"Thin" isn't a word anyone has ever used to describe me. "Beautiful" isn't either. But "sexy"? Well, that's another story.
It's funny how long it takes us to come to a realization of who we really are. For me, it took just over 40 years. My whole life I'd struggled with the weight of my own expectations—always wanting to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter, to have better cheekbones, to have my hair be a better color or my complexion a little better.
The grill was hot and sending enticing aromas floating throughout the neighborhood. Everywhere there was laughter and conversation as the family caught up at the last blast of summer — the annual Labor Day cookout.
Zach stole a glance at the cooler as his uncle fished out a beer. Daydreaming about how good an ice-cold beer would go down, he sighed.
Jan didn't know Carol very well. Of course she had seen Carol around the neighborhood some, and they ran into each other at the grocery sometimes. But they really weren't friends, just acquaintances. Jan had heard things about Carol and her husband Rob. One of the neighborhood rumors was that the couple went to some pretty wild parties, but Jan wasn't sure she believed it. As far as she knew they were just another middle-aged couple.
Dr Dominic Gale leafed through his file as he waited for the elevator to reach its destination. It contained the medical notes of his latest referral, one Gwen Sutton. Without seeing the patient they were nearly useless as a diagnostic tool but helpful in avoiding the large blue eyes of Nurse Schluter.
Since her transfer to the hospital a month ago she had made it very clear that she found him sexually attractive.
On the outskirts of any big city you will find a few scattered small towns not yet gobbled up by the ravenous metropolis. They tend to be away from the major highways, which is probably the reason they haven't been overwhelmed. But with the big city just there, a lot of people drift from the small towns to the city itself. Shops that used to support the small town just can't compete with the big city malls and close down.
For the life of her, Fiona Barrymore could not imagine why she kept attending these things.
She had been with Spicer Industries for longer than she cared to remember, working her way up from receptionist to senior vice-president, and yet she could not remember a single Christmas party that was anything more than a wonderful cure for insomnia.
It's an unusual day in many ways.
For a start I've got the day off work and have the entire day to myself. It is very unusual for me to take time off work, but I have just been on a long business trip and did not arrive home until the early hours of the morning. I sent a text to my boss when I got home informing him that I would not be in work today.
It started off as a stupid joke, one of those things sororities want entering freshmen to do during rush week. All the older sisters in the house I was most interested in voted that all the new freshman pledges would have to try anal sex before the end of the semester. If we wanted to join up, we'd have to take it up -- up the ass, that is.
I rested my head in my hands as I stared up at the clock.
"3:48?" I muttered in disgust.
I was twelve minutes away from beginning my weekend, but it seemed as though time was grinding to a halt. I had finished with my last client an hour earlier and was simply waiting out the rest of my shift. I groaned again and looked out over the gym. To further my disappointment there were not even any half decent women to look at.
The soft patter of rain that began to pelt against the roof grabbed my attention, and I paused, setting my fiery-red lipstick back on the wooden vanity below me.
"Shit." I muttered to myself, disgruntled. The weather forecast hadn't called for rain earlier in the morning, so I'd decided on a costume with more involved makeup. I'd planned on arriving at the annual Crowley Halloween ball dressed as a sexy version of Harley Quinn, my favorite character.