Posts Tagged ‘Jessica Wakefield’

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 11,697

Four
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

09

11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 8,450

Winston acted as if he hadn’t heard Bruce’s tirade. “Have you heard the new Droids album?” he asked.

“It’s pretty good,” Bruce admitted.

Winston laughed. “Talk about a joke!” he said. “Their earlier stuff was so much better.”

“They did hit their peak around 1995,” Bruce agreed.

Winston took a heavy drag on his cigarette. “1995? More like 1983,” he said, snorting.

“What’s your point, Egbert?” Bruce snarled, clearly annoyed.

Winston just shrugged.

“I don’t pay you to talk about the latest bullshit indie album,” Bruce snapped. “I pay you to fucking entertain.” Winston is totally cooler than you

09

11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 6,409

The club wasn’t very crowded. At a table to her left, Jessica spotted one of her regulars, Mr. Collins. He had been the twins’ English teacher at Sweet Valley High, and he’d popped Elizabeth’s cherry up at Miller’s Point one night. Elizabeth had come home crying uncontrollably, Jessica recalled.

Even though Mr. Collins kind of gave her the creeps, he was still one of her best-paying customers. Jessica worked her way over to his side of the stage, gyrating her hips and accepting dollar bills from A.J. Morgan and Claire Middleton as she did so.

“Hello, Mr. Collins,” Jessica said breathily, crouching down and holding out a hand for her usual tip. Inwardly, she shuddered in disgust, but in six years of dancing Jessica had become a pro at not letting her face betray her true feelings.

“Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins said warmly. “Do you need ‘advising’? Preferably in the champagne room?” Coke whoring

07

11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 5,044

“I — I lost my job today,” Elizabeth said, her voice shaking. At any moment, she was sure she was going to burst into tears.

“You did what?” Jessica screeched. “Do you know what this is going to do to my bikini line? Not to mention my career?”

“You’ll just have to work harder, Jess,” Elizabeth said quietly. She looked up at her sister, whose face was contorted in rage. “You know, help out a little bit around here.”

“You want help? Here you go,” Jessica said dismissively, reaching into her purse and pulling out a fat roll of cash. She threw it toward her twin.

“What’s this?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes wide as she unfurled the roll and started counting the money. “Jessica, these are all one-dollar bills.” Gemini to the main stage

03

11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 3,507

“Even so,” Lila said, wrinkling her nose, “you wouldn’t catch me doing something as pathetic as taking charity from someone like that.” She gave Marshall a cute little wave from across the pool. “Hi, sweetie!”

Marshall grunted and stared at a spot somewhere above Lila’s head.

“Doesn’t Marshall have some, like, children or grandchildren? You know, a rich, hot heir to the Stanton fortune…” Jessica’s voice trailed off dreamily.

Lila snorted. “Yeah, right. You think they’d let you anywhere near their bank account?”

“Why not? I have blue-green eyes the color of the Pacific ocean, a tiny dimple in my left cheek when I smile, a perfect size-six figure, and I’m a fucking Wakefield twin,” Jessica said, listing all of her best attributes. Winston gets all hip

02

11 2010

Post-coital Tristesse – Word count: 1,672

Post-coital Tristesse

by saucytemptress

One
Sweet Valley

Elizabeth Wakefield packed the last of the belongings from her desk — a framed photo of her family, her well-worn journal, a lone yellow barrette — and took one last look at the newsroom that had, for the past five years, been her home.

Penny Ayala had broken the news to Elizabeth just that morning. With her typical no-nonsense, ball-busting attitude, the editor had called Elizabeth into her office.

“We’re going to an online-only publication,” Penny had said, barely looking up from her computer screen.

Elizabeth’s brow had furrowed in concentration. Ever the seasoned reporter, she’d taken the small, spiral-bound notebook she kept nestled in between her breasts in case of breaking news and started to write down everything Penny was saying. Wakefield twin TMI ahead

01

11 2010

Paper cups for everyone!

Less than a week to go before Four Minutes Older is back and taking on Sweet Valley Confidential. If you haven’t already checked out the scandalous first chapter that details Liz’s sexual hangups and love of Beyonce, head over to www.sweetvalleytenyearslater.com.

Also, I am proud to have been the catalyst for someone’s wet dream about Bruce Patman.

25

10 2010

10 Years Later — and Four Minutes Older

So, was anyone else underwhelmed with the preview of “Sweet Valley Confidential”? I mean, it’s nice to know that Elizabeth cries when she comes and all, but a Sweet Valley without a date-rapist Bruce Patman is a Sweet Valley I don’t want any part of.

I’m gearing up to tackle “Sweet Valley Confidential” Four Minutes Older style. Join me for day-shift hooker Jessica, gold-diggin’ Lila and a Bruce who still has the balls to attempt date rape!

17

07 2010

Prom Baby! – The full story

Prom Baby! – Word count: 50,000

“Oh, that is it!” Elizabeth said angrily, tossing her newborn little boy over her shoulder and hoping Winston would catch him. She scrambled to her feet, walking with purpose toward Satan. “Mr. Satan, I’ll have you know I had absolutely nothing to do with this. I’m Saint Elizabeth fucking Wakefield!”
“You had nothing to do with this?” the devil asked, sweeping his hand to indicate the carnage in the Sweet Valley High parking lot. “Whose idea was it to slaughter hundreds of Big Mesa students by locking them in the gym and blowing it up?”
“Hey, I flashed Randy Mason twenty-two times just so the gym wouldn’t blow up,” Elizabeth countered. “That has to count for something, right?” OMG 666

26

11 2009