Him: I got nothing today.
Me: You’re striking in solidarity with the actors and Hollywood writers, aren’t you?
Him: Yes. Consider me on vacation.
Me: Do let me know if you find anything interesting in the picket line.
Him: We’re discussing the patriarchal system that allows certain executives to make more than $50 million a year while too many actors make about $40 a day.
Me: Are you making that up?
Him: I am not. Just like I’m not making up that we are going to gate crash a certain executive’s party and have a threesome in his McLaren.
Me: Not sure how that’s changing the system.
Him: It’s with his twin, twenty-four year-old daughters that he wants to marry off to other studio executives. It’s their idea. They want revenge. I’m a man of service, what can I say?
Me: Is this a Hollywood studio mafia romance you’re starting?
Him: No, the mafia show up later. The head of the family–a woman–is in love with me. So she gets jealous and–
Me: My head hurts. Go back to the picket line.
Him: Too late. I’m already in the McLaren.
Me: Okay, maybe I’ll stick around. Solidarity and all that.
Conversations with Characters
Conversations With Characters #17. And a Pedal Tavern!
Prepare thyself to be surprised. Someone’s back. See Conversations With Characters below.
Also, someone new has joined the picture. Because why not throw more characters at me?
I blame Nashville. I just visited friends there and had too much fun.
Ever heard of a Pedal Tavern? Yeah, me either. It’s a bar on a bike. Sort of. And they are all over downtown Nashville every night of the week. Seriously. Every fifty feet. Filled with “woo-woo” people. At least that’s what my friend’s husband calls them. He’s not wrong.
Just yell out “woo-woo” and the women, in particular, respond accordingly. I believe it’s mandatory one of them must wear a bride-to-be sash, too.
When I and my friends, Lisa and Diane, turn 70 we’re going to rent a Pedal Tavern and become woo-woo girls. At least for one night. We also will wear bride-to-be sashes. To mess with the tourists.
Until then expect a Pedal Tavern in a book sometime.
Maybe the heroine will be a jilted bride who decided to wear her actual wedding dress. She gets woozy. Dress tangles in the (fake and only for show) pedals. She falls off and straight into the arms of a rock star turned country. They gaze into each other’s eyes, fall in love. And she already has the (ripped to shreds) dress so… His name is Kai. At least in Nashville. He has many names elsewhere. Because is he only a music star? His secret life threatens to rise. Just when he thought the best way to stay hidden was to step into the spotlight…
Stop me before I hurt myself. Or rather, someone else stopped me. Want to know who? Keep reading.
Me: I’m really loving this new music star, Pedal Tavern hero. So swoony. So mysterious.
Him: I don’t sing.
Me: What?
Him: You know that. I drink Scotch.
Me: Do I look like your bartender?
Him: Did you just roll your eyes at me?
Me: <<dramatically rolls eyes again>> Oops.
Him: <<plays with pinky ring on his finger.>> You sure you want to do that a third time? And did I say you could get out of that chair?
Me: Thought I was fetching you a Scotch. You’re not my Pedal Tavern hero, are you?
Him: <<jaw twitches>> Sit. Down. Look at me. Listen to my voice. You know who I am.
Me: <<gulping>> Alexander?
Him: Smart girl. Now forget the Scotch. Listen very carefully. I don’t repeat myself. Are you listening?
Me: Yes, Sir.
Him: Hmmm. Also, a very good girl. Now. This is what I want.
I might have fainted at that point.
Stay tuned for what’s happening with the Elite Doms in my next newsletter. I have a surprise for you!
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Conversations with Characters #16
Him: You’re going to drown.
Me: Excuse me?
Him: You’re on your fifth cup of tea.
Me: When in London, do as the Londoners.
Him: Don’t be a cliche. Now I’m a modern day pirate with a 22 foot schooner off the coast of Greece and fall in love with one of my marks. An older woman with the most amazing pair of legs.
Me: <<Big sigh because once they start talking they don’t shut up.>> You after her jewels?
Him: Her jade collection. Imperial from Burma. $200K an ounce.
Me: She just happen to have that in her purse?
Him: In her safe on her yacht. Only her boy toy is in the way. He kept changing the combination.
Me: Boy toy, huh?
Him: Okay, technically it’s her fake husband meant to get her ex-husband off her back, but whatever. She deserves better.
Me: And you’re better, Sir Pirate Jade? She sounds… popular.
