Myth of The Sphere Chapter Two

The house was dark when the driver dropped Reilly off. Even though their French Country mansion style home was lovely it was not their castle in Ireland. The flat his parents had set up on the bottom floor of the house was comfortable but he missed his water front flat in Dublin. He took a very cold shower hoping it would be enough to get rid of the hard on he had from his contact with Crystal. She wasn’t his type he liked strong confident women that only wanted him on the surface. He had given up on finding more a long time ago.

His cock still rigid with desire for her prevented him from sleep. Pleasuring himself did no good. He closed his eyes one more time and did his best to not think of her and sleep. The smell of warm cookies surrounded him and he opened his eyes. He was standing next to a granite counter top island in the middle of a state of the art kitchen. A woman dressed in tight blue jeans and a white sweater was bent taking a tray of warm cookies out of the double oven. When she stood up he saw it was Crystal carrying the tray of cookies to an eager crowd of kids sitting around a round table in the corner of the kitchen. Half the children had red hair like her and half the children had his dark brown hair. She carried them to a round table full of kids half with her red hair and half with his dark brown hair. After depositing the hot cookies on a plate and filling the kid’s glasses with milk she turned to him with a seductive look in her eye. He woke up just as she reached out to touch him.

The sound of the birthday song woke me up. My head was pounding and felt like it was made of lead, my eyes burned like I had washed them out with salty ocean water, and a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. The thought of sitting up made me queasy. I wondered how much I actually drank last night and how I got home.  I thought about the strange hallucinations I had last night. Who were the people I encountered and what did it all mean? Could a past life be trying to reach out to me? I’ve seen old movies where that happened under hypnosis. Maybe ghosts of the hotel were trying to reach me. The music was outside my door now and my parents slammed my door open and shouted, “Happy birthday!”  When my mom and I were alone I told her about the visions I had last night. “I wouldn’t be worried about that. It was probably too much champagne and excitement.” She kissed me on the cheek and left. I could tell by the way she looked away from me that she was lying. Is there a family history of people having hallucinations that I didn’t know about?

My phone rang before I could ponder that thought. My best friend Maggie was on the other end. “Look in your closet.” Maggie said while I had her on face time. She had the perfect view of my closet from where I had my I pad propped on my desk. There was no telling what crazy outfit she had sent me from the clothing store she worked at. To say we had different taste in clothing was an understatement. My job requires me to wear corporate attire. She has a more flashy approach to clothing. She lets the world see just how well god blessed her assets. I bet almost the whole state has seen or touched them. There was a large black box with a red ribbon around it standing in the closet. Inside is a royal blue dress that looks like a belly dancers costume. The top only went down passed my ribs but has beautiful red and silver embroidery with red silver and green beading on it. A mesh center connects it to the wide band of the skirt with more embroidery and beading. I looked at is skeptically. “Don’t worry it will look great. The dresses embellishments are so beautiful that no one will notice anything but how great you look in it.” Maggie said from over my shoulder.

“What do you think Mr. Donovan?” His new young blonde and attractive assistant asked. The dream he had that morning was really playing havoc on his mind. Crystal would have been on his mind regardless but now every time he closed his eyes all he saw was her. She is a virgin and he wasn’t going to be the one to deflower her. He was becoming obsessed with checking her Facebook page for updates but the only posts were people wishing her a happy birthday. What he really needed was to forget her by taking out another woman and fucking his libido into submission. “Are you alright Mr. Donovan?” His assistant asked again. He composed himself and finished the meeting he had called on a Saturday.

Maggie gave me the address and time we were to meet at a hot new night spot in Manhattan. She said, “Getting totally shit faced on your twenty-first birthday is a rite of passage.” I didn’t get a chance to tell her all the details about last night since she was calling me from work.

I sat in front of my computer to get some work done and couldn’t keep my eyes open, I set the alarm on my phone and went back to bed. Sleep claimed me before my head hit the pillow. My eyes were blinded by sunlight when I opened them to see where I was. I was in a forest again using a long log as my resting place. The wildflowers here were in bloom some I recognized like daisies and violets. Some looked like things I recognized but they were slightly different. I saw a sunflower like plant but the leaves were spiky and not flat like normal sunflowers. I had on a light blue Victorian style dress with long puffy sleeves. I heard feet scuffling and voices as I stood up.

