Secrets and Lies by Natashiah Jansen & Ethan McKenzie @myreaderspress

CHAPTER 5

The next morning, Sharona woke up with a spring in her step and a slight headache. Felicia had stayed the night, because she had been too lazy to move from the couch after she sat down.

"Good morning, my friend," Sharona said.

"Morning… You sure are in a good mood; must be the good old doc's magic."

"You know what they say about those Latino men."

"Spare me, please. So… Did he give you his number, email… anything?" asked Felicia.

"No."

"No? Did you give him yours?"

"No," said Sharona.

"What?" Felicia was shocked because she had expected something after watching the two of them dancing the night away.

"We met, danced, laughed, and that was enough for me. What more would I want?"

"Mmmm… okay... So I take it you're not ready," said Felicia.

"I'm not ready for anything," Sharona said.

Shortly afterwards, J.J. woke up. He was in a playful mood and was very happy to see his mom. Breakfast was another story. He didn't seem to be in the mood for porridge, and ended up tipping the bowl on his head. Usually, Sharona would get upset, but this morning it was different. She laughed, and even J.J. was surprised. Felicia was glad to see her friend starting to enjoy life again.

"Well, it's time for me to leave," said Felicia. "What are you going to do the rest of the day?"

"I think I will surprise Edward with a picnic in the park. I'm sure he would love to spend some time with J.J. Why don't you join us?"

"I'll pass... I'd rather catch up on some sleep. Tomorrow will be a hectic day for me."

"Oh, I see. But what could possibly be so hectic? You're living on your trust fund, Paris Hilton."

"Shush… I don't want everyone to know I come from money. As for the hectic day, I have a full package booked at the spa. Will take about the entire day before I get out of there."

Felicia was an only child, and after her parents, who were real estate brokers, had died when she was 15, her inheritance was placed in a trust fund. After completing college, she jumped from one temporary job to another until she decided to live off her trust fund on a permanent basis. She didn't need to worry about earning a living. She had enough money to last her several lifetimes. Although she was filthy rich, she tried to live an ordinary life just like Sharona, but now and then she would splurge for fun.

"Yes, and that is very hard work. Tell Bruno I send my regards," Sharona said.

"Yes… Bruno… I wish I could have him on standby at home," she said, sighing.

"Why would you need a masseur on standby?"

"You never know when I might have a neck spasm or stiff calf that needs to be massaged," said Felicia.

They both sniggered as Felicia rubbed her calf playfully. She grabbed her purse and tied her hair back with a scrunchie, grabbed her pumps and walked barefoot to her car. Sharona and J.J. waved goodbye as she pulled out of the driveway.

"I hope one day you will have a friend like your Auntie Felicia; she really is a gem," Sharona said to J.J., who was still waving goodbye long after Felicia was out of sight.

She quickly dressed J.J. and herself and they were off to Edward's house. Before they got there, they stopped at the deli to pick up the picnic basket that she had ordered the day before. When they arrived at Edward's home, he was busy watering potted plants on his porch. A wide smile spread across his face when J.J. came running to his open arms.

"This is a nice surprise. I was thinking of visiting you this afternoon," he said, ruffling J.J.'s hair.

"Well, I thought I'd surprise you with a picnic," she said, smiling.

"Now that sounds like a plan. Come inside while I quickly throw on something."

While waiting for Edward, Sharona sat on the couch in the living room. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Jason's graduation picture on the shelf above the fireplace. She got up from the chair and stood in front of the fireplace and looked at Jason's smiling face. She smiled, and somehow it didn't hurt so much anymore to think of Jason.

"It's getting a little better every day," she heard Edward say as he walked towards her.

"Yes, it is," said Sharona.

J.J. looked at the two of them and started to giggle, as if someone had done something extremely funny. They couldn't help but join in. Edward carried J.J. to the car while Sharona locked the front door, and they left to go to the park for their picnic.

