SO I was sittin in a cafe this morning doing some work on the series, when I started to write a Mills & Boon scene. Some of you will know my background in writing pretty much covers comedy, and not much else. Never have I been asked to write about real love, sex, or something that doesn’t contain a joke about breasts. So now that I’ve been asked to write about my own love life (and to not leave out the sexy details), I tend to have quite realistic ‘sex flashbacks’ .. in public
I’m one of those writers that really has to get into what I’m writing. (Yep, I’m one of those wankers) So I visualise everything. I’m very lucky that I’m writing about my own life and own experiences because I’ve already lived what I’m writing. But when I want to go back to.. say that night with a particularly hot guy; I have to close my eyes and really get back to that frame of mind. What was I feeling, doing, ect. So when it starts to get a little hot and heavy.. the palms start to sweat, the smile on my face increases, and before I know it I look like this:
Replace Judith with the waitress holding my coffee with a look of concern on her face as one of her patrons is having (what looks like ) an orgasim in her cafe and you have the situation that was this morning.
Perhaps I should start writing these scenes in the privacy of my own home.
So I’ve got something a little special for this weeks ‘Six Sentence Sunday‘ ..
Firstly, thank you for everyones comments last week. I really appreciated them.
This is a snippet from the second instalment of my series ‘Mr Perfect’s Apprentice’ which isn’t being released until February. Not even my beautiful editor or publisher has seen this before. It’s fresh from the writing desk. Take a look:
His hand caresses my blushed red cheeks as his face gets closer toward mine. I close my eyes and simply let my lips touch his.
It might be the four wines I’ve had, but I feel my body surrender to what is happening as I feel his right hand wrap around my waist drawing me closer to his strong and solid body. My smile is uncontrollable as he draws back to look at me.
“For a first time kisser, that was pretty damn good.”
I want to say something witty like “Youtube tutorials can actually teach you anything” but on second thought, I think a less honest approach is the way to go.
Please note, that the video I linked isn’t the actually video that I watched to learn how to kiss, (yes, this is a true story) but the one I’ve linked his hilarious. Defiantly worth a giggle.
So that’s my first kiss. If you liked that then I can assure you you’ll love the rest of that chapter. Keep an eye for ‘Second Time Lucky’ being released in February and ‘At First You Don’t Succeed’ being released in January by ‘Tercio Publishing’. Watch this space!
I’d love any feedback you may have. As a new writer, any advice from anyone is useful. Hit the ‘Leave a comment’ button bellow and don’t forget to add your six sentence link to the comment so I can read yours.
My first ‘Six Sentence Sunday!’
This is a small snippet from my series ‘Mr Perfect’s Apprentice’ – Part 1: At first you don’t succeed. Basically I was extremely happy about my recently retail purchase, and I saw this really hot guy on the train whom I thought he was giving me flirtatious eyes.. Maybe he was checking out my new shirt.. Maybe not.
I begin to make my way towards the doors of the train when ‘sexy eyes’ stops me in my tracks..
“Excuse me, but I just thought you should know..”
That I am the man of your dreams and you want to take me away to your penthouse apartment to make passionate love to me all night long whilst whispering sweet nothings in my ear?
“.. that you’ve forgotten to take the price tag off your shirt.”
I want to climb into a hole and die, but I take a deep breath and reach around to the back of my shirt to rip off the tag. Somehow I don’t think sexy eyes is jealous of my op-shop purchase, even if I did get it for $2.50.
I do apologise for my lack of blogging. It’s been a busy few weeks getting the first part of the series sent of to the editor. I can’t wait for you guys to read it!
P.S Any feedback would be great.
Thats right folks! Black Pritchard is no longer the jobless male he was on Thursday.
If you checked out my blog about a coffee course I did then you’ll know that I was asked to apply for a job as a ‘Apprentice Barista’ for some guys cafe in Bourke Street. It was an interesting experience I’ll tell you that.
