Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 26,076

“Jessica? Jessica?”

Someone was shaking her awake. Jessica sat up with a start, for one terrifying moment believing the Sweet Valley date rapist had broken into her home. She lashed out, slapping at the person in front of her.

“Ouch, Jess, stop it!” Elizabeth cried, flinching and pulling back.

Jessica’s eyes focused in the dim light and fixated on her twin. She noticed Elizabeth’s cheeks were wet with tears.  “Oh, Liz, it’s just you,” she mumbled sleepily. “Can you make me a grilled cheese?” Bitch in the kitchen


03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 24,358

Bruce looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Elizabeth had been crying for the last 20 minutes. Awkward, he thought. I know I’m good, but she needs to calm the fuck down.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, trying to drown out the image of Elizabeth sobbing. He hoped the servants hadn’t heard her crying — it was perfectly fine that they had heard the moans of passion he had drawn from Elizabeth’s lips, but he had a reputation to uphold. And a crying bitch did nothing for his repuation.

“Do you do this every time?” he asked in a bored tone, staring up at the ceiling.

Elizabeth sniffled. “Y- yes,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“Yeah, not interested,” Bruce said coolly, sitting up and covering his enormous package with the bedsheet. “I just want to know if I can expect the same thing next time.” Enormous. Riiiiiiiiiiiight.


03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 22,739

“Well then,” Bruce said, coming up behind Elizabeth and placing his hands on her waist, “looks like it’s just you and me.”

Elizabeth nodded, her body stiffening at Bruce’s touch. “Uh, Bruce, I hate to ruin the moment and everything, but is that — is that a can of peaches in your pocket, or—”

“No,” he said, his voice low with desire. “No, it’s not a can of peaches.”

Tears began to roll down Elizabeth’s cheeks as her body was racked with uncontrollable sobs. Stripper fight!


03 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 21,283

“Winston!” Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing over to her old friend and giving him a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

Winston pried himself out of Elizabeth’s grip and continued to mix powdered creamer into his coffee. It’s too early for this shit, he thought. And what the fuck is she wearing? A powder blue linen suit? Bruce doesn’t even wear suits to work!

“Uh, hey, Elizabeth,” he mumbled, stirring the coffee. “Guess we’re co-workers now, huh?”

“I know!” Elizabeth squealed. “It’s so exciting! I’m just so happy to be working with my best friends!” OMG besties!!


03 2011

Post-coital tristesse — Word Count: 19,572

As the man got into the car, Enid again looked at his face, this time, recognition dawning on her. “Oh, I know you!” she said, giggling.

The man smiled at Enid as he reached behind her seat and pulled out a paper cup and a bottle of wine. He poured the wine into the paper cup and added a small pill. “The wine is a 1945 Merlot. The date rape drug is a 1995 roofie,” he said, handing her the cup. “It was an excellent year.”

Enid accepted the cup and pounded back the wine. “You’re Bruce Patman,” she said, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

“Something like that,” he said, turning the key in the ignition as Enid slipped into darkness. Crackies everywhere


01 2011

NaNoWriMo win and other updates

I’m sorry for being a total Jessica and slacking off. I did finish “Post-coital Tristesse” in time for a NaNoWriMo win, but got behind on the blogging part of it. Now that I have some time off work for the holidays, I’ll be updating the blog with the rest of the story and also posting a link with the novel in its entirety. Thanks for reading — it means so much to me that there are people who are interested in the crazy crap I come up with!


12 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 18,041

“That’s impossible!” Elizabeth cried, throwing off her Snuggie. It slid to the floor and landed in a sleeved heap. “Bruce is my new BFF. I mean, sure, he may get a little handsy every now and then, but he’s certainly not a rapist!”

“Date rapist,” Jessica said, correcting her twin for once. “He at least has the decency to get a girl good and drunk or otherwise impaired beforehand.”

“Police have also declined to speak further about the case,” Amy continued. “They have, however, referred all questions about the Sweet Valley date rapist to a ragtag bunch of 16-year-olds with an uncanny ability to solve crimes and a shocking lack of parental supervision.”

Elizabeth shook her head angrily as Amy concluded her report.

“For Sweet Valley Action News, I’m Amy Sutton. Token Sweet Valley High Character We Don’t Give a Shit About But Who Inexplicably Became a News Anchor, back to you.”

“Thanks, Amy,” Jeffrey French said as the camera cut back to him. “Coming up: A look at your local forecast, which as we all know will be sunny and perfect, but first, our nightly check of the Wakefield twins’ bowel movements and a special report on why Elizabeth doesn’t love me anymore.” We’ll never know why


11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 15,560

The sun burned into Todd’s pasty, flabby skin. Through his sunglasses, he could discreetly check out Ken’s perfectly sculpted abs as the two of them lounged on their towels.

It’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, it’s Elizabeth I love, Todd repeated to himself over and over. Everything I’m doing — spying on her through her windows at night, getting in shape so I can impress her by joining a recreational basketball league, helping Ken get over the pain of losing Olivia sometime in the late 1990s — everything I’m doing is to win back Elizabeth.

But it was getting more and more difficult to convince himself, especially when Ken was lying just inches away from him in nothing but a tiny red bathing suit. Hotness


11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 13,854

Sweet Valley

Jessica had picked out the perfect bikini at the Sweet Valley Mall, a stunning turquoise two-piece that complemented her blue-green eyes and showed off her awesome rack. There’s no way Marshall the fifth can resist me in this little number, Jessica thought. He – and his bank account! – won’t know what hit him!

Jessica applied one last coat of mascara. She knew Marshall the fifth was waiting downstairs in his limo, but, as any woman knew, it was best to make a man wait. I make my living making men wait, Jessica thought, smiling wryly.

“Jessica!” Elizabeth called up the stairs. “Are you ready yet? It’s rude to keep your date waiting.”

“When was the last time I didn’t keep a date waiting?” Jessica shot back. She applied a thick layer of lipstick in a deep, vampy shade of red and pursed her lips.

Elizabeth pulled back the curtain and peeked out at the limo parked across the courtyard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw curtains and blinds quickly snap shut in two of the other condos. Bizarre, Elizabeth thought, shaking her head. Shit’s about to get aaaaaawkward


11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 11,697

Sweet Valley

Jessica laughed, a silvery little giggle she sometimes used with clients to make them throw more dollar bills her way. “Oh, Marshall Stanton V, you are just the most fascinating man I’ve ever met in my entire life,” she purred, running a finger up his arm.

Never mind the fact that he’s approaching 70 and has less hair than boring old Todd Wilkins at this point, Jessica thought, shuddering. This fucker is totally loaded!

“As are you,” he replied. “Except you’re not a man. And you’re not even that fascinating. But you are beautiful.”

Jessica caught Lila’s eye and grinned, sticking her tongue out at her best friend as Marshall V turned away to admire one of the many original paintings decorating the walls of Lila Crest. Lila scowled and tipped back her fourth glass of champagne, downing it in one swallow. Indie cred


11 2010