The Bachelorette Party by Tami Anthony - Spotlight, Excerpt, Guestpost & Giveaway

Synopsis: When an unfortunate twist of fate leaves 28 year-old socialite Leslee Robinson broken-hearted and unemployed, she embarks on a journey to discover what boggles every twenty-something single woman’s mind: What do men REALLY want and how do you find the perfect mate? With the help of her two best friends; Annie, a self-conscious, sarcastic single mother; and Karen, the neurotic, perfectionist ‘bridezilla,’ Leslee creates The BACHELORETTE Project, a ‘scientific’ dating experiment designed to uncover the enigma of the male species. 

After multiple dates gone awry and unanticipated encounters of the extreme, Leslee decides to confide in the last person that she’d ever consider asking dating advice from: Eric, her handsome, womanizing college friend with a well-known ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ reputation. Aside from Eric’s infamous bachelor tactics, Leslee can’t help but to be oddly attracted to him, but will pursuing the charming, ‘bad boy’ philanderer that Eric is even be worth the risk?

With unbelievable twists and a contemporary, comedic Chick-Lit feel, The BACHELORETTE Project is the chronicle of a single woman’s journey to finding true friendship, discovering herself, and learning the enigma of love down to a science.

 Tami Anthony is an author, a playwright, and the beautiful mind behind Pink Butterfly Publications, a publishing company devoted to female-driven literature. She is a graduate of Rutgers University with a Bachelor’s in English Literature and Theatre Arts. Tami presently resides outside of Philadelphia with her son and is currently working on her second novel and future plays.

EXCERPT

I follow Mark to his house from the bar. We pull up to this very quaint brick rancher with a gigantic front yard and half groomed bushes and trees spread about. There is nothing spectacular about Mark’s house. It’s … well, very plain actually. It’s not a dream house nor a McMansion. It’s as ordinary as ordinary can be. Yup, I think to myself, this will definitely be a booty call. I can’t even imagine living in a house like this. It doesn’t scream RICH and FABULOUS the way I would want a house to scream. I imagine that my future husband will have a fantastic two-story house with a classy cobblestone driveway and this breathtaking garden with white roses and lilacs growing in effigy. Yeah, maybe I need to leave this dream world of mine and face reality. I could very well fall in love with a man who lives in a rancher or worse, a motorhome.

I park Karen’s car in front of his house. He walks over and opens the car door for me. “So, this is it,” Mark says as I exit the car. “This is my home.”

“It’s very nice,” I reply politely. So what if I lie? Don’t act like you’ve never done it.

“Yeah, I’m not home a lot because of work and all,” he tells me. You can say that again, I think to myself. Who in the world doesn’t make sure that their hedges are cut? Who doesn’t mow their own lawn? There’s a solution to this scenario and it’s called hiring a landscaper.

“That … sucks,” I blurt out. I couldn’t think of a good word to use. It seems that most of our conversation topics were used up at the bar. Maybe it’s a good thing, though. Less talk, MORE ACTION!

I hold on to his arm as we walk to his front door. I place my head onto his shoulder devouring the exotic scent of his cologne. I’m in heaven. I decide to go in for the kill. Before I know, I’m stopping him in his tracks and planting the most passionate kiss on his lips, taking his breath away. He looks stunned, in a good way of course.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“For being the sexiest man that I’ve ever met,” I say slyly. “I can’t wait to see the inside of your house, mainly your bedroom.” I slowly move my hand under his shirt touching his finely-chiseled abs. Mark becomes speechless.

“I, um, yeah,” he stutters in shock. “Yeah, you can see the bedroom,” he says eagerly and rushes me to the front door. “Let’s, um, do that!” He opens the door and pulls me inside. I push him against the closest wall and begin to kiss on his neck. “You still,” GROAN! “Want that … oh, God! Coffee?”

“Not … right … now,” I say between breaths as I pull anxiously on the top of his jeans. I then feel something rubbing against the bottom of my leg and I jump.

“What is it?” Mark asks with his eyes closed.