“You are well aware my Da’s insisted I marry of my own status. There is nothing you can say to change his mind.” The same red headed woman I tripped over in my last dream said to a man that look exactly like Reilly Donovan. I watched as he held her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck in response and turned the kiss into a hug. I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks before I heard the small sobs coming from her. Out of the corner of my eye I watched another red headed woman walk toward them. I could see her lips moving but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  As I got closer I noticed small differences between the two women that looked so much like me. They definitely weren’t twins as I assumed. The second woman’s nose was bent to the right like it had been broken. It reminded me of the wedding picture of my great grandmother hanging in my grandmother’s kitchen. I was within feet of this group of people when I heard the buzz of my alarm clock. What an odd dream maybe I need to see a therapist.

Reilly looked through the photos of the contact in his phone to see who struck his fancy to shag. He pressed the call button on a pretty brunette socialite he met when they first moved here. He hadn’t called her because she seemed too eager. Normally he enjoyed the challenge of charming a lady out of her panties, if he got lucky she wouldn’t be wearing any.

For once Maggie was right this dress was awesome. “I know you believe it but I think it’s a load of crap!” My dad shouted as I opened the kitchen door to tell them I was headed out. “You’re leaving already? We haven’t seen you all day.” She said.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t feeling well. Maggie is having a party for me in the city. I’ll be with you guys and grandma all day tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be sick of me by tomorrow night,” I said as I gave them both a hug and headed out.  I’ve never felt that kind of tension between my parents before. Whatever is going on must be serious. There isn’t a time I can remember them fighting. My dad always says. “I’m a lover not a fighter.”

On the train ride into the city I looked at all the emails and messages on my phone. Almost all were birthday acknowledgements and hello pokes from Facebook friends. My clumsy fingers hit the wrong command and instead of updating my status the phone opened the ‘recently added friends’ tab. There at the top of the list was Reilly Patrick Donovan. How did he get there? I never friended him or accepted a request from him. That bastard must have molested my phone while I was drunk. Its one thing to check someone’s wallet for an address but to go through a person’s Facebook account so you can friend them and erase all signs of it is something totally different. I’m going to kick his ass when I see him again. Then it hit me I didn’t need to see him again, the deal was just about done and Bob could finish it.

As my rage subsided I decided to look through his profile and pictures.

Name: Reilly Patrick Donovan

School: Oxford University

Of course he went to Oxford. I went graduated from Dartmouth, it’s not Oxford but it isn’t a no name school.

DOB: May 1977

Relationship Status: Married

He’s married? I feel bad for his wife since he goes around kissing girls at balls.

Married to: Himself

How narcissistic. He has to be the most egocentric man I’ve ever met. I decided to look through his profile. His profile picture was a professional shot of himself in a suit and tie sitting in front of a large Donovan Glass sign. The photos in his albums tab were more relaxed. The first picture was him with his mom, dad and a young woman in front of a large castle. The only one dressed up was his dad. I finally reached real family photos like a bare chested Reilly behind the wheel of a boat, Reilly in jeans and a t-shirt holding a new born baby (this picture was tagged from Patricia Donovan’s profile) so I knew it wasn’t his baby. Not that I cared.  There were a few shots of Reilly standing in a very manly, professionally decorated, apartment living room.  One of my favorites was one of him in front of a mahogany four poster bed in his pajamas. A wave of jealousy flowed over me at the thought of who took that picture and what they did afterward.

There were childhood photos of him as well and in everyone he looked stiff and detached in what looked like a private school coat and tie. I noticed in all the family photos the only ones he smiled in were pictures of him and his mother. He could have ‘mommy issues’.

I felt beautiful as I stepped out of the train onto the platform. At the tail end of rush hour Grand Central Station was a sea of people. It surprised me when I heard a wolf-whistle and it was directed at me. My cheeks grew warm when I noticed many of the men smiling at me. For once Maggie was right, this dress made people notice me in a positive way. The mural on the ceiling always fascinates me. I was looking up daydreaming when I stumbled over a display for a news stand selling papers from all over the world. Once I was back on my feet again, I saw a picture of Reilly carrying me out of the Waldorf hotel on the cover of an international tabloid. The headline was less than flattering. Ladies Beware: Reilly Is Now Knocking Girls Out!