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Genre – Medical Suspense Thriller

Rating – PG

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Duty: a novel of Rhynan by Rachel Rossano @RachelRossano

Excerpt -
Morning came too soon. I woke to Tomas’ absence. When I ventured a hand out from beneath the covers to look for him, the bedding was cool to the touch. The soft shuffles of someone moving about in the predawn darkness brought my attention to the only light source in the room. The recently revived fire outlined Tomas easing his under-tunic over his head. Chainmail lay in a heap at his feet. His breastplate and other armor leaned up against the wall.
Memories of last night urged me from the warm cocoon of covers. Frigid air greeted me as I climbed out of bed to join him. My bare feet against the icy wooden boards brought my breath hissing in through my teeth.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting dressed.” I pulled the top blanket off the bed with me to wrap around my chemise as I searched for my clothing.
He crossed to catch my arm. “I don’t leave for hours.”
“Time I don’t want to waste.” I looked up into his face. The now familiar planes of his cheeks, the firm line of his mouth, the inky depths of his eyes, even the riot of his dark curls called to my fingers. I wanted to spend more time exploring them. They were mine to memorize; just as the rest of him was mine to explore. If only he didn’t have to leave. “I know you will come back, but I don’t want to lose a moment…” in case you don’t return. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t speak the words. They caught on the lump of fear at the back of my throat. Kurios, please be merciful. Bring him back to me.
“I am only going to train. I will come back for you so we can break our fast together.”
“Let me come.”
The surprise in his eyes made me laugh.
“I would love to watch you spar. I might learn something.”
He smiled and released my arm to brush the side of my face. His fingers radiated tempting warmth against my cold skin. “I forgot how many noses you have broken. Dress warmly, the water in the wash basin iced over last night.”
I nodded and looked around for my gear. After finding it beneath a chair in the corner, I chose my practical brown woolen leggings, a rust red tunic that fell below the knee, and a forest green surcoat slit at the sides for ease of movement. The red accented my hair, or at least that was what Loren claimed when she dyed it last spring. Once I belted my weapons about my waist, I set to combing my hair. I separated the strands for a braid.
“Leave it.”
“What?” I turned to find him watching me intensely. Now dressed in padded jerkin and most of his armor, he lacked only his mail, breastplate, and helmet to be completely ready for battle. He gestured to where my fingers were entangled.
“Leave it loose for now. I like it wild and down around your shoulders.” His gaze skimmed me from head to foot. A half smile pulled at his mouth as his focus settled on my face. “In fact, I think I like you just as much in leggings as I do in a skirt.”
Dropping the mail in his hands to the floor with a thump, he crossed the space between us in two strides. Catching my face between his hands, he pressed his mouth to mine. Visions of the night before flooded my head as my senses honed in on the sweet pleasure of his kiss and the delightful possession of his fingers in my hair. My arms encircled his neck, pulling the rest of me up to meet him. For the first time in my life I was thankful for my height.

After what seemed like forever and only a few seconds, he withdrew with a ragged groan. “This is madness. I don’t want to leave you.” He cradled my face with his right hand, caressing my bottom lip with his thumb. The desire in his eyes almost prompted me to plead for him to heed the impulse. Instead, I closed my eyes.

 

Duty to King

Tomas Dyrease, the newly made Earl of Irvaine and the village of Wisenvale, owes his good fortune to his king and the recent civil war. When his benefactor demands Tomas marry the cousin of a noble, he obeys. However, no one warned him that she wasn’t a typical noblewoman.

Duty to Others

Brielle Solarius struggles to keep her village from starvation under the new Lord Wisten, her cousin. The men rode off to war and never returned. The remaining women and children face a dire winter if they do not find a solution soon. When she learns her cousin sold her into marriage to save his life, she isn’t surprised. However, she is taken aback by Lord Irvaine’s unpolished ways. Was this man a noble or a foot soldier?

Duty to Each Other

Bound by the words of their vows, they face a rough future. They must forge a marriage while battling betrayal, accusations of treason, and villains from the past. Survival depends on their precarious trust in each other. Failure could mean death.

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Genre – Fantasy, Romance

Rating – G

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Excerpt: Redwood Violet by Robin Mahle

* * *

Katie looked up the doctor’s contact information displayed on the company directory when she arrived at work and phoned her right away.

“There’s one more thing, Dr. Reyes,” Katie said, sitting at her desk. “What are your thoughts on hypnotherapy?”

“I’ve used some forms of hypnotherapy for assistance in addiction treatments. Generally, stressors in a person’s life can cause a whole host of problems. I believe that is what we may be dealing with here and hypnotherapy may be of some use. But first things first; we need to get you in here so that we are able to talk about your situation in an objective manner; so how about next Thursday at 4:30?”

Katie perused her calendar. “Yes, that would be fine. Thank you, Dr. Reyes, I’ll see you then.” Just as she hung up the phone, she noticed Jennifer standing near. She was younger than Katie by a few years; slightly naïve, but kind and hardworking. Katie acted as her mentor on occasion. They often worked together on fundraising events when she was between cases.

“You’re working with Dr. Reyes again? I didn’t know they assigned you another case,” Jennifer said.

