The Sweet Escape

Wow. I can’t even believe I did but I wrote something new. And it was short. And complete. Who am I??? And what have I done with the woman who writes 400,000 word stories and can’t finish them? Oh, wait. She’s still here.

Over at the fanfiction archive I thought it would be fun to do a challenge called AwesomeAugust, where writers sign up for a day and on that day, post a new, complete story that they want. It would get writers… well… writing and it would produce at least 31 new stories for the archive. We like new stories, and considering how dry the fandom is these days, new stories can breathe new life.

I hadn’t planned on doing one, because I didn’t have an idea. And then… with about 3 slots open, an idea came to me. And then I thought it was dumb and gave up my slot. And then I got some great advice and swallowed my pride at my ‘damn good idea’ cut it back to the beginning and re-wrote it and guh.

Can I say I love my own work? Is that egotistical? Oh well. I think it’s cute. It’s called, “Rescue Me” and borrows a little bit from Pretty Woman, which I know aired last night and that was a complete coincidence. I was trying to find a movie that two people could be watching at 4am and did a Google search and Pretty Woman popped up and I thought, Yes! there’s some great quotable lines in that! I already knew how I could mold some dialog around the lines and draw some parallels. I thought it turned out great.

A snippet? Don’t mind if I do (beware of language, this piece is Rate R):

“See, I liked the Julia Roberts character,” Gabby admitted, crunching on popcorn. “But I liked her friend more.”

“Kit De Luca? Yeah she’s a little spitfire. Every prostitute needs a great best friend.”

“Well, and I’ve had a girl crush on Laura San Giacomo, ever since The Stand.”

“Good flick,” he said, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Scary, though.”

“The good outweighs the scary. I love the part where they’re talking about the fairy tale, the Prince Charming, you know? And Vivian asks her who that ever worked out for, and Kit says, Cindafuckin’rella.” She laughed, adding, “I always wanted to be called that.”

“Not Gab-Gabriele?”

Gabby burst into delirious giggles, nearly choking on a kernel of popcorn. “Shut up! I didn’t know if I wanted you to know me as Gabby the fun girl, or Gabrielle, the serious writer. I wanted to make a good impression.”

“Honey, you wasted a good impression on a man who was falling down drunk.”

“Shhhh,”she hissed, tapping him on the chest. “I like this part…”

We‘re going to be spending an obscene about of money…

Exactly how obscene an amount of money were you talking about? Just… profane or really offensive?

“You like that part? Where the guy drags her to a shop and dresses her up so she fits into his LA wet dream and doesn‘t look like a…you know…” His voice trailed off, seemingly on purpose.

“Like a whore?” Gabby volunteered. “Okay, not the deeper meaning part, no. But I like the sarcasm and how it’s so Beverly Hills. To a tee.”

“Got that right.”

“You know… this is kind of ironic.”

“What is?”

“Us. Watching this movie. Okay, you said you didn’t want to be alone, tonight. In the movie, Edward picks up Vivian because he doesn’t want to be alone. And she thinks it’s just gonna be this quickie… thing. And I thought I was just dropping you off, on my way home. And he convinces her to stay.” She twisted around so she could see him, face to face. “And you won’t let me leave your house.”

He was almost smiling. Almost. He blinked, slowly, then asked, “If I agree to that irony, am I saying you‘re a prostitute?”

“No. You’re just agreeing to the irony.”

“Then… I should point out that it’s not really irony. More coincidental. You’re a writer. You should know that.”

She laughed, and then blushed. “Touché. I would have caught it, if I wasn’t tired. But what a coincidence, huh?”

Gabby wasn’t sure what she was doing. Or if he would even respond, but fuck it… she was leaving town anyway–may as well go out with a bang. All it took was a few seconds of concentrated staring, her eyes moving from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. He picked up on the hint and moved in, brushing his lips across hers and then opened his mouth.

Soft. Slow. Heady. Damn. He was a good kisser.

Et voila. *shrug* I like it.

This week I am trying hard to move Same Time Next Week forward. All I Wanna Do is at a pinnacle point right now and I need to be strategic about how I take it. I have sort of an avalanche of events that are going to hit my main character… the reader needs to feel her absolute despair. It has to be done right. And I feel like I might lose my grip on Same Time if I don’t give it some attention. I still have some fixing that needs to be done with that story.

Seems like I have a lot to do. Maybe I might finish both of these odysseys this year! I def want to finish Same Time before November. My 09 NaNoWriMo cannot still be hanging around when ’10 NaNo starts.