I bought a copy of the trash magazine to show to Maggie and went outside to hail a cab. The driver pulled up to an Arabic looking building called Ron De Jambre. “I knew that dress would look amazing come inside.” She said as she grabbed my hand. The inside of the club was a blending of cultures. A circular bar with high tech machines and, the largest selection of alcohol I’ve ever seen dominated the center of the room. The walls were lined with bench seating and tables, a large doorway behind the bar lead to a dance floor that was booming with activity. Maggie waved to me from a long bench seat with two tables in front surrounded by people, I didn’t know, and presents.  Victor, her manager from the store, and his model boyfriend Michael rushed toward me. “Maggie was right that dress was made for you.” Victor said as he hugged me hello. The rest of the party was all in the fashion industry like Maggie. We enjoyed our appetizer and the belly dancers strategically placed around the room, they all moved in unison to the same rhythmic music that wound its way through your soul. A bartender appeared with a champagne bucket and a bottle of Dom Perignon, “We didn’t order this.” I said. “This is compliments of the gentleman in the corner. He wished you a very happy birthday.” He said as popped the cork and poured glasses for us.

I looked in the direction the bartended had tilted his head and there he was, Reilly Donovan with a very beautiful woman at his table. He held up a champagne glass in my direction and winked at me. Oh that man is insufferable and everywhere. “Who’s that? He is delicious.” Maggie asked. I couldn’t think to answer, how did he know I’d be here? I handed her the tabloid I had tucked into my purse. “You need to tell me what is going on Cristi. Why is he carrying you?” I told Maggie about what happened after the kiss and all the hallucinations I had. “It sounds like someone from the past is trying to reach you.”

“You have been watching too much sci-fi. Things like that don’t happen in the real world.” I told her. I looked back in Reilly’s direction and he was gone. My feelings were conflicted I was glad he was gone but sad because just looking at him made my stomach twist. He probably took the slut he was with home.

Reilly picked Crystal out the minute she walked in the door. It was like he sensed her presence. She looked more beautiful in the blue dress then she did yesterday. He couldn’t control the response his body had to her. Thankfully Anna thought it was her so he let her take care of it for him. Anna left after the champagne ran out and he promised to call her. Not that he ever called girls back.

The Myth of The Sphere Chapter One

To all my adoring clients/fans here is the first chapter of my book. I'm going to post my chapters here so you can read them and tell me what you think.

To: CrystalChandler@ArtCard.com

From: BobJames@ArtCard.com

Subject: Donovan Glass Contracts

Crystal,

I need you to pick up the signed contracts from Reilly Donovan on Friday. There is a Donovan Glass launch gala at the Waldorf. A limo will pick you up at 6:30.

See you Monday.

Bob

The limousine pulled up in front of the limestone front of the Waldorf Astoria. A really hot guy in a tux opened my door for me. “Miss. Chandler I’m Patrick and I’ll be your escort to the gala this evening.” He spoke with the most wonderful Irish brogue. I noticed the crowd standing outside as I reached for his hand and wanted nothing more than to go home. His hand warmed mine as I took a deep breath and let him help me out of the car. He guided me through a lightning storm of camera flashes.  Patrick held my hand in the crook of his arm as he lead me down a white carpet with the Donovan Glass logo and name on it. He did his best to shield me from the paparazzi and television cameras inside the hotel entrance.  My mind wandered to a dark stone corridor as we followed the carpet.  As quickly as I blinked I was in the corridor I had thought of.  The corridor was dark unlike the soft yellow light of the Waldorf.  Small groups of people stood on either side of the corridor and curtsied or bowed as we passed. I looked over to my escort but Patrick had been replaced by a taller stockier man wearing a red velvet robe and jeweled crown on his soft red hair. I tripped as he looked down at me and I was back in the hotel tripping over my own feet with Patrick helping me regain my balance. The ballroom doors were in my sight and I prayed I would make it. I don’t know what strange hallucination that was but I felt light headed and had to fight to keep my eyes open. A regal gentleman wearing a red tuxedo jacket with a glass sword belted around his waist announced me. My legs were uneasy as I stepped past him. Patrick kissed my hand and left me at the top of a long elaborate staircase.  The Grand Ballroom more elegant than anything I’ve seen before. I could see all three levels from this vantage point. The bottom had rows of round tables, the balcony level where people were mingling, and the third level looked like boxed seats at an opera house.