“Oh, that. No, it’s not a case.” Katie hesitated. “I was just asking her about something I had researched online.”

“Oh, I thought you were meeting with her.”

Katie felt she had painted herself into a corner. She knew Jennifer wasn’t the gossiping type, but discussing this with her wasn’t an option. “I am; next week. I thought that since we deal with so many cases of abuse, I wondered how certain therapy treatments were viewed, so I’m going to her office to learn more about them.”

Jennifer’s expression seemed to suggest she bought Katie’s explanation and she didn’t inquire further.

“Great. You wanna grab some lunch? It’s a beautiful day.”

“Sure, let’s go.”

They walked out of the office and the sun was shining. Although the temperatures remained relatively constant, Katie preferred the summer months because they produced warmer sea breezes, which somehow seemed to counteract the hazy, overcast skies. The weather here was always pretty great, but March was a particularly pleasant month, once the skies cleared.

“So, isn’t Spencer supposed to get his results soon?” Jennifer asked.

“Yep, they’re due to be out next Monday. He’s been so busy working research for the firm, I think he’s almost forgotten about it. I mean, it’s been months since he’s taken the exam.”

“I guess he’ll probably work long hours too, once he’s hired on as a practicing lawyer, right?”

“I suppose he will be. I’m so proud of him though. And besides, I knew what I was signing up for with him. I know what it takes to be a successful attorney. He’ll make a great lawyer. I’m hoping that I can talk Richard into using his firm once in a while, once they offer him a job, of course.”

“Is there any reason to think they wouldn’t? He’s been interning there for what, like two years?”

“Yeah, and I think I can convince him that they’d take on some pro-bono cases once in awhile.”

“Would they?” Jennifer asked

“If Spencer has anything to do with it, then, yeah. We are very much alike in some ways. He’ll want to do some good and help when he can, same as me.” Katie stopped at the Greek restaurant down the street from the office. “Feel like Greek today?” she asked Jennifer.

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

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Genre – Mystery  / Thriller / Suspense

Rating – PG

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The Blackout by Stephanie Erickson

Really, Gary didn’t mind Clint’s quiet side.  It was a hell of a lot better than some of the other yokels who talked non-stop while he was running checklists and trying to concentrate on charts.  Given the choice, Gary would pick Clint any day.  He was a hard worker and kept to himself.  Really, Gary could do worse.

They stopped to get coffee and donuts for the passengers on the way, and then headed to the airplane to get set up. 

The Hawker was a small business jet that seated nine people.  Gary wasn’t expecting that many people for this trip, but they could take them if they had to.  Usually, they only had a handful of some of the wealthiest people in the country occupying the seats. 

After cleaning up, running checks, and restocking the bird, they were ready for the passengers to arrive so they could get going. 

Gary figured it was a good time to say good morning to Molly, so he sent her a text. 

Morning beautiful!  Can’t wait to see ya in four days!  Have a wonderful day!

She responded right away.   Morning handsome!  Be safe today and can’t wait to see you too!

It was quickly followed by a picture of Dug with bedhead, and the caption: Dug says good morning. Haha!

Gary smiled.  Haha, morning Dug!  Gary typed.  It was a classic picture, with Dug bleary-eyed, his hair going in every direction imaginable. 

Clint walked up and nodded as he made eye contact.  “Any word from the passengers?”  Gary asked, locking his phone and jamming it back into his pocket.

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess we wait.” 

Clint harrumphed at that.  Flying wasn’t really the biggest part of the job, even though Gary thought it was the best part.  The majority of the workday was spent waiting, a smaller percentage collecting whatever was requested, and an even smaller part actually flying.   

So, they waited.

Darkness

4.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” – Edgar Allen Poe

Darkness is a funny thing.  The mere absence of light brings uncertainty and fear – the breeding ground for chaos.  It is so absolute.  And yet, so easily defeated by a single flame, if only someone thinks to light a candle.

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Genre – Adult Fiction / Contemporary

Rating – PG13 (some strong language)

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Gabriela and The Widow by Jack Remick

“Done,” he said.

Gabriela’s belly tightened, the sudden grip of a beast clutching at her. She imagined going with the man in the white hat—the man with the scar and hands like spider legs—and she wanted to run fast and far. She crouched beside the fountain and her Patrona walked away, her short legs flailing like the limbs of a centipede. Behind her the Scar-Faced Man said,

“Before you depart today, deliver your virgin to my truck.”

“And the money?” La Patrona said.