The weirdest thing has been happening, all week. Well, first of all, I’ve been writing. Which after such a dry spell is a great miracle. My latest entry of AIWD was so difficult to complete! I wrote the chapter three times and still didn’t really accomplish what I wanted with it, but the third rendition was the closest. I am learning to not be afraid to scrap things and start over. It’s never going to be perfect out of the gate.

Since I was having such a hard time with the last chapter of AIWD, I was longing for something new and different to write, to get me out of the funk. Something easy, or something that came to me easier, instead of struggling over every word and trying to make them string together and make perfect sense. And then….

Same Time Next Week… the bane of my existence… my unfinished 2009 NaNoWriMo… the story that was not going to be finished… started talking to me. It started telling me where I could back the story up to and where I could lop off the diseased portion and where I could take the story from the new jumping off point. I’ve been rearranging the last two days and tonight actually added new words. And got to a point tonight that makes me excited to jump in tomorrow. DRAMZ, ya’ll!

Ugh. So excited. And so happy that ideas are flowing, and that I’m not struggling. I just needed to focus on something different, and this story is much looser with language and sexuality so I can uh… let some things flow. LOL. I guess I just need the release and every once in while I need to pull myself out of AIWD and do something else. Since I can’t quite get started on that Criminal Minds fanfic. HA!

But seriously, it’s still rolling around in my brain. *smacks self* Stop it!

My only issue is how to post the new version at the archive because I already have great feedback on what’s there and some of that gets replaced. I’m hoping it will be alright to close the old version and re-upload the same story but a Redux version. So many things are moved around and added that it’d be hard to go in and edit the old chapters. And then the feedback wouldn’t make any sense.

But I think I want to finish it, before I even start to thinking about that…..but it’s nice to think about.

On Sunday, May 16, 2010 post your favorite flirty scene, either from one of your WIPs, or a brand new one you’ve written just for this blogfest. It can range anywhere from sweet to hot, and any genre is fair game…you don’t have to be a romance writer to participate!

I wrote something specifically for this Fest, but I kind of hate it. It’s so bland. Boo. Then I remembered a scene I really liked from my 2009 NaNoWriMo. It is edited from its original form but the gist is the same. Some steamy flirting going on, so this excerpt is Rated R.

Excerpted from Same Time Next Week:

Somewhere between the second shot and him letting her win at darts, Shelby decided that whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. It seemed like it was going that way-if he wasn’t to ask her to go home with him, he wouldn’t have asked if she was hungry. That sneak was trying to drag out the date!  She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, either.

‘Besides, I could use some of that, right now.’

The Dessert Lady was a cute little store front with striped awnings over the windows and tables for two set up around the small space. At the front of the store, a glass case was lined with rows and rows of cakes and pies from cherry to strawberry pie, from pound cake to chocolate cake to coffeecake. Shelby’s eyes lit up at the selection. Jackson was momentarily forgotten-she was lusting after the chocolate torte, sitting in the middle of the case.

“Have you had any of these, before?”

“Honey, I have had all of these before. They are all excellent. You’re a big fan of chocolate, right?  The torte is excellent…”

“I was looking at that…”

“Or the Six Layer Cake is really good, too… or the Oreo Cheesecake. I’m partial to the Peanut Butter Pie, myself.”

After a few minutes of slowly crawling the dessert case and drooling over each selection, Shelby made her decision, nodding at the decadent layers of chocolate in the middle of the case. “That torte is calling my name.”

Jackson ordered for the both of them, and then, despite being alone in the store, pulled her toward a table near the window, behind an oversized fringe curtain. The table was small, so small their knees bumped under it.

“So, you’ve been in Orlando all of four days. What do you think of it?”

Shelby gulped at the glass of water set in front of her. Three beers and two shots made for a very tipsy girl. She wanted all of her wits about her, later on. “I like it. It’s nice. I mean, a little frustrating at four am, but at least it’s quiet. I feel like I don’t get a moment’s peace in Miami. The city never sleeps. That gets tiring after awhile. So, yeah, it’s nice. I’m in Winter Park, actually. Real small town-ish.”

Jackson perked, sitting up straight, head tilted a little. “Wait. You live in Winter Park?” Shelby nodded, smiling. She had no idea where he lived exactly, just that he was rumored to have a home there. Winter Park wasn’t that big… he had to be close.  ”What part?”

“Off of Park, near Rollins College, I think it is?”

“Yeah, I’m not too far from there at all. Lake Virginia. How weird that we live so close to each other.”

“Well, if you think about it, not really. We met at the neighborhood grocery store. It’s not like I drove from Melbourne to shop at the Winter Park Publix.”

