Part 4: Meredith Medical Center Special Valentine's Edition

I'm posting a special Valentine's Day story, one section daily with the final part on February 14th. Today is the fourth installment. On February 14th I'll post the whole story with part 7 at the end.
This is a sensual M/F adventure--Enjoy! Comment daily! I'll give away a copy of my anthology Going For Gold on Valentine's Day!

Part 4:
Behind him, the shades clattered down. Tee appeared in his peripheral vision and perched on the left-hand corner of his desk.

His cock gave an excited throb, pushing against his zipper.

Tee lifted a stiletto-clad foot and pushed the chair out from the desk. She glanced at his lap and smiled. “A little uncomfortable?”

Jed’s face heated and he groaned. Busted. “A lot uncomfortable.”

A fingertip lifted his chin. “Would you like my medical opinion about what might help?”

A cold shower. Throwing her on the couch. Bending her over the desk. Another groan escaped.

“Let’s try this.” Tee leaned in and put her lips on his.

Soft, but warm. Felt nice. Very nice. He clasped her waist and eased her into his lap. She didn’t break the kiss, but her arms went around his neck. The pressure on his groin put him somewhere between ache and anguish. Hurt. So. Good.

Had to get relief. Was she going to follow through with this? All the way through? Or would this be yet another bad Valentine’s Day memory?

He licked at her lips, and she obliged, opening. A hot tongue met his. She tasted like dark chocolate and coffee and mint, a warm Valentine treat. He stroked her mouth, teasing and testing. Tee met him thrust for thrust and wriggled in his lap. Friction ran along his cock, building pressure.

Tee nipped his bottom lip, then leaned back. “What do you think? Is this therapy helping?”

“I think it’s worse,” he gasped.

“Let’s try a different remedy.”

~*~
Join me tomorrow for Part 5!
Want to start with part one? Click HERE.

BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. Years later, inventing characters and putting them through their paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee and a creating an adventure featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your need for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.
Contact Whitley: whitleygray33(at)yahoo(dot)com.

Part 3: Meredith Medical Center Special Valentine's Edition

I'm posting a special Valentine's Day story, one section daily with the final part on February 14th. Today is the third installment. On February 14th I'll post the whole story with part 7 at the end.
This is a sensual M/F adventure--Enjoy! Comment daily! I'll give away a copy of my anthology Going For Gold on Valentine's Day!

Part 3:
Tee gazed at him, hands in the pockets of her white coat. She looked… different. Wait a minute. Her hair was down, not twisted up and skewered with a stick. And lipstick. He let his gaze drop to the view below her knees.

No scrubs. Stilettos. Red as blood and twice as hot. Jed swallowed and dropped into his desk chair. She must have a hot date. Tee usually wore flats or athletic footwear.

“First question. Do you like my shoes?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

Tee unbuttoned her white coat, and pulled it off. A dress the color of claret, strapless and mid-thigh hemline. And it fit Tee like a latex glove. Tee had curves?

“How about the dress?”

“Nice. Very nice.” He shifted in his chair. His cock thought the dress was extraordinary. A good thing he was sitting behind his desk.

Tee stepped toward his desk and put her hands on the edge. Red nail polish. Must be an important date. Tee never wore polish.

“And the manicure?”

“Unexpected, but also nice.” Was she going to insist he comment on everything? She had to know she looked terrific. Looked good, smelled good. Wonder if she tasted good…. Get your mind out of her pants, Ritter.

“You think it’s the kind of look a man would appreciate?” She leaned over, propping her elbows on the glossy wood.

Cleavage. Jed bit back a groan.

“You don’t need me to tell you that.” He didn’t recognize the husky voice as his. Want tiptoed down his spine.

Tee straightened and sidled around the desk. He pulled his chair in. Were the shadows deep enough to cover the erection tenting his pants?

Join me 2/11/13 for Part 4!

Missed Part 1? Click HERE. Part 2? Click HERE.

~*~
BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. Years later, inventing characters and putting them through their paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee and a creating an adventure featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your need for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.

Part 2: Meredith Medical Center Special Valentine's Edition

Starting February 7th (yesterday), I'm posting a special Valentine's Day story, one section daily with the final part on February 14th. On that day I'll post the whole story with part 7 at the end.
This is a sensual M/F adventure--I hope you enjoy each day's words. Today is the second installment.

Part 2:
A woman in a white coat stood behind him, grinning in the mirror. “Hi, Jed. Thought I might find you here.”

Dr. Theodosia Krakowski, known as Tee Kay to her colleagues. To those who wished to keep their testicles, anyway.

Five foot three of dark-haired hazel-eyed firecracker. The only female physician in his department.

He grabbed a towel and scrubbed at his face. Thank God he hadn’t been relieving himself with the door open. “Hey, Tee. What’s up?”