Like every good boy, I decided it’s better to be early than late. Perhaps one of the good things my mother taught me from such a young age but in this case, I may have taken it a little to far: The interview was set for 2 o’clock, and I arrived at 12:30. Luckily, (unlike the rest of the world) Melbourne is a wonderful city that has a cafe next to a cafe so I could easily just sit for the next hour and a half and wait. But I wanted to check out the place first so I did a little walk-by inspection just to see what kind of people worked there, if it was busy. You know, the shit you should already know before you walk into an interview. It was an outdoor café and unbeknownst to me, by walking past, I was in fact standing smack bang in the middle of the place. I really wish I had realised this earlier because not two seconds later this young waitress was walking out of the kitchen, backwards through the door to come outside, with a bowl of pumpkin soup. She then swept passed me but tripped, with her face heading right for my chest, which sends me flying to the ground and her landing right on top of me with the pumpkin soup splattered all over us both. This is as close to hertro-sex as I’d like to get.
“Oh holy-shit balls”
Seem to be the only words she is capable of pulling out of her mouth. I’m in shock and am lost for words. I wish I had something witty to say, but alas, I’m more concerned about the fact that I have ruined my only (clean) white t-shirt. The only thing I can do is laugh. Why is she still on top of me? Once she finally dismounts me, she introduces herself as Gemma, obviously one of the waitresses here. I’m not sure if I should tell her that I’ve got a job interview in an hour and a half, it might come across as desperate or dorky but I am covered in pumpkin soup, so she suggests taking me out the back to get washed up. I don’t really have any other option so I’m forced to go through the kitchen to the back room where there is a bathroom, and Gemma finds me one of the cafés t-shirts for me to replace my now orange mush that’s on my (now) old shirt. As I’m changing my shirt a tall guy with short black hair comes around the corner to see what all the fuss is. He introduces himself as Scott, the manager. And the guy I’ve got my interview with. Brilliant, I’m not sure how I’m going to get myself out of this one. So I come clean. Both literally and metaphorically. I explain that my name is Blake and I’m ridiculously early for the interview and that I was just checking the place out before I came back at 2. It’s like a light-blub went off in Gemma’s head.
“You’re the guy Claire was talking about! Good looking country kid!” She says enthusisatically.
“Gemma, Keep it in your pants.” Scott snaps.
Great. So I’ve already got a reputation in this town and I’ve been here for all of two seconds. Hey, I’m not complaining, there are a lot worse thing for people to be saying. Being the ‘country kid’ isn’t always a bad thing and if they want to throw something about good looks then I’m not going to stop them. It’s ironic that the only people that have called me good looking in my entire life have been women. Maybe I was straight in a past life.
Luckily, Scott shared the same views as my mother. He appreciates it when people are earlier rather than later and he was’t busy so he said he could interview me now.
I decided honesty was the best policy when it came to this interview. I had never had another job, I’ve never worked in hospitality, and I think that lattés and flat whites are the same thing. I think he was a little taken a-back with all my honesty. He wanted me to make him a latté and a Piccolo latté. Shit. What the fuck is a Piccolo latté. Calmly I used every bit of will power to remember what the fuck it could have been. I had guessed. One short of coffee with a bit of foam on the top. I remember that was one of the fancy named ones.
Scott laughs and tries the latté.
“You know, I never saw the purpose of a flat white either. But you give the people what they want. You’re coffee is alright. I’ll teach you the rest of the stuff you need to know when you start next week. Sound good?”
I’m a little speechless for the second time today.
And just like that.. I’m now employed bitches! Sure, it’s only $15 an hour but I sure could be doing a lot worse! I know some of my high school friends that worked in McDonalds for a lot less so in my eyes I’m doin’ grand!
I went home to have a Champagne with my socailly awkward Aunt. She was asleep after one, and I finished the rest of the bottle while dancing in my living room like this.
Cheers to my new job! Hopefully this means i’ll have some friends to celebrate with in the future!
Check out my Twitter while you’re reading this. I think you should follow me, I’m so new to this and have such few followers, it just looks sad.