Jackson smirked, narrowing his eyes, mouthing a playful ‘smartass’ across the table. He was delightful. So funny and laid back. And cute. And so sexy. Every time he smiled at her, her stomach lurched and she felt warm inside.

‘Ask me already! I don’t want to go home tonight. How many more signals do I need to send??!’

“Here we are,” said the server, a short woman dressed in white, complete with baker’s hat. “Peanut butter pie and chocolate torte. Enjoy.” She slid two plates and two forks onto the table and left a stack of napkins.

“That looks so good,” she said, eyeing his plate, stacked high with a peanut butter-chocolate concoction.

“It is. Haven’t had it in a long time, actually.”  He sliced off a chunk and slid it into his mouth, his eyes closing as he chewed, a few light moans coming from his throat.

Shelby laughed at his dramatics. “Is it really, really good, Jackson? You look like you’re about to–”

He laughed, almost shooting peanut butter and chocolate out of his mouth. “Not yet,” he said, wiggling a brow at her while shoving another forkful in his mouth. “It is good though. Want to try some?”

“I’d love a taste.”  Jackson picked up his fork again, but she stopped him with a touch of her hand, shaking her head slowly, a hint of a smile on her lips, praying he would catch her hint. ”Not from there.”

He caught it, loud and clear, but seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do. He blinked, swallowed, and then, springing into action, reached under the table to grab a rung of her chair and slide her around so she was sitting next to him.  Wasting no time at all, he laid an arm over the back of her chair and leaned in, tilting his head toward her. She met him halfway, mouth open, eyes closed, heart racing.

Warm. And sweet, and soft and gentle, and oh my God. He was kissing her. And he was awesome at it.

His tongue rasped across hers, over and under and around, swirling, spreading the taste of peanut butter and chocolate with it. His lips were soft, brushing against hers over and over, light as air. Shelby fought herself every second, trying not to push the table back and climb onto his lap, sort of grateful he hadn’t touched more than her lips. She was already on the edge, and just about over the point of no return.

He pulled back, his eyes dark and hooded, but his expression gentle. “How was it?” he mumbled, his face still so close to hers.

“Delicious,” she answered, grinning, licking residual peanut butter taste off of her lips. Trying not to pant.

“Thank you. I enjoyed that myself.”

“Good. It’s uhm… rich. The Peanut Butter Pie.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s why I like it. Lots of flavor.” He stared at her, blinking every few seconds. She stared back, bold. Refusing to look away and pretend she was shy, despite how… intense his stare was.

“So, uhm, not asking about the past, but I know you don’t sleep well. Are you… are you tired, or…”

“Not at all.”

He cleared his throat, and swallowed again. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could go someplace a little more private. Do some real talking.”

“Really. Where would this place be?”

His tongue flicked out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. He reached for his water glass and sucked down half of it. Shelby’s eyes never left his face. He laughed, finally, looking at her again.  “Why are you making this so hard on me?”

She giggled, caught in the act. “Because you already know the answer.”

“I do?”

“You wanted me to suggest I go home with you? How many times am I gonna hear Jackson Pierce ask me to go home with him?”

The smile faded, slowly. His eyes dropped to her lips, and he kissed her again, this time more forceful and passionate, deep breaths through his nose, his lips pressing hard against hers, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth, fighting with hers. He grabbed the back of her head and held her against him, against his mouth while he kissed her. It was so damn hot… the hottest kiss she’d ever had. Ever.

He pulled back, ending the kiss in a smack, and before his eyes even opened, said, “Come home with me. Please.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice no higher than a whisper. “We should maybe get our dessert to go. I’ll want to eat this torte, later.”

“And I’ll want to taste it.” He leaned in to her, his lips almost touching her ear. “Maybe I could lick it off of some places, too.”

Shelby stood so fast, she nearly knocked the chair over. She shook, she was so excited, and had to calm herself down before they left the store, to- go boxes in hand. Jackson seemed to be in a hurry, pulling her down Church Street, then crossing the street and walking toward a dark blue Mercedes. The lights flashed and the door lock clicked with a mechanical sound.

“Well, shouldn’t I just follow you in my car?”

“Nah, just hop in. I’ll bring you back to your car.” He all but pushed her into the passenger seat and shut the door as soon as she was inside, then walked around the front of the car and got in on the driver’s side.

“Okay, Jackson?” Shelby laid a hand on his arm. She understood his pain… really, she did. But this rush job wasn’t very sexy and was ruining the mood. “Relax. It’s gonna happen. I’m not a tease. You don’t have to rush. Take your time.”

He exhaled, blowing out a long, slow breath. He laid a hand over hers and squeezed. “Sorry. I’m not rushing. I’m just…. I like you. I’m ready. And I want to do this. Like, yesterday.”

