Friday, June 24, 2011

A new first page for Good Clean Sex



Good Clean Sex

“He’s gay.”
“He’s not. You’re just jealous.”
Jason Fillmore was not jealous of the exotic dancer his fiancé had chosen for her bachelorette party. He knew for a fact that Javier Sanchez was gay.
Brooke Quimby leaned forward in her desk chair, peering more closely at the screen, as if she expected his sexual orientation to be tattooed on his smooth brown chest.  “He is awfully pretty. What if you’re right? It’ll ruin the party.”
 “It won’t ruin the party. No one will even notice.”
“You noticed.”
“I’m a guy. We have gay radar. Anyway, I could be wrong,” said Jason feeling only slightly guilty for the lie. He didn’t want to hurt Javier’s chances for good tips.
“Well, it’s too late to book anyone else,” said Brooke.
The bachelorette party was in two days, the wedding in three.
“I’m sure he’ll do a fine job,” said Jason.
Brooke stood up and turned toward him. Her hair was honey- blonde, her eyes pale blue, and her body slim and shapely. Jason had known her since middle school, when he’d thought of her only as his best friend’s annoying little sister.
“Are you sure you don't mind me having this party?”
“Of course I don't mind,” said Jason.
“But it doesn't feel right that you aren’t having a bachelor party.” She put her arms around his neck.
Jason rested his hands on her tiny waist. “I don't feel the need. Anyway, my best friend is your sister and I can’t picture Kendra hiring strippers, and throwing me a bachelor party.”
 Brooke’s pretty mouth twisted into an ugly frown. “She might like it. I’ve wondered for a while now if Kendra is a lesbian and in denial. I mean she’s twenty-three and she’s never been in a relationship.”

I decided to try starting this story with a diferent point of veiw character. Does this beginning work better than the other one?

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Slacking Off

I was planning to keep up on my blogging, but this damn tendonitis is slowing everything down. I'm scheduled for surgery on July thirteenth. Trying to keep a positive attitude about it. It will be so nice to once again be able to write with both hands for more than a few minutes at a time! I'm working on a short story that I plan to submit to a Cleis Press cowboy anthology and I'm thinking that Eternal Ecstasy will be my next novella.
Happy Reading everyone!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Eternal Ecstasy first page



Eternal Ecstasy

Chapter One
Ivy Winston was pretty sure she wasn’t crazy, but it worried her that her roommates didn’t hear the grunts and moans and screams that awakened her mid-day. The row house Ivy shared with three other women was only a few blocks from the hospital where she worked the graveyard shift as an emergency room nurse. It was in an upper middle class San Francisco neighborhood and there were no mental hospitals or sex clubs nearby to explain the sounds that seemed to be caused by two very different emotions, agony and ecstasy.
Desperate for a good days rest after a grueling weekend of tending to the sick, injured, and stupid—a man who shot his own foot while cleaning his gun, and a teenage boy who nearly drank himself to death on a dare—Ivy fell into bed late one Monday morning positive that today she would sleep like the dead. And then it began. One woman kept crying oh God, oh God, before abruptly changing her tone, and cursing God. A man uttered one uh, uh, after another but just when Ivy expected to hear a satisfied end grunt he let out an anguished cry.
Ivy didn’t know whether to be jealous of what these people were getting, or dismayed at the lack of happy endings. Either way, she couldn’t stand another minute of not knowing who and where these people were and why they were getting so much, when she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had sex. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true.

Pick a favorite!

We all know the importance of a good first page. Grab the reader with the first line, and keep em hanging on every word until the last page! Simple right? And if we cut a hundred calories a day and walk for ten minutes, we'll be bikini ready by June 1st! Yeah, uh-uh, right. Still, I love writing first pages. As I've mentioned before, it's kind of an addiction. I can spend weeks, months, years even, revising a first page. Of course it doesn't do much good if there's no last page. I've posted the first page for Betty, which sold to the first publisher I sent it to (Red Sage) and the first page of two works in progress, Good Clean Sex, a steamy contempory and Eternal Ecstasy (comedy erotic demon story) I would love to hear from you on which one you like best and if these first pages would entice you to read the second page.

First Page of Good Clean Sex--- Does it grab your attention?

