Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Teaser Tuesday: 1st Page of my #NaNoWriMo Project!

As promised, here's a tiny excerpt from my NaNoWriMo draft. It's currently titled MILANO, but I suspect that will change. The book spans three different countries and has taken more research than any book I've ever written. Anyway, here's just a little bit of the opening, about a page and a half. Keep in mind I haven't edited it yet and this is only a first draft. Let me know what you think!

CHAPTER ONE

It should be illegal for girls over five-seven to wear heels. And I’m not saying that because I’m jealous. Believe me. It’s just that when you’re five-two and not a lesbian, there are better ways to spend your day than staring at forty-eight female breasts.

    And to be honest, they all look the same from this angle.

    But then, I guess that’s the point, isn’t it? To look like a herd of perfect, beautiful, tall bodies. That’s why people will come to this fashion show. To see beautiful bodies in beautiful clothing. That’s why it will pay my way to Spain.

    The actual show isn’t for two weeks. Labor Day Weekend, right before school starts up. It’s billed as a back-to-school event, but looking over the rack of outfits the stores are supplying, I’m sure our crowd will be made up of mainly skanky over-forty women and leery-eyed men.

    “Can these hemlines get any higher?” my best friend Tristan asks, spinning in front of the mirror to see if her underwear shows. If she’s wearing any, that is. If there are two things I’ve learned about models in the last six weeks they’re these:

1.    Models are not shy about their bodies. By not shy, I mean they’d walk through the mall in their own bra, or even without it, if it meant getting to the stage on time.

2.    If models wear any underwear at all, it’s usually thinner than the dental floss in my bathroom cabinet.

“Any cheek, Jamie?” she asks me. Tristan is the one and only model I’ve ever met who cares at least a little bit about how much of her goods she’s showing. But she’s still ruled by the dental-floss underwear rule.

“Yeah, there’s cheek,” I tell her with a smirk. “But not under the dress.”

If Tristan’s one thing, it’s cheeky. She’s also smart, funny, beautiful, popular, and fiercely loyal. To me. Which means I’m fiercely loyal right back.

She smirks, because along with being loyal, we can both take a joke.

4 comments:

  1. Great beginning, Denise! I'd keep reading. :)

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  2. You've reminded me of a girl I graduated with who left that summer to become a model in Milan. Never heard what happened. . .

    Congrats on an enticing opening.

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  3. thanks so much, ladies!

    Ang - you should look her up on Facebook!

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