“I know. I want that, too. Just slow down, a little. Be gentle. For now.”  She teased him, scraping a fingernail lightly down his arm. He groaned and squirmed in the seat, shoving the key into the ignition and turning it roughly.

“Lady…”  Jackson heaved a sigh, looked toward the heavens as if he was mentally thankking every higher power that existed, whether he believed in them or not. “You’ve been killing me, all night long. I cannot wait to get you home.” He grabbed her hand and shoved it between his legs, wrapping her fingers around the mass curled up in the front of his jeans. “Don’t you dare move that. Don’t even think about it.”

Et voila.

More fanfiction updates. WEEEE! This story is coming along, albeit slowly. Ch 43 is up at my archive and also the NFiction archive.  The title of the chapter (You Are the Words, I Am the Tune) will have Neil Diamond replaying through my brain for about a week Can’t you just hear Neil singing?

Song she sang to me
Song she brang to me
Words that rang in me
Rhyme that sprang from me
Warmed the night
And what was right
Became me

You are the sun
I am the moon
You are the words
I am the tune
Play me

Last week, I had some “genius” idea to incorporate a drving game into my next chapter. Mainly because my characters are on a road trip and there’s really no way to make driving interesting. It’s 99% dialog. What do people talk about, on road trips? Stuff. Stupid stuff. And they play car games to pass the time.

If you’ve ever seen the show Whose Line Is It Anyway (American remake of the British version), you’ve seen this game in action. It’s call Song Titles and you basically have to have a conversation ONLY in song titles. It’s HILARIOUS. Both on TV and in my story. I thought it turned out well. And it took up some story real estate. It also provided a point to keep coming back to. Past the actual game, my male main character would shout out song titles where appropriate in later conversations.

This is one of the most amazing things about writing… I’ve never said I’m writing a classic, here. I mean, it’s fan fiction, a glorified celebrity fantasy and so in and of itself not realistic or anything. But it’s my practice, and I really enjoy it. My favorite part of writing is when I am type type typing away and something just… happens. It’s like my fingers know the story and I am just watching it play out.

At some point in my recount of a day in San Antonio, I decided my male MC needed sunglasses. He’s a cheapskate’s cheapskate, though. A bit of a miser in that he doesn’t really spend money unnecessarily. He wants the shades. They’re great shades. Female MC wants him to get them, to treat himself. He won’t do it. She buys them for him and gives them to him, rather casually and unceremoniously- such is the nature of their relationship.  He looks down at them, and…. this comes out of nowhere, from my fingers to the page, asks,

“Guess what song I’m thinking of right now?”

I rolled by eyes and turned on my heel, headed toward the food vendors. “No.”

“Come on,” he whined, following me. “It was your game. Your idea. Guess.”

“I already know, cheese ball.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it!”

I  turned around, pulled the shades off of his face and hung them back on his shirt. “Sunglasses at Night. And I’m never playing games with you ever again.”

I didn’t plan that. It just happened. I love that, when the story writes itself.

Ahh. Amazing.

I’ve got to get to work on Ch 44. The home stretch. Not the last chapter, but the last roadtrip chapter. It’s been such a fun journey. Then I have to plan “Christmas”…. believe it or not, we’re still climbing to the climax. Gonna be INTERESTING. And I have an emotional, sweet, passionate ending in mind. Can’t wait!

Till then… pen in hand,

Chapter 41 is complete and up at the Archive. It was a pretty simple chapter to write, and some things actually surprised me by coming out while I was writing it.  Most importantly, I got something that I can build on for future chapters. Know what that’s called? PLOT! WOOP!

I’m having an issue with another story in that I am horribly stuck but I want to finish the story so badly. I’m unable to go back and figure out what’s not working, though. It’s just…boring and I can’t figure out how to extend it or rewrite it or… SIGH. It’s been sitting for quite some time. It’s actually my 2009 NaNo piece. I’d sure love to call that thing done before NaNo 2010 starts. :|

I have great samples that can be polished/ rewritten and submitted, just for practice.

Gee.. I gotta make everything so hard.

I am thinking of revamping Calm Waves and Smooth Moon. Giving it a new title and a little more story and submitting it to a short story archive. Have to check to see if it has to have not appeared elsewhere first, since I put everything in my personal archive.

After that, I’ll get some prompts and get to writing something new as well as plan out the next chapter of All I Wanna Do… I also want to have something submitted to The Glimmer Train by the end of March. I could aim for the end of February but that’s not a lot of time to produce a quality piece.

Going to do it. HAVE to.

Pen in Hand,