Reilly Donovan stood in his private balcony box watching the guests arrive, making a mental note of whom would be the lucky lady he asked to warm his bed tonight. He noticed a shy duckling among this pond of swans. This duckling had hair the color of highly polished bronze and a body covered by an appropriate length and style cream gown that made him wish he could see more. His eyes weren’t the only part of his body that was interested in what she was hiding under her gown. He had an instantaneous physical reaction to her. In all thirty-four years of Reilly’s life he had never been aroused by a woman this unconsiusly beautiful. There wasn’t one woman he had fucked that made him feel this level of desire. His mind wandered to a childhood story he had heard about a young girl in Ireland that disappeared in the eighteen-ninties and had become a glass sphere, by her fiancé’s use of black magic, made by his great, great, great grandfather Luke. To the best of Reilly’s knowledge the only truth to that is Luke had sketched the sphere but never made it. It was like most Irish stories, a good tale.

 Scott Donovan stood behind his only son watching him. He had hoped moving to New York from Ireland would make Reilly see it was time to settle down but that hadn’t happened. Scott knew Crystal the minute he saw her. Scott knew the tale of the Donovan Sphere like the back of his hand but it wasn’t until this very moment he believed it. The legend said all Donovan man would fall to their knees for the red-headed descendant of the tale. If the electricity Scott felt between them got any stronger the room was going to catch fire. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder and said, “She is prettier than and Irish sunrise.”

“Do you know who she is?” He asked.

“Nope, but I’m sure you won’t waste any time finding out.”

I felt much better when I reached the bottom of the stairs and the dizziness I felt from my daydream had passed. A very elegant woman in a princess ball gown greeted everyone as they stepped into the crowd. “Good evening. I’m Eileen Donovan and you are?” She said in a soft Irish brogue.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Crystal Chandler from Art Card. Can you tell me where Mr. Donovan is? I’m here to pick up the contracts.” I could see confusion cross Eileen’s face for a moment then just as quickly she replaced her hostess face. “Let me show you around.” She took me by the arm and led me into the sea of people. She tapped the shoulder of a dark haired man standing in front of a group of men talking. “Excuse me.” He turned around and I couldn’t believe I was a foot away from Pierce Brosnan. “You look lovely as always Eileen. Where is that no good bastard of a husband?” He said with a rye smile. She reached up and kissed both his cheeks. “You’re just jelous. I would like you to meet Crystal Chandler. She is here with Art Card.” He turned his attention to me. “I’ve never met a woman so appropriately named. You shine like a fine gem.” He said as he kissed my right cheek then my left. “Bond. James Bond.” What a fool I am I can’t believe I said that out loud. “That’s me.” He said with a smile. I regrouped and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Brosnan.” Eileen was now talking to Colin Farrell. He also kissed both my cheeks but I had the better sense to just stick with hi. Next to him stood Daniel Craig, he did the same.

As a native New Yorker I am aware of the celebrities living in and around Manhattan. I just never thought that I would meet most of them the day before my twenty-first birthday. Eileen is amazing there has to be over a thousand people here and she knew them all. She introduced me to celebrity royalty like; Woody Allen, Lizza Minelli, Mathew Broderick, Hank Azaria (who did his Homer Simpson voice for me). On our way back upstairs Eileen introduced me to the whole cast of the Harry Potter movies and more famous cast mates of the Twilight movies. We ended up on the third floor box level of the ballroom. Eileen escorted me to the last box upstairs, it was quieter and more secluded then the others. Two men sat at a table. “Crystal Chandler, this is my husband Scott Donovan and my son Reilly Donovan. Crystal is here to pick up the Art Card contracts.” Scott looked at Reilly expectantly. “I messengered them to your office yesterday.” He said in an Irish accent that sent goose bumps down my spine like cold silk. He looked at me with his powerful green eyes. I felt like he could see into my soul. I knew I was staring but couldn’t make myself look away. He was right in front of me now. Had I walked to him or did he come to me? “I’m Reilly Donovan, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss. Chandler.” He said as he extended his hand for me to shake. I accepted his hand and I felt so much electricity I had to wonder if he had a stun gun in his hand. My eyes looked down at our joined hands then back to his eyes. I felt the warmth from his left hand curled behind my neck as I felt his lips touch mine. What was going on? His lips were warm his skin was soft and he tasted of liquor. Our hands were still grasped together as I wrapped my left arm around his big shoulders for support. His left arm wrapped around my waist. Our right hands came apart from my frantic need to be as close to him as possible. I clung to his neck as he picked me up and held me against the wall. Our lips never parted. Our tongues danced together. My body ached in a way I had never felt before. I was raised a devout Catholic and believed in waiting until I was married to have sex. I know that sounds old fashioned but until this moment I’ve never felt the passion I thought you needed to make love to someone.