“Your dog,” I reply. The dog continuously jumps on my leg and I laugh. “He’s a cute dog.” A little brown, furry thing. His dog is the most adorable pocketbook dog that I’ve ever seen.

“Let me put him in the guest room,” Mark tells me. “I’ll be right back.” He directs me to his couch. “Have a seat. I have a surprise for you.”

“Already?” I ask. I doubt it’s diamonds. After all, we just met. Maybe it’s a very fine Chardonnay of some sort. A girl can wonder.

“Let’s just say I like to set the mood,” he says then winks. He walks away with the dog.

OK, I think to myself as I take a look around the living room. It’s your typical man-home equipped with a gargantuan-sized flat screen TV, an X-Box, surround sound speakers, an overly technical stereo, a wooden coffee table with absolutely nothing on it, and a wide collection of DVDs and video games. One thing’s for certain, he has a clean home that doesn’t smell funny. That has to be a plus, right?

“Leslee?” I hear Mark say seductively a few feet behind me.

“Yes?” I ask without turning around assuming that any second now he’ll be the one kissing my neck. He claps twice and the room darkens. The sound of house music blares from the speakers and white strobe lights begin to flicker within the room. What … the … fuck? “Um, Mark?” I ask. “What is going on?” I hear him breathing heavily behind me and I begin to panic a little.

“There’s one thing that I didn’t tell you at the bar,” he says and I’m so afraid to turn around. Where the hell did I put my Mace?!

“And, um, what’s that?” I ask. Now I’m speechless! What in the world is about to happen? Should I be praying?

I feel him licking on the back of my neck and I shiver. “I’m a dancer,” he says.

“You mean like Cabaret dancing, Riverdancing, what?” I ask as my body shakes. I have no clue what he’s talking about nor do I want to. “You dance the Tango?” I guess. “Waltz? Tap? Ballet?” I ask quickly.

“No,” he says and laughs. “I … am … SUPERMAN!” he shouts as he leaps over the couch and jumps onto the coffee table wearing a Superman thong and a red cape all while holding a glowstick in each hand. Oh … my … God, I think to myself. Is this really happening? My libido has gone from roaring and ready-to-go to temporarily shutting down for the night. Is he serious?

Mark throws his arms in the air and freezes into some sort of funny, galactic pose. The music stops for a second and his eyes widen. Dramatic effect, I guess?

He throws off the cape and begins to thrust his pelvis forward. The music seems to get louder and louder, and I become more and more anxious to run.

“Accountant by day,” Mark yells, “private dancer by night, baby!” He then leaps off the table and jumps on my lap, humping me like some overly anxious teenage boy. I cringe. This is not how I imagined my night … not at all.

“Maybe I should go,” I say with fear in my voice. “I, um, have to get up really early for Pilates and I …” I’m lost in thought. Why do these things always happen to me?!

“You like this body?” he asks as he breaths heavily into my face.

“Um, sometimes?” I say in the form of a question. “I don’t know?”

“You like this rock-hard ass?” he asks as he stands on the floor and bends over.

“I, um, it’s getting late. I should go,” I say in a rush and grab my purse. I try to stand up but he pushes me back on the couch. Kick to the crotch NOW? I ask myself but too frightened to move.

“Grab my ass,” he instructs me. Apparently there’s no shame in his game.

“Oh, no. I really shouldn’t.”

“GRAB MY ASS, DAMNIT!” he yells.

“OK, OK!” I yell back as I grab his left buttock. For some people, this would be the ultimate turn on, being dominated by a man in a Superman thong, but to me, not so much. I hold on to his butt cheek for dear life as his eyes roll into the back of his head. He looks just like a man who’s just cum. How is he getting aroused by this? Is this some sort of crazy Superman butt fetish that I wasn’t informed about? I have to get out of here!

“Ooooooh!” he groans loudly, then slowly his knees buckle and his body drops to the floor. He doesn’t move.

