For this week’s author spotlight on our TTC VBT, Anjie Harrte is featuring her WIP, An Unexpected Desire. At the moment the novel is going through the first set of edits which she hopes to finish by the end of September.
O.o.o.o.O.o.o.o. O.o.o.o.O.o.o.o O.o.o.o.O.o.o.o O.o.o.o.O.o.o.o O.o.o.o.O.o.o.o
An Unexpected Desire
Fiona is a thirty four year old woman whose life is filled with uneventful boredom. Her coworkers refer to her as the ice queen and she agrees with them. She finds nothing fulfilling in her job or her life but she plods on.
Nyasha is a fiery spirit and an outgoing ambitious woman with her eye on top of the world. She is somewhat of a womanizer and there is a dark secret in her past that made her this way.
Then one day the two women catapult into each other. The sparks are flying; the stars are glistening and; the hairs are raising but still they deny their feelings for each other and fight it off as best as they could. Fiona believes she is straight so these feelings mean nothing, Nyasha remembers the last time she fell for a straight woman and how it destroyed her so she is trying to keep her distance. But what happens when their desires rise, their blood boils, and the fire between them erupts into a massive flame?
Can they continue to fight this attraction? Can they lie to themselves about how they feel? Can Nyasha let go of the past and accept Fiona? Is Fiona straight or has she always been this way and refused to admit it? Both of them are faced with many questions as this unexpected desire for each other rages on.
Nyasha threw the sheet off of her naked body and sat up throwing her legs off of the bed. Fingers traced her spine as she closed her eyes. Warm hands slid over her shoulders and cupped her breasts; a finger teasing her nipple getting it hard. Soft lips pressed against her neck as hot breath permeated her skin. "Come back to bed," the sultry voice whispered in her ear. She closed her eyes and allowed the hands to lower her back on the soft ruffled sheets, as the supple lips were pressed against hers. Soon fingers rubbed at her love spot as she moved her body smoothly against it. Her head moved from side to side as the fingers pried inside of her; moving back and forth in unison with her hips. A symphony played somewhere to which her body moved; crashing in tune with the banging of the cymbals. Enveloped by sweetness that flowed through her being, her muscles contracted and the nectar of her lust flowed as Nyasha uttered a name. It flowed off her tongue so smoothly, so natural, that she didn't realize until she opened her eyes that it wasn't tonight's lover's name that she had uttered.
Nyasha pushed past Shelly and hurried into the bathroom closing the door behind her. She heard as Shelly went hysterical cussing and screaming and banging down the door. She breathe deeply and threw her head against the door. Never had she made this mistake before. How many lovers had she had? How many have she juggled at a time and never have she called one by the other's name and now this, she has never even slept with Fiona, then why was she uttering her name? A loud bang was heard as something was thrown against the door. Nyasha moved from the door and watched at it as though it would leap out at her. Just a while ago this woman was so composed and loving, just minutes ago this apartment was filled with the music of love making; skin against skin, tongues dancing, essence flowing, hearts beating, lips making trails on bodies and voices echoing the pleasure that bodies felt, and now one woman screamed, yelled and cried on one side of a door as the other wondered if she could escape through the bathroom wrapped in the shower curtain.
If there was one thing Nyasha believed in was that the saying; ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ was a true thing. Wrapping a towel around her nakedness she prepared herself for the worse. What was the worst that could happen? She flung the door open and stepped out, the room was quiet and there was no sign of Shelly. The room was upturned, the small night stand was on its side, a jewellery box was lying on the floor broken, its contents scatterred; this had to be the object thrown at the door. The sheets was yanked off the bed and ruffled together in a bunch on the ground, all the contents of the vanity were scattered about. A once well kept, neat little room looked as though a tornado had passed through. Nyasha grabbed up her clothes quickly pushing her legs into her dress pants and pulling on her blouse over her head. As soon as the blouse cleared her head her body jolted, startled by the angry eyes that was inches away from her. “Who the hell is Fiona?” Shelly demanded.
Anjie Harrte: Romance with some Caribbean flavour
Anjie Harrte is a twenty nine year old mother of one who resides in sunny Guyana, South America. Sometime between running a small business, having a full time job and being a mother and partner she finds time to pursue her passion for creating stories. Anjie dreams up stories of contemporary fiction splashed with some romance, a little dose of murder or an ounce of suspense and sometimes when no one is looking she dashes in a little twist. When she isn’t doing any of that, she is decorating a cake, knitting a chair back or sewing her latest design. Anjie even finds time to lurk around and stalk people and pages on facebook and you too can stalk her if you like at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anjie-Harrte/ or you can follow her on twitter @anjieharrte or keep updated with her writing at http://authoranjieharrte.blogspot.com/
Thanks for stopping by Anjie!
If you'd like to leave comments below about Anjie's WIP (or anything Anjie) feel free, we will both be checking.