Friday, February 10, 2017

Friday Previews

I've been immersed in Chyna's universe for the last few months. The sequel has been completed and sent off to my pub for consideration. Now I'm writing the spin-off featuring a new couple. Last week I watched Katie Couric's National Geographic special called Gender Revolution. She shared a lot of good information, and it was especially gratifying for me, as an author. to know I wrote my first intersex character accurately. If you're interested, here's a snippet from the book Chyna Doll and the buy links. Dreamspinner Press is having a special sale on paperbacks for a week. As with all their books, if you buy a paperback you get the e-book for free.

Here's the excerpt of Chyna Doll

     All Chyna wanted was to fit in. She’d have given anything to be one of her dumpy half sisters or adorable like Chip, but that wasn’t the hand she was dealt. So why not turn lemons into lemonade? If she were to become a supermodel, no one would give a shit if she were as tall as a Christmas tree and just as colorful. She’d be idolized, and the paparazzi would stalk her on her way to and from work, thinking she was doing them a favor by letting them take a photo. Maybe then Luca might think of her as more than Chip’s baby sister. She wasn’t sure when her feelings for her brother’s best friend had begun to change, but they sure as heck had shifted in the last few months. In the past Luca had simply been a part of the landscape. Now he was the main reason she hung around the football field. A smile in her direction made her tummy flop, and the urge to cross her legs and squeeze was also new and unexpected. Suddenly Luca had a leading role in all of her daydreams.
     She could be his Gisele B√ľndchen. He’d be the next Tom Brady. They’d date; she’d perfect her blowjob skills to hold him off until the wedding and send him topless selfies to keep him happy. Instead of real sex, she’d turn into his gorgeous slirgin, the slutty virgin girlfriend he could fantasize about while jerking off. Finally, he’d cave and propose, and after the biggest, most elaborate wedding in the universe, he’d whisk her off in his private jet to an island somewhere in the Caribbean. Then he’d peel off the beautiful designer blouse, suck on her man-made boobs, and tell her she was the most desirable woman in the world. He’d carry her to bed, the one on the raised dais draped with mosquito netting like the kind she saw on a Sandals Resort commercial. He’d call her his glorious Amazon, his warrior queen, his incredible woman, and then he’d take off her pants—and the fairy tale would turn into a nightmare.
     Luca would hack her into pieces, and no jury on earth would convict him. How could they? Seeing a dick when expecting a regular hoo-ha was just cause for murder.

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