La Patrona melted into the crush of men in the market selling chilis and fence posts, selling stalks of bananas and bundles of spices and bags of cacao. Gabriela heard La Patrona calling for her, her voice as piercing as the sting of a wasp. Gabriela! Gabriela! Each shout a knife tearing at Gabriela until she felt weak and helpless and fearful that she was going to bleed to death in the water of the fountain. In her blue pinafore, head spinning, she felt the tongue of despair ball up in her because she had heard the girls in Paso talk about the disappeared ones who had fallen into the hands of other men with scars, girls who never came back, girls who went with the Headmen into the jungle never to return, girls who did come back but with scars on their backs, girls who never wrote. She heard the words fifteen thousand pound through her brain over and over. And then, a hand on her shoulder caused her to gasp.

She turned. The young man from the toad-seller’s stall stood over her.

He was smiling. He said,

“Why are you afraid of her?”

Gabriela, recoiling from the weight of his hand on her shoulder, wanted to run. He released her and stood facing her, waiting, and then he said,

“The woman, there, the woman talking to the coquero?”

“My patrona,” she said. “She has sold me.”

“Then come with me. To Oaxaca,” he said.

He told her that he visited Jamiltepec now and then to buy native handicrafts for his patron, who ran a tourist shop in that city. He said that he came also to buy the skins of the huge toads that his patron turned into purses with leather straps. These he sold to women with bare legs who traveled down from El Norte looking for exotic bargains and strange objects to add to their collections.

“You buy toads?” Gabriela said.

“The hides, yes. How tall are you?”

“What?”

“A meter eighty? Ninety? You’re the tallest woman I’ve ever seen. Come with me. The bus leaves in ten minutes.”

“I can’t.”

“You want to be sold?”

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Genre – Women’s Fiction

Rating – PG

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Time Killer by Todd M. Thiede

“I hate hospitals,” Jesse whispers as they ride the elevator up to Stephen’s room. “They remind me of the perils of our job. I remember visiting my dad once after he was attacked with a knife. We spent a lot of time visiting my grandma, too, before she passed away. Not good memories here.”

Stephen Bjornson slowly opens his eyes. The room is very bright, not just from the lights, but because everything is so white. His head is spinning and he can’t seem to focus well on any particular object. He remembers sirens and flashing lights and being carried from his house. Then, the terror returns. He stifles a mental scream. Still it creeps up on him as he recalls. He closes his eyes and starts to cry as he realizes that he may be in heaven. Everything is so bright, clean looking, and quiet.

Then, the sound of beeps from machines and voices from the next room permeate his consciousness and confirm that he is still earth-bound. As he tries to raise his arms to wipe away tears, he feels the tape pull on his arm of an I.V. He can vaguely make out thick bandages and senses the wetness of blood seeping through on his right hand. He feels bandages on his lips. He closes his eyes as the room starts to spin, but then he pictures the masked man kneeling over his beautiful wife and the pen in his hand. He bolts straight up, screaming her name. The medical staff burst into the room to stabilize him. It takes two big orderlies to hold him down and strap him down.

The detectives walk into Mr. Bjornson’s room just as he is calming down. In a very direct voice, Detective Larkin says, “Mr. Bjornson, I’m Detective Larkin and this is Detective Fairlane. I know this is going to be very difficult, but we need to ask you some questions so we can find this guy. He needs to be stopped before he can do this to another family.”

Bjornson interrupts the detective before he can go any further. “Where are my kids? Are they okay?” he asks in a slightly slurred voice. He appears panicked and he can’t form the words well. Max realizes a small window of opportunity to question him.

As gently as he can he explains the fate of the Bjornson children and, as expected, he breaks down. Stephen is distraught, shuffling in his bed. His head is tossing back and forth as he fights his restraints. The detective asks him another question, hoping he will answer. “Mr. Bjornson, I know you’re in pain. We want to help you and are truly sorry for your loss. We also need to catch this guy before he kills again. Please help us!” Max says as he reaches down and touches Stephen’s arm.

He is bitter. “What do I care? He took everything from me. I have nothing to live for!” Bjornson wails.

“If you truly feel that way, Mr. Bjornson, then you’re wasting my time,” retorts Detective Larkin. Slowly Bjornson lifts his head up, his whole body goes rigid, and he blanches visibly. He gasps for air as if he is having a hard time breathing.