Reilly had no control over himself. His body moved toward her like a magnet to metal. Her blue eyes reminded him of fine saphires and her innocent smile made his body harder than it has ever been. When their hands met he couldn’t help himself he had to taster her. She tasted of bubblegum and smelled of fresh baked cookies. He knew he had to let her go because if he didn’t he was going to push her to the floor and have her for himself.

I felt his fingertips just beneath my breast and I knew I had to stop him. I was here on business not for love or to lose my virginity. The passion and desire I felt for Reilly had me seriously thinking about giving it to him. I knew when I felt his hand on my breast that we needed to stop. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

Reilly knew cupping her breast was wrong but he had no control over himself. She had intoxicated him. He felt like he had been hit in the face with a bucket of cold water when she pushed him away. He felt her legs straighten beneath her and he rested his forehead on hers. She had her eyes closed and he could feel the deep rise and fall of her chest. “I’m very sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.” He managed to cough out.

I wanted to chase after him when he stepped away from me. How could he take away his warmth? My skin felt branded by his strong body.

 “I’m sorry your boss didn’t tell you I already sent him the contracts.” Reilly said grasping for professionalism. “That’s alright. This is a lovely event. I’m glad to be here. Crystal said as she stood at the balcony next to him looking down at the crowd.

“Have you worked at Art Card long? You can’t be much older than nineteen.” Reilly said from his seat.

I felt myself flush as I turned to face him. “I graduated college two years early and I’ve paid my dues.” I said with distain I hate being treated like a child just because I’m young. I regrouped and continued, “If you must know I’ll be twenty-one tomorrow and I’ve worked very hard to be where I am.”

Reilly knew the minute she said that that he needed to back off. He had no place corrupting a child thirteen years his junior. He needed to concentrate on finding a random starlet to join him tonight not a girl with stars in her eyes. Those were the girls you showed a good time but in the end always expected a big diamond ring. As far as he was concerned that was a permanent noose around your neck. His father had destroyed his mother’s life and he refused to do that to anyone. He was the Donovan heir and that meant you were expected to make sacrifices. He refused to make another person the sacrifice he had to make. Life was more fun when you didn’t have to answer to anyone but yourself. He stood up and said, “Let’s join the others downstairs.”

The private boxes were all empty as we walked back downstairs. His hand rested on my lower back as we walked. Reilly showed me to my table and he joined his parents at theirs. I had to stop myself from hyperventilating when I sat down next to the hottest non-sparkling vampire on TV. My celebrity table mates talked about their projects and funny things that happened on set. I couldn’t keep my mind from reliving my kiss with Reilly. I still couldn’t figure out how we ended up that close to each other. My cheeks heated again as I thought of the warmth I felt flow through my body as he kissed me. That wasn’t my first kiss but with the little experience I’ve had it was the best one so far. Dinner was delicious but with my mind still on that kiss I’ll never remember the fancy French name it had. I never saw a server but my champagne flute was always full.

I saw Reilly get up from his table and walk to the stage. I admired the way his tuxedo moved like water over his overly athletic body. I looked down at my cream colored couture dress and thought about all the curves I had that it was supposed to hide. “Excuse me I would like to thank you all for coming tonight. When my father suggested we open a DG in New York I was a bit hesitant. Now I can see what a good decision it was. We at Donovan want to thank you for welcoming us to the business community and to express our gratitude we have a little something for you. We will be turning out two new exclusives at our new plant in White Plains. Would you please stand if you had a black napkin tonight,” Half the room stood up. “You will receive our new Diamond Jewelry box.” The wait staff brought out silver trays with black gift bags on them. “If you had silver napkins please stand. You will receive our new Crystal Teardrop trinket box.” The wait staff appeared again with silver gift bags. “Just to let you know what is on the horizon coming in June you will now be able to get a Donovan Glass Visa card. The crowd clapped and cheered for getting the gifts and the new card.” Reilly didn’t know what came over him but he found himself saying, “One more order of business. There is a very special lady with us. Miss. Crystal Chandler and today is her twenty-first birthday. Please join me in wishing her a happy birthday.”