“Mark?” I say. He resembles a dead fish: pale, non-mobile, sickly looking. I clap twice to turn on the lights. “Mark, are you OK?” I ask as I stand over him and let my foot give his limp body a little nudge. He doesn’t respond. Oh fuck! I think I killed him! I grab his shoulders and shake him. “Mark, get up!” I yell. He lays still. “You can’t be dead!” I whimper pathetically as I smack his face. Sadly, part of me wants to take off the thongs and sneak a peek at the goods, another part of me wants to roll him on to his front yard for his neighbors to see what type of freak they live next to, but the part of me that’s telling me to leave quietly and quickly has hands down gotten my vote.

I slowly grab my purse and head to the door as his dog walks out into the living room and begins to lick on Mark’s face. The secrets that the dog could tell me are probably endless. Should I just steal the dog? No, Leslee, you can’t, I tell myself, then again …

“Since I obviously can’t have the man, I guess I’ll settle for man’s best friend,” I say aloud. The dog pauses from licking Mark’s face and runs toward me, jumping into my arms. The dog just looks at me. “What?” I ask him. “Would you rather be adopted by a woman with fabulous taste or would you rather be an orphan?” The dog looks down and whimpers. “Yeah, I thought so,” I say as I walk out of Mark’s house quietly. Another date, another disaster, but this time I leave with the cutest, most adorable partying gift ever: my new dog.

Guest Post -Tami Anthony’s Writing Process

Being a writer is perhaps one of the most challenging occupations in the world … well, at least I believe so. It takes a lot of discipline and creativity to concoct something so unique that it will literally grab the attention of its audience. With writing, whether it be a novel, a short story, or even a theatre play, there’s always a process. Granted, each writer has their own process on how to create the work of art that writing is, but I will say that my own personal process is pretty old-fashioned to say the least.

First things first, I develop an idea. My ideas can gravitate from life experiences and then given a fictional twist for entertainment purposes. Once I have an idea that I believe that I can relate to and genuinely portray to the audience , I just go with it and see what else I can add to it.

The second portion of my process is to find names for the characters that I am writing about. I find this to be one of the most difficult tasks in the process. Believe me, it sounds easy but it’s not for the reason that the name can sometimes reflect the personality of the character that you are writing about. I try using unique names, but nothing that is too extreme. For this, I use a baby name book or the good ol’ internet. If the name doesn’t fit the character, then it plagues my mind until I find a better name that suits them.

Next is writing an outline of the story. I ask myself what the reason is for writing the piece and what message I want to convey to the audience. After I figure out the message, I write an outline … on a yellow legal pad … chapter by chapter and incident by incident. This is why I consider myself a bit old fashioned. Everything is so technical nowadays and some people just go straight to their computers and type everything up including their outlines. I like to physically write it down and hang it on my office wall. Call it crazy or time consuming (and it is!), but I just find comfort in having things handwritten. It makes the process more real for me.

Last, but certainly not least, I begin to write the story. I don’t know why it is, but I like to switch from handwriting in a notebook to typing on the computer. I like both ways! I handwrote the first drafts of both my first play and my first novel from start to finish. It took a little bit longer, but pen and paper are like peanut butter and jelly to me. They’re meant to be together! Plus, I don’t want to restrict myself to a computer screen. It gets boring to me and it hurts my eyes LOL!

After all of this is done, I let my writing sit and I let the story marinate in my mind for a bit (sometimes days, sometimes weeks, sometimes MONTHS!). Then, of course, I go back to it and make improvements … and this is where the editing process comes in which is an entirely different blog post of its own.

One thing that I have learned is that the writing process does take time. You can’t expect greatness overnight. That is why with my process, I like to take my time. I don’t rush things because I want to put out the best possible work that I can. The process of writing can be grueling at times, but it is all worth it in the end.

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*Disclosure of Material Connection: I am a member of Reading Addiction Blog Tours and a copy of this book was provided to me by the author. Although payment may have been received by Reading Addiction Blog Tours, no payment was received by me in exchange for this review. There was no obligation to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are entirely my own and may not necessarily agree with those of the author, publisher, publicist, or readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the Federal Trade Commision’s 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning Use of Endorcements and Testimonials in Advertising*