“I’ve heard that before,” Stephen says his eyes wild. “The man in the suit said it to me many times. Not to mention that he kept mumbling those exact words over and over to himself. ‘Quit wasting my time; you’re wasting my time; time is money,’ over and over again. I’ll hear those words in my head the rest of my life!” Bjornson then drops his head, looking down at his bandaged hand. “He kept telling me that I wasted his time a month ago and it cost him $633. He actually had me pay him $633, but that is not the weirdest thing. He collected $650 between my wallet and my wife’s purse, but he left $17 as change on my dresser. If he was robbing me, why wouldn’t he take all of our money? Why didn’t he take any of our stuff? He even left my wife’s jewelry.”

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Genre – Mystery / Thriller

Rating – PG

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Website http://www.toddthiede.com/

Her Books Presents: Book Club Picks

If looks could kill, her daughter would be a goddess whose stare withered Megan into dust in the hallway. All from the glance of a ten year old.

“Why, Mom? Why won’t you let us walk?” Alexis half-turned on the stairs, hands on her hips as she challenged a rule they had created two years ago.

Megan closed her eyes and pinched the top of her nose. Drops of water from the end of her high ponytail dripped down the back of her neck. She’d rushed through her shower.

“Alexis, you know why,” she said. Her head throbbed. Great. It was only eight in the morning and she already had a headache. Megan headed to the kitchen for aspirin and water.

“But you let us walk home . . .” Alexis followed her.

“Yes, with an adult. Not alone. Sorry, but you are not walking to school by yourself. Honestly, Alex. Why do you have to push this? And today of all days.” With last night’s attempted abduction plastered all over the news there was no way another one of her daughters would be kidnapped. Not this time.

The afternoon Safe Walks program she’d started was going well, but she couldn’t round up enough volunteers to help in the mornings. She hoped by next year she would. Until then, she would continue to drive her daughter to school. It was the least she could do.

“What’s the big deal? Dad trusts us enough to walk home.”

Megan swallowed the pills and leaned against the counter. “I’m not Dad.”

The look of defiance on her daughter’s face dissolved before she walked out of the kitchen and headed back up the stairs. Megan shook her head.

“Stop arguing and just get ready,” she called over her shoulder. The thud of Alexis’s feet as they stomped up the stairs sounded along the hardwood floor.

“And change into a pair of pants without holes in the knees,” she said before Alexis had the chance to slam her door.

Megan grabbed her glass of water and headed into Peter’s office.

His desk was a mess. Books were piled up in one corner, stacks of bills and house appraisals in the other. His laptop had been moved to the edge of his desk so he could read the morning news. Peter sat there, his fingers splayed through this hair.

“Did you know about this?” He leaned back in his chair and held up the front page for her to see.

The headline captivated her attention: Missing. A ball of steel dropped in Megan’s stomach. Oh God, please let that little girl be okay. Her heart raced at the thought of another family having to experience their nightmare.

She pulled the paper toward her when she realized the picture wasn’t of the little girl plastered all over the evening news, but of Emma.

Her baby.

“Always remembered, always loved. Emma Taylor will turn five years old today. As a town, we pray for her safe return.”

“I had no idea.” Megan’s hand shook as she scanned the article and read about the attempted abduction beneath a recap about Emma. She handed the paper back to Peter who folded it up and let it drop to the floor before reaching for Megan.

“I was thinking we could play hooky and spend the day together. Maybe go for a drive along the beach?” Peter pulled her into his lap and ran his hand along her jawline before he cupped the back of her neck and brought her close.

Megan pulled away. “I have that assembly later this afternoon I need to get ready for.”

She watched the light in Peter’s eyes dim. “But, I could always pick up some coffee. . .”

Peter eyed her chest and winked. “Is there anything else on the menu with the coffee?”

Megan leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice transformed into a husky whisper. She pulled away only to be tugged back down. This time Peter didn’t settle for a small kiss. When his lips met hers, he didn’t hold back. He made sure she knew what he wanted on the menu. Megan sighed. It had been so long . . .

“Argh, would you guys get a room or something? Gross.” Alexis groaned from outside the door.

“Oops,” Megan said while Peter rubbed at his face with his free hand. “I’ll be back with coffee.”

Peter’s voice stopped her from leaving. “Promise?”

Megan looked at Peter. Really looked at him. She knew he meant more than just coffee. Their intimacy, or lack thereof, was starting to hurt their marriage. She could see it in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said. She gave him a wink before facing her daughter.

“I was thinking we could go out for ice cream or something tonight. You know, to celebrate. . .” She listened to the silence that met her words.

She took the brush and elastic Alexis held out, spun her daughter around so her back faced her, and then pulled her hair into a ponytail high on her head.

