Yvette Richardson needs some time away after her divorce. Even after extensive research on the Internet, she still can't decide between Mexico or Puerto Rico. Mysterious mail sent from a travel agency she's never heard of helps her decide, but will she meet the tight-abbed hunk on the front of the postcard, as promised? (The Postcard)
Dear Agent X,
I am seeking representation for my novel, The Postcard, a 70,000 word love story, with elements of mystery.
Yvette Richardson needs to get out of town after the trauma of her divorce. She’s been searching the Internet, looking for a faraway place to find some sand, some heat, and maybe somebody to help her move on from the loss of her husband the editor’s love.
A few weeks into her search, Yvette receives mail from a travel agency, with brochures from the One and Only Magical Resort in Cabo. As she pages through the brochure, a postcard wedged in the back pages falls to the floor. Yvette picks it up, and finds herself staring at a tight-abbed young hunk’s picture. Turning the card over, she finds a handwritten note on the back: “I can hardly wait to feel your tender, long fingers on my tight, toned abs, Yvette, my sweet.” The card is signed: The Troll.
Yvette books her flight and makes her hotel reservations, too titillated by thoughts of The Troll to wonder why she received the card and how he came by her name.
The Troll meets Yvette at the airport in Cabo. Or she thinks it’s him, anyway. He has a shirt on, so she’s not sure, but she’s about to find the answer to that, and to many other mysteries.
Please let me know if you would be interested in reading The Postcard. I have included a SASE.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Robin S.
Why you don't get published.
Hm Robin. Your husband the editor, eh? Did you win that particular, um, contest? Or maybe you lost it since he's left you?
ReplyDeleteGood one! Though she does sound like a bit of an idiot.
I can't believe a tight-abbed-hunk story came your way by random chance. Just what did you enter for your search criteria, hmmm? And,what's with showing such proper restraint in telling rather than showing that she’s about to find the answer to that, and to many other mysteries. I was really in need of some Robin goodness there ;o)
ReplyDeleteThis Troll guy ... any relation to blogless?
Yeah, phoenix, I know what you mean, honey. I guess, after being summarily dumped by Editor Boy earlier this week, it was simply kismet. Or kismetic. Or something like that.
ReplyDeleteYou know, here's the thing. I'm wordy. I had this whole scene splayed out, I mean played out, this key scene where The Troll and Yvette danced naked around a campfire on the beach in front of The One and Only - and lots of good stuff, in a manner of speaking, was hanging in the balance. (At least from The Troll's perpective it certainly was.)
Just didn't have the room, baby. Didn't have the room. And then there was the ball party that needed attending, so I had to hurry and send the (former) love of my life his freakin' query.
Yep, Sarah. I lost it. And I'm so forlorn. I mean, what man wouldn't go for fucking polygamy?
I popped a picture on here for EE. And did I hear a cowabunga? Uh. No, I did not.
And yeah. It's blogless. He's my new squeeze.
ReplyDeleteOops, I clicked on no instead of yes, so the pictures didn't show up. Monongahela!
ReplyDeleteMy word, Robin. You really must write this one. I'm laughing my ass off over here.
ReplyDeleteMonongahela indeed.
ReplyDeleteSo. Well then. I'm ready to make up if you are.
Hmm. Have you got a shot in that dress you had on last night?
ReplyDeleteEE's comparing you to a river?
ReplyDeleteMo-non-ga-he-la: a river flowing from N West Virginia through SW Pennsylvania into the Ohio River. 128 mi. (205 km) long
Or is this the new "cowabunga"? I really must get out more.
Hey, rivers are beautiful. And always wet.
ReplyDeleteNo- but I've got a shot in a bikini. Would that do it for you?
ReplyDeleteHey, wait a minute, are you sayin' makin' up depends on this picture?
Well, then...
Hey phoenix- I'm good with Monongahela - it has one more syllable than cowabunga, AND it's longa and flowing. Of course, it;s also filthy dirty where it runs into Pittsburgh. Hey, wait a minute.
Oh- just saw the beautiful and wet part.
ReplyDeleteOK. Monongahela it is, baby.
Yes.
ReplyDeleteOf course not.
Um. Do you guys need a room. Like, you know, for privacy.
ReplyDelete;-)
It could happen.
ReplyDeleteSorry I'm late. I was doing crunches and watching basketball. Did I miss anything?
ReplyDeleteYes, your window of opportunity.
ReplyDeleteAt least Blogless had a window of opportunity.
ReplyDeleteHi blogless...
ReplyDeleteSo...doing some crunches, huh?
Is it just me, or does anybody else 'hear' EE's very deep voice?
ReplyDeleteI almost spewed Diet Coke on the "and wet" comment. Holy crap...
ReplyDeleteC'mere, PJD. EE's too damn fickle for me.
Are you there and just not posting my comments all of the sudden?
ReplyDelete(huge, Botox-worthy frowning...)
Sounds like blogless is working on being your Troll. Maybe he'll create a new window.
ReplyDeleteOh yeah, Sarah. I hear that deep, deep, masculine voice. I know exactly what you mean.
ReplyDeleteHaven't heard much from The Troll.
We'll see..
Maybe his ab work has kept him, you know, otherwise occupied.
Well, I am still making my way down this fab list of future #1 bestsellers, but I just had to stop in (24 comments) and I see there's some very strange developments here. I too, was stymied by the word limi,Robin. BTW I thought this quite compelling and I WOULD READ MORE!
ReplyDeletePS Hope the Troll thing works out -- Editors often marginalize their relationships, you know.
Maybe his ab work has kept him, you know, otherwise occupied.
ReplyDeleteAb work? Oh, did I say doing crunches? I meant eating crunches. Nestle Crunches.
oh, blogless. You're breakin' my heart, there.
ReplyDeleteOMG!! Robin, did you *really* get this GTP at random?! LOL!!!!
ReplyDeleteI having trouble keeping up with the matchmaking. EE, we need a chart...
I swear to you, Church. Got it randomly, using the EE system. First time.
ReplyDeleteCouldn't believe my luck.