At his insistence I stood up and a thousand people sang to me. Before I could sit back down the hot vampire next to me asked me to dance. You don’t say no when a Nordic god asks you to dance. My dance partner was so graceful he even made me feel graceful. I danced with all three James Bond actors, Harry Potter himself and a hip hop mogul. I danced with so many stars I’ve seen in movies I felt like a star. I was glad to sit for a few minutes alone.  My feet hurt so badly if I didn’t let them rest they would go home by themselves. I rested my head in my hands for a brief moment. When I lifted my head to look around I was in a ball room, just not the one I was supposed to be in. The walls were a dark burgundy color with heavy dark wood crown molding at the ceiling. The ladies and gentleman were dressed in poofey sleeved gowns and the men were in waistcoats and cravats. I stood in the corner of the room and watched the guest’s dance, when I noticed a young lady with the same shade of hair as mine. She moved out of my sight. I accidentally bumped into an older gentleman who looked appalled when I said excuse me to him. There was a tapping at my shoulder and when I turned around to see who it was I was back in the Grand Ballroom again.

“May I have the honor of this dance Miss. Chandler?” Reilly asked. My legs were so wobbly when I took his hand I prayed he wouldn’t notice. He held me close as we danced to a romantic Eric Clapton song. He was as tall as the sexy vampire I danced with earlier. Reilly smelled like Irish Spring soap. We moved together like we have been dancing together for years. My legs felt steadier then they had before but my head was killing me and I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t feel comfortable resting my head on Reilly’s shoulder but I had to close my eyes and that was the best place to do it.  Once they were closed I felt my mind slip away like when you are falling asleep.

When I opened my eyes I was on a dirt road with farm land on either side of me. I have no clue where I am, but it feels familiar to me, like a dream you’ve had over and over. I walked down the road to see if I could find anything I remembered. Finally I saw smoke billowing from a chimney. If there was smoke hopefully there would be someone who could tell me what is going on. The farmland changed to think forest lined by a stone wall. I saw a man riding through the woods on a horse and I was compelled to walk in that direction. I looked down at my dress when it got caught in the brush and branches around me. I was no longer wearing my ball gown, the dress I had on looked like something they would have worn in a Jane Austen novel, with a full skirt and cinched in waist. For the first time I can remember I felt regal. As I walked along the wall I could hear the subtle sound of a woman crying. The farmhouse I was hoping to find was insight and the crying was much louder. I walked through a break in the stone wall and fell face down on the ground.

Reilly enjoyed the feeling of Crystal’s head on his shoulder, but she wasn’t for him. They moved together for just a few moments then she was limp in his arms. He looked down at her face, she looked angelic with her eyes closed. Was she asleep? He shook her in his arms trying to wake her up, but she was out. He picked her up and carried her to a chase lounge in the corner of the room. Eileen made her way through the crowd to see what was going on. “Is she ok Reilly?” Reilly looked at his mom, “I’m not sure I think she fell asleep.” Eileen tried shaking Crystal’s shoulder to wake her up, but she didn’t flinch. “Why don’t you take her home? I’ll get her belongings and meet you in the lobby.”

Reilly regretted walking into the lobby carrying her when he was blinded by the flashes of a few photographers cameras. He deposited her in the limo waiting outside. He looked down at her small clutch purse when he heard piano key sounds coming from it. It was too tempting he had to see what her phone said. She had several text messages from her mother and one from a girl names Maggie. Did u knock him back and climb on top of him? ;-) He scrolled up to see what ‘Maggie’ was talking about. Crystal had told her about their kiss and how she considered giving him her virginity. That was a  sign he needed to stay away from her, but a sliver of his mind thought about what it would be like to be her first. No, he couldn’t think about such things, so he distracted himself by snooping through her phone. Her pictures were of outings with friends and family, picnics, night clubs, and various candid photos of people at a university. Her Facebook profile was more of the same. He couldn’t stop himself from sending her a friend request from his personal profile and accepting on her phone.