“Are we really going to celebrate Emma’s birthday?” Alexis asked.

Peter walked out of the room.

Megan swallowed past the lump in her throat as she caught the slight droop of his shoulders. “Of course we will.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head before turning her around to give her a brief hug and glance down at her new outfit. Alexis had changed into a brown sundress with tiny white flowers along the hem, a soft purple cardigan over top and blue socks pulled high up her legs. Megan shook her head but kept her mouth shut. This battle is not worth it. At least she’d changed her pants.

“All right, you. Ready? How about if I drop you off at the corner this time so you can pretend you didn’t get a ride to school.” Megan placed her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

Alexis shrugged. “Whatever.” They both knew Megan wouldn’t drive away until she knew both her children were safe inside the school. She never did.

*****

Samples to Savor: Book Club Picks, presented by Her Books:

Discover your book club’s next page-turner and spark fascinating conversations with your friends in this free sampling from eight bestselling authors. You’ll find rich prose, evocative plots, compelling characters and surprising twists from:

Finding Emma by Steena Holmes
Composing Myself by Elena Aitken
Spare Change by Bette Lee Crosby
The Scandalous Ward by Karla Darcy
The Tree of Everlasting Knowledge by Christine Nolfi
The Promise of Provence by Patricia Sands
Broken Pieces by Rachel Thompson
Depraved Heart by Kathleen Valentine

About the Author(s):
Bestselling authors Steena Holmes, Elena Aitken, Rachel Thompson, Patricia Sands, Christine Nolfi, Kathleen Valentine, Bette Lee Crosby and Karla Darcy provide readers worldwide with contemporary fiction and nonfiction releases ranging from historical romance to literary.

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Genre –  Women’s Fiction

Rating – PG

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Website http://herbestbooks.com/

Diary of a Beverly Hills Matchmaker by Marla Martenson (Excerpt)

The doctor came into the room and coldly announced that the diagnosis was terminal and that Dad had six months to live, at the most. Then he just turned around and walked out the door.

Neither of us could look at each other.

Then Dad said, “You think it’s too late for me to start eating that tofu and carrot juice you’re always trying to foist off on me?” We laughed and I hugged him.

Back in Chicago, it took me only five days to pack everything, close bank accounts, tell my boss I was leaving, say good-bye to dear friends like Rita—who would take care of Daphne for me— and hire a moving company. When I got back to California, Dad was no longer in the hospital. He had deteriorated so much that he was put into a nursing home. I spent days and nights at his side, crying and praying for help getting through this.

Mercifully he died a few days later. I was living at my aunt’s house, waiting for my things to cross the country from Chicago on a moving truck. The second hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do in my life was to drive over to the cremation place and pick up my dad’s ashes. I paid the four hundred dollars and was handed a cardboard box that weighed about ten pounds. I hid it in the back of the closet of the guest room that I was staying in.

That night, lying on the inflated mattress that was my bed for the next two months, I felt and heard a buzzing sound in my left ear. Then I heard the words in my dad’s voice, “We did okay, didn’t we? I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said.

I always feel Dad at my side in stressful times. Like right now.

I think he’s telling me to do what makes me happy. I feel in my heart that he helped me right after I moved back to L.A., back to Hollywood.

I planned on getting an agent and a job—in any line of work except waitressing—and start auditioning again. I finally found a cute little studio apartment in Hollywood that accepted dogs, a small miracle, and Daphne and I moved in. Decorating the place helped me cope with the loss of my dad, but I still felt very lost and lonely.

I did some French translation work and was also cast in bit parts as an actress. I began doing “audience work.” Yep, they actually pay people to sit in the audience at tapings of game shows and late-night talk shows. I had no idea “audience work” existed as a profession until my girlfriend, Anouchka, introduced me to it. It paid a pittance—six dollars per hour cash, sometimes more—but it was interesting. Getting on the Judge Judy show, for instance, paid a whole $40 for just sitting on your butt, staying awake, and looking interested while people bickered, ranted, and endured magisterial sarcasm.

One evening, I walked to a pharmacy up on Sunset Boulevard to get some vitamins. There I met an adorable little Polish woman from New York who also lived in the neighborhood. Sabrina and I became solid friends. We went to plays and comedy clubs together—it was a lot of fun. She introduced me to one of her girlfriends who was an agent. She signed me right away. In the meantime, Sabrina was always talking about a guy who lived in her building. She told me he was dating a gal, but it wasn’t serious.