“Had a few questions for you. I need some advice.”

Christ. And just when he thought he’d be out of here. He pivoted and brushed by her as he edged out of the bathroom. Tee smelled good. Really good. Probably had a hot date. “Uh, can it wait? I really need to get out of here.”

He dug in his desk drawer for his car keys. Where had the little suckers gone? He always put them—

“Nope. Can’t wait. Has to be tonight.”

He planted his hands on the desktop and hung his head. Don’t yell. It’s not her fault this is Valentine’s Day. “Okay. Shoot.”

He planted his hands on the desktop and hung his head. Don’t yell. It’s not her fault this is Valentine’s Day. “Okay. Shoot.”

“Have a seat, Jed.”

“That’s not a question. And why do I have to sit? How long is this going to take?”

“Not long.” She closed the office door and thumbed the lock.

Missed Part 1? click HERE.

Join me tomorrow for Part 3!

~*~
BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. Years later, inventing characters and putting them through their paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee and a creating an adventure featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your fix for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.

Meredith Medical Center Special Valentine's Edition: Part One

Over the next week, I'm posting a special Valentine's Day story, one section each day with the final section on February 14th, 2013.
This is a sensual M/F story--I hope you enjoy each installment. Here's the intro:

Meredith City is a major health care hub, located in the upper Midwest. With a large trauma center, doctors covet the training positions and put up with difficult schedules in exchange for the opportunity. Not all of the opportunities are purely medical…

PART 1:
Dr. Jed Ritter pinched the bridge of his nose. An endless day. Over.

He hoped. As soon as he got out of here and home to a beer or five and unconsciousness.

He unlocked the office and pushed the door open.

Red paper hearts festooned his secretary’s desk. Sitting among them, a clear plastic heart flashed “Be My Valentine” in red LED lights.

Jed blew out a breath and closed the office door. Another reminder of his least favorite day of the year.

In two strides, he crossed the office and grabbed the heart, slid the switch to “off.” He held it over the trashcan, then set it back on the desk. Not fair to Mary to throw it away. His secretary had gone out of her way to cheer him up.

An impossible feat.

Alison had insisted she and Jed marry on Valentine’s Day, saying he’d never forget their anniversary that way.

Five years later, she’d served him with divorce papers on Valentine’s Day. And now, here he was, on the third anniversary of his divorce, alone— on Valentine’s Day. Yep, he’d never forget anything related to this hideous holiday.

He stepped around the secretary’s desk to his office door. Chief of Cardiology, Dr. Jed Ritter, engraved in black on a gold rectangle. Beneath his nameplate, someone had taped a red envelope, addressed in white ink: To the head of the Heart Department.

He pulled it loose and shook his head. He should give Mary a raise. Had to be the most dedicated secretary in the building. He opened the flap and pulled out a card.

A heart, hand-rendered in fuchsia and tangerine, with a Band-Aid across the front. He ran a finger across the painting, then flipped to the inside. A hand-written message. Huh. Not his secretary’s precise script. More like a doctor’s handwriting.

Dear Dr. Ritter,
Today is the cardiologist’s own holiday, and as a heart specialist, your presence is requested at a private celebration.
The Queen of Hearts

What the hell? Who was the Queen of Hearts? And of all the men on the planet, why would she want to celebrate with him? He turned the card over. Nothing on the back.

The Queen had neglected to give him an address. Well, that clenched it. A great excuse for not showing up. Home to beer and bed. He opened his office door and tossed the card on his desk, then pulled off his white coat and hung it on the back of the door.

No pink message slips on his blotter. No cards. No hearts with flashing lights, thank God.

He turned toward the window. The medical office building across the street had left on lights to form the shape of a heart. Jed made a fist and smacked the window.

Damn it, everywhere he looked were reminders of this non-holiday. He wheeled around and marched into the lavatory. One of the perks of being chief: his own private bathroom. The hospital had even put in a shower for those nights he didn’t get home.

And the nights he didn’t go home, unwilling to face his lifeless bachelor apartment.

He cranked on the cold water and splashed his face, then looked up at his reflection.

He jumped.

Join me tomorrow for Part 2!

~*~
BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. Years later, inventing characters and putting them through their paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee and a creating an adventure featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your fix for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.

The Importance of an Opening Line

We all know the importance of the first three paragraphs to an agent, an editor, and a reader—hook ‘em right away, keep ‘em hooked. Excellent advice, to be sure. But what about the opening line? If all you could present was the opening sentence of your work in progress, would one of these three important people want to keep reading?

Let’s take a classic example.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
--C. Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Interesting. “When?” we ask. “Why?” and “Where?” Always good to engender questions—it makes the reader want to continue, want to discover the answers.

