Kiss & Tell?

Like most writers, I’d like to tell you that the idea for this book, was a moment of clarity, where the world finally made sense. Since a young girl I believed writers had miraculous minds, where ideas poured like cascading water into a beautiful river of prose. Mine, however, came at exactly 6:16pm May 21, 2010 in the comfort of my shower. I, too, would like to digress at this point that many of my finer thoughts and euphoniums take place in my shower. Maybe it’s because I’m naked. Free of clothing, free of restriction, washing away the sins of the day. Who knows.

Anyways, my idea. I’d  like to say it was glamorous, but quite frankly, it came as I took a long pull of a $1.69 plastic bottle of Mikes Hard Lemonade, I had purchased ten minutes before at a local drug store. What? Yes, I am 24 and still drinking in the shower. Some may shake their heads as they read this, but I know, there are the select few of you out there who are mentally giving me a high five. And as much as I hate to admit this, I did in fact immaturely laugh at the number 69. What? You know you like it too. Fine, I will get to the point.

My idea stemmed from a conversation I had earlier that day, on my way to job number two. And as I reflected on one particular comment I had sent via text to my 30 year-old, one hell of a smoking’ hot nurse best friend, I realized that without kissing and telling there would be no fun in dating. I’m sure you are wondering what I said to her. Huh?

Well, here it is. Wait, but before I do, I have to let you know one thing. He will remain nameless, in respect to his privacy. I would not want to ruin his day or anything like that. But here it goes. “I don’t care. I mean, he idolizes Brett Michaels. Cute. But not the father of my children.” And with that I realized that women probably all over the world have similar stories of hook-ups, break-ups, hot one-night stands, crazy sex escapades JUST DYING to get out.  So here, it is ladies, a book of kissing and telling, with no remorse. Giving you the dirty, in the most awkward of situations. The heat, in the most passionate of moments. And of course falling in love even after the passion fades between the sheets.

As for, Mr. I-Will-Remain- Nameless, I can’t help but deny the surge of excitement I get when I hear “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn”. Oh. Brett Michaels...

P.S., as I write this last sentence I have moved on to a much classier glass of Pinot Gringo and my legs are shaved in preparation for a night of “research.”