All First Chapter Samples

Joseph,

I’m going to have to admit that I’ve started this email several times with everything from To Whom It May Concern to Dear Joseph, and it’s just gotten more graceless from there. First introductions should always be done in person so chemistry can, hopefully, override awkwardness. But since that isn’t the case here and Conner is insisting that I email you (because he couldn’t find a smoother Daddy at the moment?), I’ve given up figuring out how to start this without it sounding inelegant or overly professional.

My goal from here on out is overly professional in case you’re wondering.

“Sweetheart, I need to sell you.” My mother’s insipidly sweet tone had me looking up from my menu. I hated the restaurant and we’d been here a thousand times over the years, but studying it was better than making small talk.

“Excuse me?” It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d ever told me over lunch, but I had a feeling it would end up being in the top ten at the very least.

Her smile just went sweeter and she reached over the table and patted my arm. “It’s for charity.”

That didn’t make it any less weird.

“What kind of charity?” Getting that information seemed like a good place to start.

“The LGBT Educational Center.” When she paused and smiled, I just blinked. That earned me a sigh and she pretended to be disappointed in me. “Many young LGBT youth don’t get the same opportunities that you did, sweetheart. It’s our responsibility to help those that are less fortunate.”

I knew better than to fall for this polite line of shit.

She’d never cared one way or the other about who I slept with as long as they were from the right family. This we have to be charitable to the LGBT community bullshit only started when my cousin came out as pan and that’d been a lot trendier than just general run of the mill wants to sleep with dudes gay.

So now she and Aunt Maggie were in some kind of weird competition that seemed to involve me.

Yay.

“Yes, you and Dad went to a lot of trouble to make sure I got the degrees you wanted.” Two could play the polite asshole game.

Could someone die of boredom?

The fact that I’d have preferred to have been home writing the blurb for my latest book rather than hanging out at the party said something about my lack of enthusiasm. Unfortunately, only Jonah would have understood how frustrating it was to boil an entire book down to two paragraphs of teasing, so there was no point in making the comparison.

That just left glaring at anyone who tried to talk to me and hiding from anyone who tried to flirt with me…which was a surprising number of people in the crowded room, considering how downright unfriendly I was attempting to be.

Maybe asshole was the new “in” personality this season.

Oh, that would be good in a book.

Scrambling to pat my pockets, I quickly remembered Austin had stolen my notebook and pen. He had the crazy idea that if I couldn’t work, then I’d have to talk to everyone. It was ridiculous. I could ignore them without a pen and paper. I had a great imagination.

„Gestern hat er mich gefragt, ob ich denke, dass er das Haus babysicher machen muss, um die Erfahrung realistischer zu machen.“ Ich mochte Blake … verdammt, ich mochte den dummen Mann vielleicht sogar so sehr, dass ich ihn lieben könnte, aber das …

Wes schnaubte, legte sich zurück und streckte sich auf dem Teppich vor der Couch aus. „Hat er einen Scherz gemacht … war er sarkastisch oder so?“

„Nein.“ Ich seufzte. „Das ist das Verwirrende daran. Er hat es ernst gemeint.“ Und ehrlich, ich dachte, ich hätte ihm gut genug erklärt, worauf ich stehe, damit er es versteht, aber nach einigen seiner Kommentare war ich mir da nicht mehr so sicher.

Wes rollte mit den Augen. „Er weiß doch, dass es nicht wie Magie ist, bei der du dich in ein seltsames außerirdisches Kleinkind verwandelst, oder?“

Hoffentlich.

„Er ist sehr wörtlich.“ Und irgendwie spießig.

“Dear Fairy Godstalker.” No. “Dear Fairy Godhacker?” Was that any better? Were they supposed to be two words or one? “Okay, there has to be a cute way to address this letter.” I’d started out with Sir and had deleted that so fast my Word doc had glitched. “One that doesn’t make him sound fictional or like I’m using some kind of derogatory slang.” I was pretty sure my hacker-stalker/behind-the-scenes friend was male and gay but that was mostly instinct and good gaydar. My ability to detect deadbeat assholes was horrendous, but my gaydar was on point and could pick out a closeted guy a mile away. Unfortunately, the combination had led me into a variety of terrible dates and […]

Starting over sucked. Starting over because of a man was even worse. Moving clear across country to get away from the rumors and financial ruin made it almost unbearable. Having to hide the anger and the frustration was the hardest part. And I wasn’t even sure I was doing a very good job of it.

Otherwise, I would have had the damned job by that point.

“I think it’s going to be interesting.” That translated to boring and monotonous in my head. I was hoping the owner of Leashes and Lace didn’t hear it, though. Catalog photos, fuck. It wouldn’t matter if they were guys in lingerie. It was still boring.

Preston was nodding, but the way he was analyzing me put me on edge. I needed the damned job, but he wasn’t giving me enough to work with to know if I was saying the right shit or not. Any monkey could have taken the photos.