The driver pulled into the driveway of a comfortable looking raised ranch style house with a splendid garden in front. Reilly stood at the front door holding Crystal engulfed by her cookie scent. Her bedroom was a perfect mix of her youth and status. Her bed was an unmade kaleidoscope of neon colors but her desk area was pristine and had state of the art equipment. He respected that because his office was the same.  He removed her heels and unzipped her dress. Her dress slid off her shoulders and revealed undergarments he would not have imagined a young woman like her to wear. She had on a plain white bra and a body suit that covered her abdomen and thighs. His cock grew stiff at the thought of taking off the body suit and feeling her baby soft skin.

Crystal’s dad came in just as he pulled the blanket up to cover her. “Thank you for bringing her home. I hope you get home safely.” He said as he stood in her doorway motioning for him to leave. Reilly met her dad’s territorial gaze that said, “She is my daughter and you aren’t welcome to her.”

I tripped over my skirt three times before I managed to stand up. It felt like a large branch or log, when I turned around to see what it was I looked at a face that was like looking in a mirror. Her cheeks were tear stained, this must be where the crying had come from, but other than that we are the same. Blue eyes, high cheek bones (my favorite part of my face), and the same red hair as myself and my grandmother. I tried to talk to her but nothing came out, I could see her lips move but heard nothing. The sinking feeling I had while Reilly held me was back and I couldn’t do anything to stop myself from falling into it. 

Inspiration

I went to the book store today to write and had an amazing result. I wrote over one thousand words of a novella I had started over three years ago. I also researched a place I am going to submit to when it is done.
It hit me today, if a coffee shop was good enough for JK Rowling then a book store with a coffee shop is good enough for me. It always showed me the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. Someday soon my name will be part of the displayed books in that store.

I did realize what my problem in the past has been. I write and then get so excited to be done I don't take as much time as I should to edit my writing when I send it off for consideration and get rejected. However I was reading in the writers guide to publishers how to find the secret code and I realize I've reached some of those steps in the past.

After writing my first novel I sent a query letter to an agent and she requested a partial submission, most people don't even make it that far. I need to keep plugging and working and never stop. My sister told me that our family has nominated me to write a book about the family. I don't think a family erotic novel is what they are thinking of. But I will keep it in my mind for a later date.

A fresh start

I'm still reviewing old material I have written and after starting and stopping two other projects I have come to the conclusion that I need to write an erotic novella first. I had started one called HR Nightmare about erotic happenings in a spa. This will take less time then a full novel and could be published faster (hopefully).

I have just returned from a five day vacation in NY and feel refreshed in all the senses of the word. Of course part of me feels like a failure. My uncles are very successful, one an executive, a chef, a painter (don't knock it. I hate doing it.), my aunt is a professor and we won't even talk about my cousins. They are starting there lives and making a splash of it. I however ended up a massage therapist and I know I am talented but I'm still not the author I thought I would be at this age. Off to write.

Reviewing old material

I'm reduced to writing new ideas and some old in my blog now because my new laptop is in need of programming. I was rereading my very first novel and have decided to take the barebones it has and see what I can make out of it.

Before It was a cold winters day in the meadow when I first glimpsed Parriss. The invading chill warned of an an unusually cold season, the the children playing in the snow seemed oblivious to the snow. The smell of fresh pine and ice filled each breath. The trees were barren. The ground was stripped of it's grassy carpet and replaced by a blanket of crunchy white snow. Thick clouds muted the diamond gleam of icecicles on tree branches. The landscape offered no distraction from the beauty of this angel gliding along the snow. I stood in awe. My best friend startled me when he asked, "Are you alright? You look like a deer in healights." "Look at that amazing woman near the ball field. Isn't she exquisite?" My angel stood one hundred feet from us. "That's not a woman it's my step-sister Parriss. The one that I've been complaining about for the past few days." He replied.


