Okay, I swiped Chapter 1 from the book that still does not have a title. It is not final draft, but we’ll make that our own little secret.
At the end of your reading, you will find, as promised, a link to the telltale, mood-setting music.
“Kate! Quit arguing, honey, and just pull over!”
Jesus, I hated it went things went wrong before a Lesbian Adventure Club weekend had even officially begun.
“Fine,” I barked at her. I slowed far too quickly and lurched into a convenience store’s parking lot. I shoved the car into park, saying, “I really don’t think I was driving that badly.”
“Honey, you always think you drive okay without shoes on.”
That’s because I frickin’ do, Claudia! But, I shut my mouth, even going so far as to resist the urge to point out how poorly I could have driven had I been wearing three-foot-long clown shoes. Regardless, and for the record—the DWD record, not the DMV record—I was not a bad driver. Granted, I was not as overly cautious as she was, and okay, I had somewhat of a lead foot … whose weight was a hell of a lot harder to gauge without a shoe at the weigh-in.
She unbuckled her seatbelt, twisted around, and came pretty damn close to sliding right into the backseat. I thought to help her but proved able to rein in my inner scoundrel just in time. I was already starting out the day on the wrong foot, and I desperately needed it to start out on the right one. Sock, clown, lead: It didn’t matter which. It just mattered that it did, and my testy attitude was not helping.
So, I distracted myself: I stared at her butt. While that normally would have been a good thing, a splendid thing, I instead found myself wondering how I ever convinced her that the gaudy plaid did not make her butt look bigger. Truth be told, it did. I was sure it was not anywhere near the grotesque proportions she believed, but, yes, gaudy plaid widened her load. Still, it was a damn glorious thing to behold, and I felt better.