I didn’t really care to hear about a guy who was “in a relationship,” but every time I saw Sabrina, she kept talking about this guy. She told me that he played piano at a place in Playa Del Rey. I can’t explain this, but I felt like my dad was nudging me. I was just kind of glowing with expectation the night I decided to go to the piano bar with Sabrina to secretly check him out.

Adolfo.

I liked his music, the way he played the piano, and just . . . the way he looked: Latin, handsome, with a warm smile. He came over and sat with us during his break. When he was done for the evening, we all went over to Sabrina’s apartment and had a drink. We sat next to each other on her couch, and our lips, I don’t know . . . they just . . . somehow . . . locked like magnets.

Affirmations

I will receive a belated tip from an old actress for $62.37 (adjusting for inflation and interest accrual).

My happy clients shower me with appreciation.

My Dad watches over me.

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Genre – Memoir

Rating – PG13

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The Passion of the Christoph by Christoph Paul (Excerpt)

The Infinite Jest of Picking Porn Titles

While getting my MA in creative writing I managed a porn store in northeast DC where the most important job was picking out which new releases we would carry. To do this job well I had to make picks based on our clientele, who was 80% older African-American/African, 10% Hispanic, 7% slumming gays from DuPont Circle, and a few old white guys who thought the Internet had spies and/or communist rogues. To make this important decision all I had was a fax paper listing the brand, theme, and title of the movie, with no pictures of the covers.

Yet each week I would pick videos that ended up selling, leaving my boss very impressed. So along with recommending we give out free watermelon gum (yes, we really did), he said he wanted me to create a report for a new employee on why I chose or did not choose a new release video so the uninitiated employee could learn the ropes.

As an aspiring writer, I took great pride in the assignment to show this new employee that we were not just picking videos, but engaging in the all-important subjects of the humanities. To finish the report I left the new employee a bibliography to back up my choices and educate him on The Infinite Jest of Picking Porn Titles

WHITE GHETTO—SHEMALE “MY GIRLFRIEND’S GIANT COCK”

I will have to get at least one shemale video. Though this is a good title; one of our most popular tranny series is Transsexual Prostitutes¹⁰. I once received a call from a concerned customer’s wife worried that her husband might actually be seeing transsexual prostitutes. I calmed her down and said that this is a fad and men only watch these videos but do not act on them. She cried a little and said something in Spanish¹¹. I felt bad for her and tried to comfort her saying, “It is very popular in the Hispanic community, but I don’t know why.” She then said she married a maracone¹², and hung up.

I am not sure why but the predominant customers who rent tranny movies are Hispanic men, who I assume to be in the closet. I asked this hot Hispanic girl¹³ who cooks hamburgers at my favorite establishment, The Korzo Haus¹⁴ why this was, and she said it was because no one is thought to be gay in the Hispanic community and if anyone asks he could say it wasn’t that “Maraconeish” because she had boobs. That aside, a big penis on big breasts is always a good transsexual movie. I will select this one unless Tranny Prostitutes is available.

ABIGAIL—LESBIAN “LONDON KEYES”

The actress London Keyes¹⁵ is a quite possible lock; she is a special combination of an Orientalist Fetish¹⁶, an hour-glass figure, and a generous backside. She is also a fan of anallingus¹⁷ which can be appreciated in the porn renting community. Though these are all positive attributes, the African-American majority does not care for lesbian videos¹⁸ and she does not fit the Caucasian Orientalist Fetish; I would have to pass on Mrs. Keyes. (Though I appreciate her style and sexual proclivity; it is not about the writer–it is about the customer.) Also the brand Abigail sounds artsy and like art films, art porn is not appreciated by the general porn public. In the end, people want to see Transformers over The Tree of Life.¹⁹

CHEATER’S CLUB—CUCKOLD “CHEATING WIVES”

Cuckold movies²⁰ do very well. There is a surprising amount of white men that come in and buy these videos. They usually look like accountants or the managers you would see at Bennigans who never excelled in sports like Dodgeball. There are some interesting theories about why many men would be into watching or getting cuckold: Evolutionary, male-to-male competition or what Dr. Robin Baker coined as “Sperm Wars”²¹ has played a role in reproductive strategy. The theory is that we could be programmed to be turned on by infidelity to make sure to produce other fighter sperm. This also plays into the idea of concealed ovulation and women liking certain types of men when ovulating²². Or it could just be the decadent times we live in. There are no easy answers to this phenomenon but until it gets figured out the writer would look for covers of dorky guys looking upset while their wife is being banged by a big penis stud.

