Day four! Blissemas! Go win something! Kris Norris has something for you... I have no idea who Kris Norris is, so I'm interesting in finding out...
I've mentioned that December is really, really freaking busy right now, haven't I?
Because I have something else for you, isn't that nice of me?
Room for Dessert is available at JMS Books for this week, to be formally released into the wild on December 7th (Amazon, B&N, etc)
From JMS Books (all e-formats)
Faced with a choice between the dull, but comfortable, life she's made for herself, and the woman she used to love ... Sharon struggles with who she really is and what she really wants.
Sharon Gedes hasn't been the person she wanted to be for most of her life. She gave up the life of a writer, actress, and chose to settle in a small, southern town where she pretends to be someone she's not. Married, with four sons, she lives a life of quiet desperation, pretending to be straight, upright, and above all, normal.
When she spends a weekend in New York with her old girlfriend, Pilar, to ostensibly pitch her television script to an executive producer, Sharon discovers everything she's been missing, a sense of purpose, love, adventure ... and the woman she used to be.
Note: This story is included in the author’s anthology, Whetting the Appetite.
If you bought Whetting, you have this story already... if you haven't, and you're not sure you want to buy a book of short stories, you can buy this individually...
People ask me from time to time if I write about myself. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't...
Room for Dessert is ... the path I didn't travel down.
Don't get me wrong, I love my life, I love my husband, and I adore my kid. (She's really awesome!) But sometimes I think about a girl I loved back in college and wonder what would have happened if we'd been able to work things out. I don't have lots of regrets; I try not to have them. Everything that's happened made me the person I am now, and who knows which thread of back then made which tapestry of now...
I don't remember clearly what she looked like, but I can hear her voice. I think she was taller than me - everybody is taller than me, though. And I remember what her hair smelled like when she would kiss me. The way she would arch up, and the way she both loved and hated it when I stuck my tongue in her navel. (She was terribly ticklish, and I was sometimes mean.)
And to some degree, it's about the person I am now. The one who sometimes has to argue with people about being who I am. "Are you sure you're still bisexual, you haven't had sex with a woman in twenty years..." Our identity is who we ARE, not necessarily what we DO.