After:
It was a cool spring day when I returned to the meadow of my childhood and glimpsed the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I stood just out of sight in the forest that blocks the houses in the neighborhood from the imagination of the children playing. I see this angel swinging gingerly in the distant playground area. Her blonde hair is caught by the wind making it look like an angels wings. She is dressed to regally to be a neighborhood child. She couldn't be much older then seventeen or eighteen. Her eyes find mine as her swinging comes to a stop. She adjusts the lapel of her white fur coat. She smile at me as she is walking toward me. She has eyes so blue they look like they are glowing, and her smile is blindingly white. She is directly in front of me now. My mouth has gone dry and I can't say anything. "Do I know you?" She asks in a regal British accent. I feel the fog in my mind lift slightly, "Um, I don't think so. I'm John Ford." I say as I extend my hand toward her. She grasps my hand with two fingers and I lift it to my lips and this brief contact makes me feel as though I've been branded with a hot poker.

That is all I have for now. I think it is more interesting then what I wrote when I was 21. Maybe I have learned somethings since then.

Purpose

One of my favorite movies is Finding Forester, and Sean Connery's character says, "The first time you write for yourself." I don't think this is for myself but her goes. Other advise about writing I have gotten is that you need to just write, about anything to get the words flowing.

The Sex Bandit, my third novel once I unlock it from my head. Here is how I think it should start.

To: Missy
From: Tina
Subject: Sex toy party
I am picking you up tonight and we are going to the Getting Intimate with Intimates party at eight o'clock. No you can't get out of it you need to liven up your life.

This is not the first email I expected to get on a Monday morning after a long weekend of working overtime. I'm a rather ordinary type girl, brown hair, green eyes and an average body shape. My best friend Tina has been trying to get me to break away from my stuffy legal assistant look I've sported for the past five years. I don't know why, nothing ever helps. Tina is a hair dresser at a swanky spa in Memphis, TN and is convinced that the right cut and color can change anyone, but I assure you not me.

Who am I to go to a sex toy party? I admit to using them because other then one bad attempt in college that is the only personal life I have had since. Men just aren't into me. I read that book and new they never would be. "Excuse me miss, where is Mr. Davis's office?" I looked up from my computer into the bluest eyes I've ever seen attached to the male body of an Adonis and a ten gallon cowboy hat. I work at an entertainment lawyers office. "Yes sir, let me show you." I walked him halfway down the hall self conscious of the manly way I walk the whole time. A buff guy like this would never be interested in little old me. But looking at the white t-shirt he wore was a great pleasure. He had muscles in places I wasn't sure there should be muscles and an impressive budge that his painted on blue jeans left nothing to the imagination. I knocked on the door and motioned for this gentleman to go in before I did. He turned to me, smiled and said in a think Texan accent, "Much obliged to you mam." Oh how they make the men in the South.

At five I grabbed my purse and headed for the elevator. My heart sank when I saw whom I was going to have to ride down with. Larry is a senior partner at the firm and brings in more celebrity clientele then all the other lawyers, he is a sleezy looking pimp type with greased back hair, thick chest hair with a gold chain in it, a Hawaiian shirt and skin tight black jeans. All of the women in the office try to avoid him.

To be continued later.

A new begininng

There are things in life that we want, but always seem out of reach. Is it because our arms aren't long enough or because we aren't strong enough. My greatest dream in life is to be a published author. I started writing when I was ten and can't seem to stop. I wrote the short story that would become my first novel in 6th grade. By the age of 21 and 85 thousand words later it was finished. I looked in the second hand book I bought at a library store when I started writing it, and mailed a bad query letter and worse synopsis to publishing houses all over NY. I got the standard preprinted rejection letters from them all. But one day much much later in time I got a letter from an editor that looked hand typed and signed and you could see in it that she liked what she had read but couldn't get the green light for it. Then I tried sending it to agents, they have pull with the editors, and received one request for a partial submission. I figured that is great right?
So I started over and moved on. My second novel came faster and easier but needed more research because it is a time travel novel about solving the mystery connected to two very different families in 1890's Ireland. I put it down for a few years and picked it back up after talking to a friend about writing. At this point my life had taken a 180 degree turn. I went from living in NY to living in MS and being a massage therapist. That is where I picked up my second novel for a second time. I finished the 75 thousand words in two years. This time I was going to do it right. I sent this novel to agents and a select few publishing houses like Slihouette because they publish from outside more than the others do. Again I was in for a world of NO! So I thought about starting my third novel but could never find the right music to write to. So it is in a dusty filing cabinet in my mind. Someday I will pull it out and write it. I have had people tell me I am a great story teller but I need a good copy editor. And that is where my work stands.