HUSTLER—SHEMALE “SHEMALE SUPERSTARS”

This would be the second shemale pick unless Tranny Prostitutes 74 is available. The Shemale Superstars Series has very much tricked the writer. Every time the writer looked down at the face on the cover and found the woman very attractive, then looked lower and enjoyed the breasts, and then went lower to check out the vaginal area the writer saw a very large penis²³, being tricked every time. These men have such attractive feminine faces that it fools everyone who looks. Another popular title is Tranny Surprise, if that or Tranny Prostitutes are not available then I will select these two tranny films and will continue to look too low when it comes to tranny covers; it is very much porn store Groundhog Day.²⁴

POWERSVILLE—CUM SHOTS “COLLEGE SPUNKFEST”

Now the owner suggested we get one blow job film but we officially call them facials. Our customers would refer to them as “head joints.”²⁵ If you look on the back cover you will usually see a young girl with what looks like Elmer’s glue falling off her face. The philosophy and symbolism of the facial is quite a novelty and could appeal to the sense of power, as if to say, “I have so many sexual options. Instead of leaving my semen in your vagina for reproductive purposes I will leave it on your face.” On a side note, the image I’ve seen for this certain sexual practice will always be a girl at a beauty salon getting ready for a facial (the one for beautification purposes) looking in a mirror and seeing a large cock with sperm coming out toward her face. Not sure if it’s a lack of creativity or if this is the best way to advertise for the genre²⁶?

CABALLERO—GAY “THE 300”

Now this would be a good pick for gay men of all colors. The title would suggest the men would be rather buff, have good-sized penises, and I noticed gay men want a minor story they can watch after eating a good meal or after they have watched a design show on Bravo²⁷. Another definite yes.

With a biting sense of humor, sarcasm, and a unique worldview, Christoph Paul’s “The Passion of the Christoph” exposes readers to an unprecedented commentary on every topic. Paul’s take on sex, religion, politics, sports, to name a few, will leave you transformed as you absorb this insightful compilation of satiric and hysterical essays.

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Genre – Humor / NonFiction

Rating – NC17

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Style, Chic, Trendy, Cheap by Elle Campbell (Excerpt)

Finding Your Body Type

There are four main body types that most women can identify with. Of course everyone is unique, so you might find yourself falling into more than one category or description. However, the following basic types are a great way to start to learn how to dress for your body.

To decipher which body type category you fit into, simply think back to that honest evaluation of your body back in the last section. With those details, it should be pretty clear what body type you roughly fit into.

Ultimately, the main goal is to dress so you end up with what is called an hourglass shape. Obviously this will mean different things to different women, but the hourglass is the classically feminine curve that starts with a fuller upper body, followed by a slim waist, and finally ending in a full hip and lower body.

While all women have different goals and ideas about what looks great, the hourglass, or some variation of the hourglass, is the most common look that women strive for.

Rectangle

A rectangle body type, also sometimes referred to as a banana body type, basically means a figure that is the same size all over. Although that seems straight forward, the rectangle body is often the most difficult to dress.

A whopping 40% of women identify with the rectangle body type, making it the most common body type by far.

Many might think of a rectangle shape as a boyish frame, or only for very skinny women without any curves. The truth is you can be a rectangle with curves just as easily as a very thin one. The shape really comes down to waist definition.

The idea behind the rectangle body is that the shoulders and hips are proportional, or around the same width, but there is little to no definition in the waist.

Lack of definition in the waist may be the result of several different things. It may be that you are very slim and you are narrow in the hip and shoulder. A very small hip will result in a straight line from the shoulder to the lower body. Just as commonly, an undefined waist may come from a fuller upper body or tummy filling out the waistline, making it appear less defined.

Either way, the objective in flattering a rectangle body type is to create curves where there are none. To achieve this there are several fits and looks to opt for when shopping. These include:

· Empire waist tops and dresses cinched in right under the bust.

· Ruched, pleated or draped fabric through the midsection to create the illusion of a smaller waist.

· Wrap dresses that tie at the hip or waist.

· Pants with a slight flare leg to create curves.

· Fitted jackets that nip in at the waist.

· A - line skirts that create a line away from the midsection.

The goal in all of these items is to create or enhance the inward curve of the waist without making you look fuller or bulky. Cinching the midsection right under the bust for an empire waist is the ultimate trick for a rectangle - shaped body. It’s as if you are creating a slim, curvy waist above your natural waist that just happens to be right at the slimmest part of many women’s bodies.

 

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Genre – NonFiction / Beauty & Fashion

Rating – PG

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