FIGHTING OVER ME

1 / 3

Round 1

S. Cane

Cover: Giada Armani

Copyright: BERLINABLE UG

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

ME-OWW

LA’s hottest nightclub got a little hotter last night when Marta Mathis and AJ Babineaux took their frenemy feud to the next level. Marta, star of the hit new show High-Wire, showed up at 9:32 to catch the set by that positively smoking band The Quislings, but she’d only been there half an hour when AJ, who plays that naughty Vix on the same show, showed up. For a moment, it seemed like they’d play nice, but then Marta and AJ went to use the ladies’ room at the same time. No little birdies to tell us what they talked about, unfortunately, but ten minutes later, Marta was out the door and off for parts unknown. As for AJ, we hear she went backstage to meet the band and showed off a delish outfit at their after party. Twenty-four hours later, they’re both back on set at the Paramount lot, all smiles as they film another episode of High-Wire, but you’ve got to wonder if these two are really the BFFs their social media makes them look like or if they’ve decided that only one of them can be top dog of the coolest show on television!

Excepted from The Nicotine Diaries, online blog, 2019.

***

It was the dry season in Hollywood—no pilots being made, the big productions all already cast. I was still what you might call a struggling actor, but I’d booked enough commercial roles and bit parts in the past month that I didn’t feel the need to hustle for scraps when less than nothing was available. So I took advantage of a Groupon deal and found myself in a sunny resort on the California beach, San Quinby.

Unfortunately, you get what you pay for. The beaches were crowded, so I made do—lying by the pool, working on my tan, and enjoying the fresh air, the clear skies, and the warm sun.

I was half-asleep when a shadow fell across my face, waking me. I sat up, certain someone was trying to attract my attention, and was so befuddled I felt a momentary spring of panic at being unclothed. I was wearing, at the moment, a loose pair of swim trunks and some tanning oil. They were baggy on me; it’d be a few years since I’d gone swimming and I’d lost some weight in the interval. I didn’t like to think about how much of that was fat and how much of it was muscle.

Still, they were enough to preserve my modesty, which I realized as I took off my sunglasses and saw who was providing the shade.

“Oh my God… Marta? Marta Mathis?”

“Damon McCallister!” she replied happily, taking off her own sunglasses.

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