Accidental Playboy
Caught in the Ultimate Male Fantasy
Excerpt
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
The call, when it comes, is nothing more than an amusing bright blip in the dark
tempest of my depression. The phone rings and, as is only natural under the
circumstances, I'm terrified. What if it's someone I owe money to? Or worse,
someone with whom I have an emotional tie? I'm a writer, in the midst of writing
what I darkly tell everyone is a bestseller, and understandably I'm averse to
distraction.
Ah, the gay, romantic pleasures of the writing life-a succession of perfectly
turned epigrams dashed off on Odeon cocktail napkins while some working girl
whom Hemingway has sent over purrs dirty French limericks into my ear. So good,
it's almost cliché!
The reality is, it's seven at night. I'm washing a sinkful of dishes, dressed
only in my musty old bathrobe. The bestseller is, after nearly a full calendar
year. . . well, it's not done. As far as quantity of writing, I've long
since written the length of a novel. Who knew I'd keep writing the first several
chapters over and over and over? I didn't ... read full excerpt from: Accidental Playboy ebook
