Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You=2 0don’t have to be published to participate–just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above. Please enjoy the beginning of my newest erotica novel: Treasure Chest. This is the first scene. It is short, but hopefully enjoyable for you :) I will post the rest of chapter one (where Regan confronts Lanie for her 'gift' and attends a sex toy party!) in January. Cheers! Kendal
Chapter One
Somewhere between dessert and my second glass of chardonnay I realized my date was a male prostitute. Lanie was dead. So fucking dead.
I sipped my wine, and tried not to choke on the realization that my so called best friend had set me up. It gave new insight into her “Ken’s guaranteed to show you a good time” comment. My knuckles ached from the fist I had clenched in my lap.
“So Ken, what exactly is it you do for a living?” I tilted my head to the side, still clinging to the faint hope that the cute, intelligent, oh-so-charming man who’s sole attention was focused on me, little old me, wasn’t a stud for hire.
He leaned back in the plush leather chair of the bar lounge, a dimple indented his cheek when he flashed me a pearly white grin. “A little of this and a lot of that.”
“That’s vague.” I muttered, downing the last mouthful of the sweet, tart wine. Tension coiled in my stomach as I debated in my head how horrible it would be to take advantage of the situation. Is it even possible to take advantage of a prostitute? Judging by the expensive material of Ken’s suit, and the way his dress shirt clung to his taunt chest, he was very good at “A little of this and a lot of that”. Too bad Lanie wasted her money.
“And what is it you do, Regan?”
I almost snorted, but coughed to cover it up. Yeah, like I was going to tell him about my midnight shifts at Dunkin Donuts. But it hadn’t always been Grande Venti and almond biscottis. Not that long ago I’d had a career. But then I became the “other woman” and had to quit. “I’m in school taking Message Therapy.”
One eyebrow cocked high on his forehead. Right, like he had a right to give me that sly look. Hello? You have sex for money, bud.
“I’ve been complimented on my talented fingers in the past. Maybe I could show you.” His hand stretched across the table and one finger stroked over my knuckles still clutching the empty wine glass. I giggled and he smiled. Oops. How cute. He actually thought that line would work.
I gingerly pulled my hand away and glanced at my watch. “Sorry, but I really need to get going. I told the babysitter I’d be home by ten.”
His hand retreated, “You have kids?”
“A boy.” I resisted the urge to pull out my wallet and show off pictures of Lucas. I’d just gotten the pictures back from his first birthday party, and nothing was cuter than a baby covered in head to toe chocolate cake. I pushed my chair back and Ken followed suit. His prep school good looks reminded me of the doll I use to play with as a kid. But I bet, unlike Barbie’s boyfriend, this Ken actually was atomically correct and all his bits were in fine working order. A sigh bubbled up and parted my lips. Too bad I wasn’t the kind of girl to enjoy Lanie’s gift because I needed to get laid in a bad way.
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