Sunday Story - instalove

In a couple of the reviews for The Virginity Mission, it was said that it was "too instalove" for them. I've been thinking about that for a long time now. And I'm a bit worried because Deep Diving isn't a lot different.

I'm not really one for big conflict. I'm non-confrontational because I hate the stress and bother of conflict. I hate the churning nerves, the hurt, the horribleness. And this is true in my writing. I can't do big conflict. I can't even think of something that would be a huge conflict, let alone write it.

And with erotic romance, shouldn't it be instalust that turns into love? That's kind of what I thought The Virginity Mission was and what I think Deep Diving is.

But I guess if I can get an antagonistic beginning with an underlying sexual tension, then that ramps up the feelings and emotions, doesn't it? So I've been trying to think up a story where I could manage to do that. (I know, it's only taken 8 months of thinking!!)

But last night I think I might have cracked one. I think I might have a story beginning, where the hero and heroine don't like one another, then are at odds over their work, but all the while there's an underlying burning need to act on pheromones and bonk their brains out.

So...I know I wasn't starting anything new until I finished my old bits and pieces...but a woman's allowed to change her mind, huh?

So we'll see if this story works. I'd paste the start here if I could but it's only scribble on paper for now! Let's see if I can crank it out in a few months. Fingers crossed!

UPDATED ON TUESDAY
Here's the first almost 2K - unedited and raw. Do you reckon it might work?

I’m with my friends, in our local pub, high on life and love at a hen’s night. There’s wild laughter. We’re drinking shots, which is far more alcohol than we’d usually consume. A local band is playing wild rock songs with the bass thumping through me like a heartbeat.

A few city guys are at a table nearby. Dressed sharp, out of place, but enjoying the vibe. They’re heckling us, laughing and joking, except for one hard-nosed bastard who’s not playing the game at all.

There are five of us and five of them. Of course when we pair up, I’m left with the hard-nosed one. But that’s okay. I’m not the hen and not as drunk as the others. He’s reluctant to dance, or talk, or drink. He may have a good reason, like being married or a recent widower, but I’ll never know because his lips are sealed, or not so much sealed but pinched tight and drawn.

“Sure I can’t get you a drink?” I lean on the table, chin in my hand. He’s strangely attractive. The dark stubble on his strong jaw calls to my fingertips. The piercing blue eyes are deep pools I want to explore. There’s a thick lock of dark brown hair falling across his forehead, as if he’s trying to hide, and I’d like to hold it back to stare at him more closely.

He shakes his head sharply. His neck is thick, pushing against the blue collar of his shirt. His top button is undone and the thin, dark blue tie is pushed down tight as if he couldn’t stand it strangling him anymore.

“And I can’t tempt you to dance?” I should give up but there’s an alcohol-induced perversity egging me on.

“No.” His gaze doesn’t lift from the table, even as I wish he’d lock glances with me.

“Not even if I beg, and promise to behave?”

A muscle twitches along his jaw, I think. I stop any further begging in case he’s going to respond. But he doesn’t. A shame because the cedar scent of him, that raspy stubble, and the wrestled tie all point to someone I’d like to get up close and personal with.

With a shrug, I get up from the table. You can’t waste time on men like that, regardless of attraction. Pheromones can get it wrong. This time they surely have.

The dancing is hard and wild. There are lots of locals here, not just our parties, but locals are known quantities, strangers make the hen’s night fun.

Shae’s the bride-to be, Jenna’s her sister. Erin, Hayley and I are bridesmaids. Jenna’s getting steamy with the youngest of the strangers. He looks about her age, early twenties. We’re all a bit older. Hayley and Erin are close to the guys they’re dancing with, and Shae’s partner looks like he’s keeping her at least three feet away. I join them.

“Mind if I join you?” I scream over the music close to Shae’s ear. She doesn’t try to speak, just grabs my arm and pulls me toward them. She’s grinning and so’s her mystery man.

“I’m Brooke,” I scream near his ear.

“Craig.” He points to himself. “Forget Aiden. We do.” He waves his hand over toward the hard-nosed one and laughs. It’s hard to tell over the music but it could be forced. Maybe he’s a little embarrassed by his friend’s behaviour.

Aiden. It’s a soft sounding name, when he’d better suit Rock or a harsher sounding name. He’s watching us but not with a smile or anything close to that. It’s a harsh stare, but he could also be thinking of something awful and just have his head turned our way. He doesn’t appear to have any connection to his surroundings. But who cares about him?

The three of us do a great job of dancing, bumping and gyrating. Hands, arms and bodies, brushing, sliding, linking and rubbing. Craig’s not so distant when there’s two of us, which makes little sense to me until I glimpse the sheen of gold on his left hand. When the music is the wildest, Shae and I sandwich Craig. Shae gyrates against his left and I shimmy against his right side. He’s laughing, joking, smacking us in turn with his hips. It’s insane. The whole pub’s screaming lyrics and dancing like idiots, except hard-nosed Aiden. I shouldn’t be watching him but movement caught my eye.

