THURSDAY THROW OUT

Hi all,
got a little something for you, its not much but I posted some of it on my personal wall earlier this week..here is the whole scene.




**

“So what makes Storm Jasper tick? I am very intrigued by you. How did you get into writing books? What is your personal life like? I can’t even imagine being a writer; it must be such an interesting field.” He has had one beer, and I am on my fourth (or maybe fifth) shot of whiskey. I cannot help but scoff at his interest in being a writer. Does he not know that we writers are shut-ins that would rather live in our fantasy world, than venture into the real world of pain and rejection? At least that is what I have been told by the throngs of losers I have dated.  He raises an eyebrow at my obvious abrupt reaction to his eager line of questioning. “What? Have I said something to offend you?”

At this point, I am incredibly tipsy, almost full on drunk, but not quite. I shortly consider his inquiry, but my filter is barely functional when I am sober, so the floodgates are about to open. He looks like me as if I am a question that needs answering. I know I am not much to look at, besides my ample curves and plain features, my mouth has been known to send a man running in seconds flat. Hell, I wrote a book about it.

“You do know that Shit Storm was based on my life right?” I don’t actually wait for him to answer, because, I have an ON switch, and this poor bastard inadvertently tripped it. “Well, about five years ago I sat down, after a particularly bad breakup, and decided to write a book telling other women how not to find the love of their life. I was me pouring my soul on to paper, opening every wound, and reliving every nightmare I have had the displeasure of experiencing firsthand.

Since then, men won’t come anywhere near me for fear I will turn them into my next book villain. Though I never mentioned a single name, for some reason the men I dated figured out which character was based on them personally. They created a Facebook page… a fucking Facebook page. I was black listed, deleted from several dating sights, received death threats, I had to quit my job and move out of my hometown just to have a semblance of a normal life. Since then I had to start a new career transcribing medical records from home, just to avoid being seen in public. I started writing under a pen name so I could hide from the group of men determined to end my writing career. It wasn’t until my book took off that I could come out of hiding.“

At this point, I am basically frantic. During that entire narrative, I am pretty sure I pictured myself standing in a lecture hall for all to see. A much less terrifying option than the fact that I just dumped my guts on the table in front of the cover model I have been lusting after for over a year. I glance up at him, amazed he is still sitting there. He looks more concerned than appalled which is a relief. However, at the same time, I feel a sudden rush of emotion, as if I need to profess my deepest secrets to him. The levee breaks yet again, and poor Jax is subjected to yet another verbal onslaught as the tears start to pour silently down my cheeks.

“You know the worst part is, I don’t really need a man to feel complete, but I miss kissing. I miss the simple feeling of tongues tangling and breath mingling. I miss the intimacy of someone wanting to press their lips to mine just so they can taste me. It is simple and erotic and I can barely stand how much I miss it. “ I hear a sob rip from my chest as Jax leans in and pulls me to his side. It is a simple side hug, but it is comforting, and more than I deserve from someone who is a complete stranger. I draw a ragged breath in and confess.”I am actually here to sign you as the cover model for my next book. I suppose now that you have seen me in this state that would rather go with other options. I can’t guarantee that people won’t find out my pen name and black list me. It would be an honor if you would consider it though.”

Jax lifts my downturned face to his with his finger, looking into my eyes. The sweetest smile crosses his perfect lips, as he leans in an gives me the most chast of kisses.  Another tear slides down my chin, but this time it is for that sweet innocent kiss. I know it holds no other meaning beyond him waning me to feel better, but it still means so much more to me.

“I should make sure you get to your room unscathed. I don’t think you need a repeat performance of yesterday’s graceful display.” He pokes me in the ribs and I flinch, somehow finding a giggle buried deep within me. Jax stands and proffers his arm. Men don’t realize that these small gestures of chivalry are the most amazing things to us. It takes me a few tics to wrap my booze-clouded brain around his offer before I slowly reach for his elbow.

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cest le vies ..have a great memorial day weekend