Yes, this is me.
What is My Sexy Saturday?
Authors get together and post 7 sentences, 7 words or 7 paragraphs of one of their books.
Here’s my 7 from One Bad Day…
Gray glanced across the parking garage and smiled. Legs in
hot pants was coming out of the hotel and walking toward the
parking garage. Her gloves and huge light bulb head were missing
but—lucky for him—she still had on the strappy heels and
tiny white skirt. Without the head she was tiny. She walked under
the light in front of the hotel and he saw that she had light brown
curly hair that came to her shoulders. She looked to be a couple of
years younger than him. She stumbled and he thought her heard
her say “Shit!” which made him chuckle out loud.
One Bad Day is available now.
Here’s the link to everyone participating in My Sexy Saturday.
Crap is one of my favorite words. It fits just about any situation.
You stub your toe. “Well crap!”
You are referring to something general. “Bring that crap here.”
It’s a polite way to say other impolite words. I love the word crap. It’s craptastic!
So, why am I no longer allowed to say it?
One night, the hubby made dinner. This was when The Girl was around 4 years old. I was working a crappy corporate job and was late coming home. (See! It works.)
I arrived home just in time for dinner. My hubby dished out plates of food and set them in front of the kids. The Boy picked up his food and ate right away.
The Girl looked down at the plate, looked back up at Daddy and said “I can’t eat this crap!”
After that, I was forbidden to use the word crap in my house.
Six paragraphs from my current novel One Bad Day.
Tessa is having one seriously bad day. After agreeing to dress as a cheesy mascot at a convention for her boss, her clothes get stolen, she gets chased through a sinister parking garage, and her apartment gets broken into and turned upside down.
Gray, an off-duty police officer, can’t resist the sexy legs he sees in costume at a hotel convention. When he catches sight of her running for her life through a dark car lot, he’s determined to find out what her story is and ends up promising to keep Tessa safe…even if that means taking her home with him.
Eight hours later, Tessa sat on the locker room bench struggling
to get the cumbersome light bulb off her head. Her feet hurt
and she was sure she had several blisters from her stupid, but still
cute, shoes. She made a mental note to request to see the costume
ahead of time if she was ever asked to be a mascot again.
“Let me help you get the head off,” Irene said while lifting
the giant light bulb off of Tessa. “I’m going to put this in the main
office and then I’ve gotta run. After you change, just take Claudia’s
gloves and stuff home and wash them. I gave her your number.
She said she’ll text you to get it all back.”
“Okay.” Tessa began pulling off the white gloves.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for
me.” Irene opened the locker room door, awkwardly clutching
the mascot head. “Turn off the lights when you leave. Have a
great weekend,” she called over her shoulder as she left, the door
closing behind her.
Tessa sighed and then caught her reflection in the locker room
mirror. Oh crap. With the thin, white tank top that showed the
outline of her bra, the white skirt that came to the tops of her
thighs and her strappy stilettos, she totally looked like a hooker.
She went over to get her bag so she could change into her own
clothes and saw it wasn’t there. Remembering how she’d knocked
all her things all over the floor, she looked around. She found a
stray quarter under the bench, but no bag. She clearly remembered
hanging it up. She checked around the locker room to see
if it was hanging somewhere else. No bag. Well didn’t that just
figure? Now she’d have to go home in the hooker clothes.
Tessa grabbed her coat off the hook and put it on. After rolling
off the white gloves and jamming them in a coat pocket, she stuck
her hand in the other pocket and sighed with relief when she felt
her keys. Jiggling them a bit to loosen the change and other items
tangled with them, she fished around until she found her cell
phone. At least she had her phone and a way of getting home. She
would hate to have to walk home looking like an exotic dancer
from the waist down.
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