I've been having quite a time posting this final thread, and some of you might also. Not to worry, there are still chances to win a prize. Congratulations to Jess, Catherinelee and Lilpixie (love that name!). But we still have prizes available for Days 1, 3, 4 and today. So be sure and leave a comment.
Here is my humorous excerpt, which seems to tip the server into overload everytime I try and post it. I hope that's a good sign. I've been having a great time here this week hanging out with Alice Gaines and Andrew Richardson. They're my writing buddies and I am so fortunate to be able to work with them. Just being here has renewed my enthusiasm for getting At Home With Peter and Sandra in the Suburbs finished and hopefully published in 2012. So far you all seem to like it. Let me know what you think of this. It is a work in progress, and feedback would be great.
We met Peter in the Day I excerpt from "The Hot Spot." Here's a little of Sandra in "Bamboo Delight." I've got three or four shorts done but the final one involves a menage a quatre and is a daunting proposition.
Sandra wrapped the soft cotton towel around her, securing it between her breasts. She strutted past the bay window in the dining room and the front door. Too bad if Mrs. Deaver just “stopped by" for advice on pruning roses. Or the UPS man made an early delivery.
From the smell of paint, Peter was well on his way to being finished. On her way upstairs the sound of silence was shattered by a huge crash.
“Fuck me!" Peter yelled over the sound of metal clanking on glass.
"Sure." Sandra sauntered into the room, combing out her damp hair.
Peter straddled the ladder which had tipped to one side, coming to rest against the window.
One foot rested in a paint tray and the other between the bottom rungs. Yeah, he was done.
His head whirled around when he heard her voice. "While you were down there, getting yourself off in the hot tub, I've been breaking my balls up here working. And you have the nerve to come up here dressed like a Roman statue and make fun of me!"
"Why, I was thinking more of a Greek goddess. How do you like the Brazilian bikini wax I
got yesterday?" Sandra let the towel slip off. "If you weren't gawking at me out the window the ladder wouldn't have tipped over."
Peter smeared the paint off his shoe onto the drop cloth and disentangled from the ladder, before propping it up against the wall. He stood in front of one of Jason's Metallica posters featuring a Medusa-haired musician in black leather gritting his teeth while convulsing over a guitar. Sandra stifled a laugh at the resemblance.