With only 25 days till #HotinAruba drops, I’m going to share my pick to play Carlos. Meet Spanish model Amadeo Leandro. I’m not even sure if this beautiful man acts, but um, well, he’s certainly sexy! Carlos as a character is charming, giving, and totally selfless. He cares deeply for Samantha. Having been relegated to the friend zone for years, he’s ready to prove his mettle as boyfriend material. He sings sensuously as he plays the guitar, and when you imagine his hips moving while he dances… well, let’s just say I hope you enjoy meeting Carlos.
There are only 26 days till #HotinAruba drops! It’s always fun to imagine who I’d like to play main characters. For Samantha, our main protagonist, she would need to be strong and gutsy… someone who doesn’t take bullshit from anyone. Someone sensible, not prone to fits of hysteria or fantasy. She would need to be down to earth and, of course, incredibly sexy. I think Katheryn Winnick would do the job very nicely.
I’m thrilled to share the tantalizing trailer for Hot in Aruba!
So sexy. ;D
After that sexy musings blurb (see previous post) I decided to keep writing to see where it took me. The result was a prologue. I have no idea if it will stay a prologue, or if I will cut it, dissect it and mine it for gems, relocate it, or scrap it all together. Such is the uncertainty of first drafts, but I do like it. 😀 So, here for your edification, I give you the prologue to Opening Pandora a new creative vision. <3
I shouldn’t be here. I leaned my head against the steering wheel and closed my eyes, fisting the warm leather, knowing even as I thought it, even as I hesitated, there was no turning back. At any point during the drive, I could have turned around, but I kept going, sight fixed on the road ahead, the specters of doubt and recrimination chasing me like street racers. But they’d lost. I’d made it. Pandora’s box parked hidden within a concrete jungle of normalcy and mediocrity.
I scanned the sea of humanity, focused on staying invisible while I lifted my ass off the leather seat and slid my hands underneath my skirt. Two fingers hooked around the band of my thong, and I slid the fabric down my legs, the cool flush of exposure trailing in its wake. Part of the lace caught on the stiletto of my shoe, and I struggled to set it free, desperate to avoid drawing attention to myself. Just a random person in a car. No need to look. Nothing untoward or salacious here.
I fisted the panties and stuffed them in my purse, heart pounding. All I had to do now was open the door and step out. I gauged the distance from the parking lot to the mall entrance. Maybe twenty-five feet separated them, yet it seemed like a chasm hundreds of yards wide, each crack and chip in the pavement defined by the brilliance of a million spotlights, their beams focused, waiting.
I gripped the door handle, and a band of gold caught the sunlight. Stomach tight,. I glanced over my shoulder and slipped the ring off my finger, dropping it in the drink holder of the console. It fell without a sound. The receipt from my son’s new soccer cleats stuffed in the plastic cavern muffled the finality. I covered it all with a take-out napkin and opened the door.
Heat rose in waves off hoods and roofs, echoing the wobble of shaking legs as I stood, back to the metal. A cool breeze played with the hem of my dress, and I tugged it lower, a disconcerting dampness spreading between my legs. I craved the security a tiny strip of cotton could provide, but my instructions had been to come without underwear. I swallowed the urge to slink back into the car.
I didn’t have time for a pep talk. Those days had long past. I needed to open the box and let the world deal with the consequences. I was beyond saving. I glanced at the glass doors, watching shoppers mill in and out, oblivious to the turmoil around them.
I found a steadying breath and pushed off, taking my first tentative, tenuous step toward the man who wanted to fuck me.