Good Clean Sex
Sitting at her kitchen table, laptop open in front of her, Kendra Quimby read the profile of thirty –year- old business owner Pierce, for what she guessed was the tenth time. Pierce was by far the most attractive man who had responded to her ad with the dating service.  Six feet tall exactly, 170 pounds, dark hair, a goatee, and dark blue eyes. He’d never been married, wasn’t a parent, didn’t drink or smoke, or own a pet, and admitted to being a bit of a neat freak. He liked games of all kinds, with the exception of mind games. He was looking to meet someone ‘real’, someone who didn't read tabloids, idolize pop singers, or watch reality television.
Everything he’d written jibed well with Kendra’s own qualities and interests. For two days now she’d been coming back to this page, staring at his face, trying to see what kind of person resided behind those intense blue eyes. She hadn’t yet responded to his suggestion that they chat.  
Kendra kept telling herself that he was too good looking. She had a nice figure, but considered her face to be quite average. Her fashion sense was non existent, her style basic, bland even, or so her sister always said. ‘A little color wouldn't kill you Kendra.’ For God’s sake put on some blush, you look like you’re headed for the morgue.’
 Every birthday and Christmas Brooke gave Kendra some inappropriate, useless, gift. There was the pair of Peacock earrings, with giant feathers, the bright red lipsticks and nail polishes, colorful scarves, and a zebra striped belt. Kendra kept them all in a box in her closet. The day that Brooke had announced her engagement, to the man that Kendra had been in love with since the eighth grade, Kendra had wrapped the box in wedding paper, and put a huge bow on it. She planned to give it to Brooke as a wedding present, as it represented all that Brooke was, and all that Kendra wasn’t. If Kendra had been more like Brooke, would she be the one marrying Jason Fillmore?

First Page of Betty Being Bad


Betty Being Bad

 “What are you wearing, Betty?”
This was the cue that Carson wanted to play the game. If Betty answered, ‘white cotton panties’ the visit would remain casual. Betty had promised herself that from now on it was the only answer she’d give. She’d even practiced saying the words out loud on the way here. So why was she hesitating?
“Its Ray today,” said Carson, tilting his head in the direction of the guard.
Ray was the nice one. He overlooked small infractions and even joked with the prisoners. Still, Ray had nothing to do with Betty’s decision. It was the look of expectation on Carson’s face that did it. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Betty scooted her chair closer to his. “I’m wearing the thigh-high black boots and the black leather biker vest.”
“And under the vest?”
“Nothing. It’s so tight Carr that it pushes them up and out.”
“Pushes what up Betty?” Carson’s light brown eyes opened wide, in mock innocence.
Betty had always loved his eyes, even back in middle school when she found him annoying. In the years since, their relationship had gone from friendship, to flirtation, to a few drunken make-out sessions, and back to friendship again. The game wasn’t changing anything, Betty told herself. It was just a way to add a little warmth to his long cold days. She sat up straighter, as if she really were wearing the vest, as if Carr were at this very moment eyeing her cleavage, rather than the front of her navy turtleneck, sweater-dress. “You know what.”
“Say it for me,” said Carson.
“You know I don’t like to use those kinds of words,” said Betty pressing her knees together and primly folding her hands in her lap.
His hand came to rest on hers. “Please. For me?”
Betty faked a sigh, “All right but just this once.”

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Another seven pages today!

Seven pages. I'm on a roll with this one. I just have to keep going...all the way to the end. Wish my wrist wasn't screamng at me. PT is not working. As much as I hate the idea of surgery, it's starting to sound like my best option. I read in the paper that chronic pain affects brain function. I now have an excuse for being forgetful and unfocused, and thankfully it's not early onset of Alzheimers. Healing the pain is supposed to heal the brain as well, and my brain definitely needs work.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Seven pages today!

It's been a long time since I've written seven pages in one day. It's slow going since I have to take constant breaks to rest my right hand. Stupid tendinitis. I'm fifty one pages into Good Clean Sex (formerly called Take Me Tonight) and feeling pretty good about it. Hoping to find an agent for this one, and go the traditional route. Only about 250 more pages to go!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Betty is out!

As of today I am officially published! Betty Being Bad, a contemporary erotic romance is at Red Sage Publishing.