Super excited to have the first excerpt in our series of (as yet) unpublished chick lit writers! Please do read, comment, review, critique the piece and get some discussion going!
Valentines Day Virgin by Cesca Martin
About the Book
'Valentines Day Virgin' is about an uptight girl who takes on a bet that changes her life. On discovering she has never had a date on Valentines Day her workmate challenges her to do ANYTHING she can do to secure a man for February 14th. The heroine, Nicola takes the bet and treats it like any assignment she is given i.e. very seriously. She throws her all into the task. After blind dates, speed dates, internet dates things get even more chaotic. Carpentry classes, fortune tellers, dog theft, make-overs, singles holiday - there is nothing Nicola won't try. And by learning more about the cut throat world of dating, Nicole learns more about herself. Valentines Day Virgin I’m currently standing squashed up against two men. Normally perhaps you might think this is a pretty positive, perhaps even exciting, position to be in. It is not. I am sweating (not in a sexy way), I’m in a queue, I’m in an airport and I don’t know the men. I have also come to the recent conclusion that they are in fact together. In the civil partnership sense of the word. I can’t ask them however because I am quite literally jammed between them, a bag under my arm, suitcase by my side, and face crushed uncomfortably close to the leather jacket of Man #1 whilst Man #2 eyes me suspiciously. I give him an awkward, helpless sort of grimace which is meant to convey that a) I am as unhappy in this situation as he is and b) I am not threatening to steal his gay lover at any time in the near future. His eyes narrow and I try to widen mine into an even more innocent look that is meant to convey that I am not THAT kind of woman. I’m the non-threatening type me. Now we just look like we are competing in an airport blinking contest and I drop my gaze and start blushing deeply instead.
Continue Reading and Find Out More About Cesca!
The reason I am crushed uncomfortably against a perfect stranger soon squeezes past me, all 32 stone of him, to join what I can only imagine are his family because between them the group must weigh in at around the average of a Blue Whale. Which, even though I’ve never seen one, is a lot. I suck in my stomach and half-heartedly lug the suitcase another two inches to the left and then he is through and Man #1, Man #2 and I resume a more acceptable distance for strangers. Man #2 eases up with the eyeing up and a moment later takes a very deliberate step forward and links arms with Man #1. I feel even more forlorn. I hug my bag a little closer to my chest. Seconds later, when they throw their heads back in mutual mirth, I sink a little lower.
Around me couples are holding hands, giggling to one another. Children are looking excitedly up around at the Departures Desk, one mother is mopping up her baby. One daddy is holding tightly onto his youngest as his eldest tries to clamber on to his back. It seems everyone is in a unit. Everyone around me has someone. I search quickly for another lone passenger and quickly give up. I glance at the Departures board and gulp as I read the destination. What am I doing? Why am I here? Why am I going to this destination? Why am I alone? How did things go this wrong? And as I stand and look and ponder I go back in time, back to when life was normal, when being alone didn’t bother me, when life was safe, when life was less confusing, exhausting, gruelling… Or, in other words, back to three months ago…
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Single, white, female, 29, GSOH, N/S. WLTM nice man for friendship, maybe more.
Contact: Box No 235
There are people that leave the house without setting the alarm. They wave people over in restaurants not noticing if other diners are disturbed. They have noisy sex in hotel rooms and don’t care who hears them. They forget where they’ve put their car keys and then laugh when they discover they’ve locked them in the car. These people decide to go on holiday that week and book a last minute flight, sometimes letting the travel agent choose the destination! These people decide on a whim that they need a new car/laptop/outfit and just go out and get it that minute. These people don’t pay their bills on time. They wear odd socks and mis-matched underwear. They close their eyes and sway to music. They walk bare foot on grass. They kick up spray splashing through puddles. They swear and beep their horn at another car. These people don’t notice when people are cross with them. These people forget birthdays but buy extravagant belated presents to say sorry. They stop and talk to strangers just because they want to be friendly.
I am nothing like them.
I’m more restrained. When I’m frustrated it’s like my mind is a kettle that’s just boiled. Steam being let off but not out, so I feel clouded with the feeling. I know that when people are looking at me I’ve done something stupid, or wrong. I worry about deadlines. I know if I don’t pay the bill that I’ll pay more. I know that if I park on double yellow lines I’ll get a ticket. If I speed I might lose my license. If I walk bare foot and its cold I’ll probably get ill. I do curse when people cut in front of me in a queue. But not out loud, just in my head. I’m cautious. I’m nervy. I fret, I obsess. I’m clean, I’m neat, I’m ordered. I fear when things are done sporadically, or without thought. I’m scared that if I stop juggling balls I’ll drop everything. I’m wound tight.
I’m one of those kind of people.
I’ll give you an example. And this is in no way unusual as I’m living this moment right now. I’m sitting in our office and I’ve just screwed up the piece of paper I was writing on. I aim it at the bin. It leaves my hand, it sails through the air. Then the problem begins. It hits the lip of the bin and it falls to the carpet where it rests. It lies there. I look down at my work and then back at the piece of paper. I try and concentrate on my work but I can’t. I can sense its presence. I try to shrug off the feeling but it’s looking at me accusingly. “Messy, messy, messy” it seems to be chanting if it could. I sit in a strained silence, the only noise coming from the persistent tap of my biro as I drum it against the page. If I cared less I might have left it. I might have not even thought about it. But it irked me. My thoughts on the actor we were representing were forgotten. The only thought was that bunched up piece of paper lying on the carpet, out of its place, messing up the order of the office. I could see Caroline sitting across the way at her desk surrounded by sweet wrappers, invoices, brochures and photographs She hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. Of course she hadn’t. The actors’ CV was swimming before my eyes. With a sigh I got up, pushed my chair out and put the piece of paper in the bin. I could have left it if I’d wanted, I just felt like stretching my legs and... oh, who am I kidding?
I’m that person. As you can deduce - it’s exhausting being me.
About Cesca
"This is my second chick lit novel. The first 'Agony Angel' can be found at www.agonyangel.info. It went pretty well. Even people I didn't know read it and told me that. Do check it out. In between writing books I teach History at a secondary school in Berkshire. Something must have rubbed off because I'm currently writing a book set in the Second World War in France which has been incredibly fun to research but pretty harrowing. In between the teaching and the writing and the researching and the stressing I can either be found with a paintbrush in hand, with a whistle in my mouth (I coach lacrosse) or a golf club thrown on the ground in a rage beside me. I hope to write lots more novels in the future and get an agent, and a publisher, and secure a book deal and enjoy success and critical acclaim and a fan club and... "
To Visit Cesca's website click here. If you would like to get in touch with Cesca email me at kirsty@novelicious.com and I will pass on the message!