Him: She found her fake husband with the CEO of a jade mine. One night I was a revenge f$ck except when I tried to blackmail her with it she said “go ahead” and so I did and now I look like the boy toy in the press and every time I run into her, she laughs and–
Me: Stalking her?
Him: I miss her. She’s the only woman who ever, ya know…
Me: Put you in your place? Made you look bad? Ended your career as a pirate because now everyone knows who you are?
Him: Made me fall in love, okay? Jesus… You’ve always wanted to go to Greece, so jet on down there. I’ll meet you. But only if you promise I get the girl in the end.
Me: And if I don’t?
Him: I’ll call up the Daily Mail and tell them you were in on the jade theft with me.
Me: Going to pull our your imaginary cell phone and speak with an imaginary voice, are you?
Him: Look. I’m really suffering here. I put the jade back. That’s got to be worth something.
Me: Poor baby. Maybe I’ll let you be part of her reverse harem. Or maybe a menage.
Him: Now we’re talking.
Me: I knew it. You guys always want a menage.
Him: What? She’s into it.
Her: Yes, I am. I haven’t decided who the third is. But, first, let’s chat about how I’m going to make my pirate playboy suffer…
Me: Oh, tell me we make him beg.
Her: We make him try to, how shall I say, out perform the others to prove himself to me.
Me: I think I love you. <<starts checking flights to Greece for research.>>
Conversations With Characters #15
Me: I think I’ll take a little break. Cook something. I’m starving.
Him: Excuse me. You’re not done here today.
Me: Tomorrow
Him: Wus.
Me: Sadist.
Him: Then make me a beef Wellington. I also will have a Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon to go with it.
Me: That’s almost $6500 a bottle. You’re a carpenter—
Him: With gourmet tastes.
Me: Clearly. You cannot go into debt for wine. And I’m in the mood for pasta.
Him: It takes nothing to boil water. It can wait. So, in this new book of yours, I’m pouring the Screaming Eagle and I ask if she screams, too.
Me: In ecstasy, right? Not for other reasons?
Him: What do you take me for? Hannibal Lecter? He prefers Chianti anyway.
Me: You know him? No, don’t answer that. You are a God fearing, animal rescuer who makes beautiful things with his hands.
Him: Especially makes women scream in ecstasy.
Me: Tell me more.
Him: Thought you were hungry?
Me: There are many types of hungry. << puts hands back on keyboard>> I’m listening.
Him: You are so easy.
Me: If you want that cabernet you better deliver, buster.
Him: Then, we shall begin. So, there’s only one bed…
Conversations With Characters #14
Me: I got nothing today. <<leans back in chair, stares at ceiling>>
Him: Au contraire mon ami.
Me: <<Chair thunks to upright>> Oh my God. You’re French.
Him: And?
Me: You’re too hot for me today. I’m tired. Besides RARE Paris is until next April. I’m going to Norfolk for SaSS first — hot navy guy inspiration. Then, London. You know how much I love a British accent. Then, it’s on to Denver. Hot skier inspiration. Then, Paris–
Him: Where I shall vanquish all others with my romantic side.
Me: Can we put a pin in it until next April?
Him: I have a Westie.
Me: You’re in. Start talking.
Sidebar: Yes, we’re thinking about getting another dog.
Him: I know. You keep scrolling those FB Westie groups instead of writing my epic story.
Me. Shhh, I was talking to my readers.
Him: But… <<lifts a bottle of wine in one hand and a Westie puppy in the other>> I also brought friends.
Me: <<Glances over at the six guys he brought with him>> You’re killing me.
All the Hims: So we have this idea.
Me: Of course you do. Amazing unison answer, by the way. You don’t have to bribe me with a puppy. <<snatches imaginary puppy from his imaginary arms anyway>>
Him 1: We are amazing.
Him 2: We each have a particular way to seduce a woman.
Him 3: We choose a woman, randomly at a festival.
Him 4: Then we engage in All The Wooing Things.
Him 5: We then let the woman choose which one worked.
Me: That sounds like a lot of work for a one in six chance.
Him 6: It’s a way for us to learn about women. Besides, she can choose all of us — if she wishes.
Me: Are you all French?
All the Hims: <<nod, slowly, in French>>
Me: What if she chooses the Westie?
Him: <<big sigh>> She often does.
In my world, the Westie always wins.