds.

Her smile repeated, La Honey hooched best with

D. A. Holon—

- Broderick, Mark. (2026). Romancin’ the Dinks! (pp. 4-6).