The amazing Kade Boehme also tagged me for this game. Yesterday, I answered Amelia’s tag with some paragraphs from the recently released Love’s Nest. Today, I’ll answer Kade’s tag with some paragraphs from a current work in progress.
The rules: Go to Page 7, 70, or 170 of a current Work in Progress or recently published work and choose either the first complete paragraph or 7 lines of dialogue to share. Paste to FB and tag 7 other authors to do the same.
Here are ten paragraphs from Everything Is Yes, a short story about diving into risk and fear. (Seven paragraphs didn’t seem to really capture the moment, so I broke the rules.)
He’d had the dreams his whole life, and they’d only ever stopped during his brief affair with David. At the time, Alex had thought it was because he’d discovered the truth about sex—it was fun, it was sometimes really good, but it was pedestrian, common, and every day.
He really wanted the kind of sex that transformed him—a phoenix from the flames.
“Yeah, that’s not how sex works,” Mandy said over her vodka tonic.
“Not with David, not with just anybody,” Alex admitted. His mind tumbled back into the dream he’d had the night before—strong arms, bristles from an unshaven face, darkness, and big hands. He’d given himself up to it entirely, body and soul, handing over his life to the hands of his partner, with no clear sense whether or not he’d get it back. “But when he comes for me, it will.”
“When who comes for you?”
“The man who makes me burn for him.” Alex always tried to remember what the man looked like, but he never could—he was just sound and touch. There was no face to search for in a crowded bar.
“You are so drunk,” Mandy replied.
And he was. But he still waited for the man who would set him aflame.
Mandy had never mentioned their conversation again, and Alex suspected she’d been too wasted to remember it. But when she harassed him to get laid, or when Alex pretended to ask himself just what was he waiting for—deep down he knew it was the dream man.
But now someone was reaching out into uncertainty, hoping by chance an answering hand— his hand—would reach back and grab hold.