Now a contemporary example:

“About last night,” I began awkwardly.
--J. Lanyon, Perfect Day

“Ooo,” you say. “What about last night? Sounds juicy.” And on you go, seeking the answer.

One more—from a modern day thriller:

When the first man woke up that morning, he wasn’t thinking about killing anyone.
--J. Sandford, Easy Prey

Yep, I’m going to keep reading.

But you can take it to ridiculous extremes. The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest seeks out “the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels.” The contest is named after Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is I London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
--E.G. Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford

Certainly as purple as prose can get. Interest drowned in verbosity after the em dash.

What’s your opening line? Does it make the reader want to journey on, keep reading? Can it be stronger?
If you like, leave your opening line in the comments section.

~*~
BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. Years later, inventing characters and putting them through their paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee and a creating an adventure featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your fix for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.

Sex and the Single Teenager

Recently, I had a conversation about how “far” can you go in a GBLTQ young adult romance. I’ve beta-read young adult, but I write about adults for adults—this is unchartered territory for me. Can you have open-mouthed kisses, touching with naming of acts and parts? What if both characters are under age eighteen (read: legal consent)?

It’s a bit grey out there folks, and I don’t mean Shades of.

Middle grade fiction is pretty cut and dried in this area. New Adult books (kids 18-25—out of the parent’s house and on their own) can test the limits, just like adults only books. It’s the 14-18 year-old group giving us fits. Here’s my take:

Since both characters need to be under eighteen, I'd prefer them both at least sixteen--fifteen is too close to childhood to me, and at that age, a year can make an enormous difference in maturity. In some states, you can marry at sixteen, and that seems to be more comfortable.

With regard to the sex—shouldn’t have anything explicit. To me, "explicit" means graphic descriptions of the acts and naming of parts. The bedroom door is nearly "closed."

Is it okay to have the characters nervously shed their clothes and retreat to the comfort of the bed, burning with an unfamiliar need? Can one of them say, "Have you ever...done anything with another guy?"

There are YA books out there that push the envelope right past New Adult into eighteen-and-over audiences. To me, these are adult books that happen to be about teenaged characters.

Where would you draw the line?
~*~
BIO:
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. At some point, real life intervened, bringing with it responsibilities and a career in the medical field. After years of technical writing, Whitley became enamored of romance and took on the challenge of giving it a try. Inventing characters and putting them through paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way, Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee, quiet, and a storyline featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your fix for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.

Split Personality: Writing Under More Than One Author Name

I’ve seen this come up in discussion time and again. Write under my real name? A pen name? More than one name? And will it help or hurt my marketing efforts?

There’s more than one way to skin this cat (no offense to feline lovers).

First, consider the reason you want to write under a pen name. Do you want privacy from fans? Is the material not something you’d like your eighty-year-old grandmother to investigate? Would writing under your own name endanger your job? Do you have a business in your name, like Mabel Blime’s Plumbing? You may not want to use Mabel Blime, even if it is your own name. Is your name hard to pronounce or spell? Is it too common (Mary Brown, for example. There are over a million of these in the U.S. Census)? Do you have the same name as an already-famous author? This may sound like a huge advantage, but it isn’t—people get annoyed, believe it or not. If the answer to any of these is yes, you may want to consider a pen name.

Second, consider why you might want a second writer name (either a second pen name, or a pen name). Are you planning to write something very different from your first writer name’s genre? For example, are you jumping from erotic romance to Middle Grade? Is your original author name something too suggestive for writing a different genre? Some erotica authors use names that are very suggestive of what kind of books they may write. Are you going to be writing with a co-author? You may want to consider a melding of your two names. If the answer to any of these is yes, you may want to consider a pen name.

And now, a few reasons why you might NOT want to write under a pen name. Do you want to maintain two separate personas, including separate fan emails, Facebook sites, Twitter accounts? Are you organized enough to not cross-post by accident? Do you want to pay a web designer, publicist, and/or promoter to get the stuff in place you for a publishing platform? Do you plan to write more than one genre? If the answer to these questions is “no,” you may not need a second writer name.

In the end, it’s a personal decision. It’s more work, but it can also save you heartache if you choose to go avante garde in your choice of material, or want to write a variety of genres.

Questions? Comments?
~*~
Once upon a misspent youth, Whitley read and wrote stories under the covers at night. At some point, real life intervened, bringing with it responsibilities and a career in the medical field. After years of technical writing, Whitley became enamored of romance and took on the challenge of giving it a try. Inventing characters and putting them through paces in interesting ways turned out to be addictive, and along the way, Whitley discovered that two heroes is twice as nice. A pot of coffee, quiet, and a storyline featuring a couple of guys makes for a perfect day. Stop by www.whitleygray.com and feed your fix for heat between the sheets with erotica and M/M romance.