He’s standing, has made a stack of the empty glasses, then he rubs his hands down the front of his trousers. My pheromones groan because I can’t rub against those thick thighs. With the barest glance toward us, he leaves. He doesn’t stalk but it’s not a happy walk that takes him out the door and out of view. I hope he goes out of mind too. Someone that rude doesn’t need to occupy my brain, it’s enough that he affected my hormones.

When last drinks are called and the band moves to something slow, Craig wraps his left arm around Shae and his right around me, swaying to the romantic tune. His arms are warm, comforting, and I don’t mind being nestled in a threesome. I poke my head around his chest to grin at Shae, who is laughing up at Craig. Her hen’s night has turned out better than we expected because of a bunch of fly-by-night city blokes, here for a good time.

Jenna glides by, wrapped tightly in the arms of her conquest, their lips locked so it looks like they’ll never part.

“Go for it, John-boy,” Craig calls to the smooching couple.

I smack his arm and Shae gasps. “That’s my sister he’s going for it with.”

Craig lands a peck on Shae’s cheek. “Then she’s in good hands. John’s a great guy. He’ll treat her fine.”

“He better or he’ll have both of us to contend with.” I dig my elbow into Craig’s side, making sure I stick up for my mates.

We weave our way back to our table, ready to leave.

“Would you ladies like to continue back at our place?” Craig’s question is a shock to me. I thought he’d been holding back from us, and now he wants to kick on. It makes no sense.

Shae doesn’t follow my thinking. She places her fingers on Craig’s arm. “That’s really sweet but I’m getting married next weekend. It was my hen’s night tonight and you guys made it special enough already. Thank you.”

“How’d we make it special?”

“The dancing and flirting.”

I try not to groan at Shae’s own case of flirting. She’s gorgeous, petite, blonde and fit. Men flock to her in droves, even without knowing she’s loaded. And it’s because of this openness, these happy flirtations. Shae is someone you want to be around.

Craig laughs. “Don’t tell my wife I was flirting.” He turns to Shae. “I hope your wedding day is beautiful.”

“Why don’t you come?” she says. Shae is incredibly generous and it’s so like her to invite new friends and old. The she bites her lip and shots uncomfortably before adding. “Except you won’t be here next weekend. No one stays out here for-”

“We’re here for a couple of weeks at least, working. But you can’t impulsively invite me. What about catering and stuff?”

I burst out a laugh before Shae jabs my ribs to silence me. I take a few steps further away from them but I can still hear their conversation.

What could these guys be doing in town that has them staying weeks? Nothing takes that long. Doctors, lawyers, bank managers, loan officers, they all only fly in for a few days at a stretch. Sometimes they don’t stay longer than a day. A couple of weeks means road workers, miners, engineers, something more physical than professional desk jockeys.

“It’s a big party out at the lake. The whole town’s likely to be there. Just bring your own drinks. Two o’clock Saturday.” Shae’s explaining about her wedding, in her usual understated manner.

“Thanks, Shae, that’s lovely. I’ll be there.”

“Bring your mates too, of they’re still around. The more the merrier.” Shae stretches up and drops a kiss on Craig’s cheek. “See you, and thanks.”

Shae follows me out to my ute. “Are you sure you’re right to drive?” She checks with me before she opens the door.

“I’m positive. I haven’t had anything but water while we danced. I promised I’d look after you and get you home. I can’t do that pissed.”

“True, true,” Shae mutters as she slides in. “Did Erin and Hayley go already?”

“They waved while you were talking to Craig. They went off with their guys.”

“Brooke, you missed out big time tonight. How’m I gonna make that up to you?” Shae grins, and I don’t like it when she gets that look in her eye.

I start the car and head for her house, hoping she’ll forget that train of thought.

She doesn’t. “So, Aiden...” Her voice tapers off to leave it a question, which I don’t fall for. After a long silence, she fills in her own answer. “He was as surly as he looked and you couldn’t crack him?”

I counter-question instead of answering. “What could they possibly be doing that they’re here for a couple of weeks?”

“Probably at the mines. What do you reckon?”

“My guess too. They’ll stay in town and get the bus pick up each day.”

Shae scratches her cheek with the pad of her thumb. “I think Craig said geology, but the music was so loud.”

I hit the brakes and pull the ute to a stop, short of Shae’s house but in her street.

“This isn’t my place?” She frowns and turns toward me, the door cracked open and the interior light on. “Shit, what is it?”

I gulp to clear my throat, hoping it’ll clear my head too. “You don’t think...” My voice is choked up and the words garbled. I try again. “You don’t think they’re from the mining company?” I take a ragged breath and explain when Shae doesn’t catch on. “The one who wants to claim my farm?”

“Shit.” Shae’s word echoes my thought when I stopped the car. She grabs my hand. “Shit. I invited them to my wedding.”

There’s nothing we can do but look bleakly at each other. Every farmer in the district will have their blood if that’s who they are and they attend the wedding. But we can’t worry about that now. We don’t know who they are.

“Shut the door, Shae, and I’ll drop you home. They’re probably geologists for the open cut mine and we’ve panicked for nothing.”

She shuts the door and I drive to her house. We walk inside, silently. I wonder if she’s having the same thoughts as I am...thoughts of a wedding turned into a political minefield.