Another sample and a new cover!

Mona is about to go on her first date with her neighbor, Doug Keegan.  But first they stop for drinks at a friends house.

      ……………………………………

They both came to meet us as we came around to the back yard.  Scott, very short and bleached blond, kissed me on both cheeks. “I love the idea of you two dating,” he gushed.  “Even if it is just for practice.  You’re perfect together.  Really.  My blessings on you both.”

Steve, much taller and also bleached blond, rolled his eyes.  “I can’t wait for the he-said, she-said.  You both need to report in tomorrow.  Mona, you come early for coffee.  Doug, sometime after lunch.”

I looked at Doug.  “Did you tell the whole block?”

“I posted it on the community bulletin board.” He laughed and wandered off, returning with two tall drinks, colored bright pink and tasting of rum.  We sipped and scanned the crowd.  Scott and Steve tended to invite anyone they happened to meet, not just the usual suspects, so there was always someone to giggle about. 

Doug spotted her first, and whispered wickedly in my ear.  “Look.  It’s Our Lady of the Bodacious Ta-Tas.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered back.  “And I think they’re real.”

I recognized her as the woman renting the house at the corner.  Her breasts were stupendous.  And I am a keen observer of breasts.  Since I’ve spent so many years writing about them, frantically searching for the right adjectives and, in some cases, adverbs, to describe them, I’ve become an expert observer.  In fact, for a heterosexual woman, I spend an inordinate amount of time looking at and thinking about women’s mammaries.  But this woman was off the scale.

They started about four inches below her chin, jutting out like the prow of a ship, then cutting back in about three inches above her belt buckle.  She was showing ample cleavage, enough to reveal not the perfect rounds of flesh so easily identified as silicone, but the soft, undulating skin that God alone can create.

She glanced our way, must have seen us staring, and waved before working her way through the crowd to where we were standing.  I imagined that, in her head, each step was accompanied by a little brass band playing ‘ba-boom, ba-boom’.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly, “I’m Vicki Montrose.  I’m renting the Keller place.  You’re Mona Berman.  I love your books.  I can’t believe I’m meeting you.  I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

I tried to look modest.  Doug tried to look anywhere but down the front of her shirt.  “Thank you, Vicki. It’s nice to meet you.  This is Doug Keegan.  He lives right next to Scott and Steve.  He’s famous too.  He invented Death Ride 66.  Ever hear of it?”

She turned to Doug, forcing his eyes up.  “Yes.  My sons play it all the time.  It’s terribly violent, isn’t it?”

I could see the strain of his keeping his eyes on her face.  “Yes.  But it made me a lot of money.  You should have your sons come over.  They can test Death Ride 2000.  My own boys are loving it.”

She fluttered a perfectly manicured hand.  “Oh, they’re staying with my mother this summer.  I’m going through a divorce right now.  I feel the need to be alone.  I have to try to gather all my inner strength and focus on healing.  It’s been a terrible ordeal.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said instantly.  “I know how you feel.  I’m going through a divorce myself.”

She had very pretty blue eyes that widened and filled with tears.  “Isn’t it terrible?  The feeling of abandonment and isolation?  I’m completely at a loss.  How are you coping?”

“It’s getting easier” I sighed, and took a long drink. 

She got a little closer.  “So, tell me,” she murmured.  “What are you doing for sex?”

I must have looked a little taken aback, because she suddenly fluttered her hand again.  “I’m only asking because, well, your books, and everything.  You must be very enlightened about sex.  Open, you know.  Free.  I’m going crazy, myself.  Especially when I see happy couples together.  All I can think about is – ” she lowered her voice, –   “you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Doug said innocently.  “Tell me.”

She ignored him.  “I mean, how will I ever start even dating again?  It’s a cruel world out there.”

“I’m practice dating,” I said, taking another gulp of my drink.  Pineapple and cranberry.  Very refreshing. 

She looked interested.  “Really?  With who?”

Doug smiled.  “With me. If you like, I can book you for next Thursday.”

Advertisements

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. L.C. Evans
    Mar 20, 2011 @ 18:31:35

    Enjoyed the sample. I like your new cover, too.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: