Monday, July 22, 2013
An unedited draft of a first meet because I'm actually (who knew) writing
By Karina Bliss
I'm writing a new book and remembered I'm posting a blog, oh about five minutes ago. So let me share the first meet with you, unedited. My hero is rockstar Zander Freedman, older brother of Devin Freedman, hero of What The Librarian Did. He's looking for a reputable biographer and wants Dr Elizabeth Winston, PhD who has politely agreed to meet with him prior to a rock concert. Having researched his reputation she has no intention of accepting the job.
"The back end of the stadium was a rabbit warren of long echoing corridors, punctuated by big men lounging against the wall. Security, Elizabeth guessed. Everyone else they passed scurried, intent on some backstage task.
Dimity opened a door. “In here.”
Half-expecting a throne room, Elizabeth was disappointed. Though large, the room she stepped into was like any other changing room in a stadium. Breeze block walls, painted white and scuff-marked. An overstuffed sofa squatted in the middle of the space next to a coffee table holding a lamp, empty plastic water bottles and mugs. The aircon was switched off and the air was as heavy and damp as a warm washcloth. Her nose picked up ginger and honey herbal tea with an overbite of hairspray.
On the far side of the room large bulbs blazed around a mirror on a table covered with beauty products, silhouetting the man - naked from the waist up - sitting in front of it, knees splayed and and hands resting on jean-clad thighs.
A brunette with delicate features dressed in a black muscle tee and denim cut-offs wielded a blow dryer over dancing blonde strands that gleamed like polished silk. “I wonder what shampoo he uses,” was Elizabeth’s first thought. Her gaze dropped to the tattooed chest reflected in the mirror.
Outstretched angel wings followed the sweep of his collar bone, the tips disappearing over his shoulder, while the lower feathers covering taut upper pecs. The wings weren’t joined, dividing neatly either side of his breastbone. As they drew closer, Elizabeth saw the feathers were tiny strands of barbed wire.
“She got caught in traffic,” Dimity called over the dryer, “Have you time for this now or would you prefer to wait until after the show?”
A nipple ring glinted as he waved the hairdresser away and swung in his chair. Stood up. Now the lights were a halo around his body, making his tanned shoulders gleam. He smiled.
Elizabeth considered herself an intelligent person. When she’d started school she’d already been reading six months; she had a BA, MA and a PhD in history. Her house was full of books and even the washroom had pithy sayings framed on its walls for the edification of anyone sitting on the loo.
And yet she hadn’t factored charisma into Zander Freedman.
Theoretically she understood he had to have something about him to explain why people didn’t simply tell him to take a running jump when he behaved like a douche.
Intellectually she appreciated he was ‘hot’ having been listed - twice - in People magazine’s Fifty Most Beautiful People In The World, and once as World’s Sexiest Rock Star. To her mind it was superficial and meaningless drivel, even when conscientiously allowing for her self-protective bias as a lanky ‘Ginga.’
But his smile of welcome was so dazzling she nearly flung up a hand to deflect it.
Yes, there was arrogance and ego, and a whole lot of unconscious entitlement but his charisma was like a sonic boom breaking the sound barrier. Sex appeal emanated like a force field that practically bounced off her ovaries.
“Dr Elizabeth Winston.”
His tone had the same combination of gravel, sex and sweetness that characterized his singing voice. Sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. He could probably drawl a shopping list and make it seductive. ‘Mayon…naise,’ ‘ba…na…na. ‘ She struggled for a sense of proportion. Maybe not ‘onion’."
What do you need in a first meet? All tips welcome!