An Experiment In #Writing Contemporary Romance: AMAL, Part 7

Some random outtakes from my Thanksgiving break and part VII of AMAL…

MadhuriWrites

love-triangle

My trip home to Georgia for Thanksgiving is winding down and coming to a close. The Kid and I had a great time, goofing around with the family, spending time with old friends, and of course talking politics.

I’m not going to bore y’all with the details, but I’ll share some random highlights:

1. I made a date with my mom for a night of opera at the The Met
2. I ate lots of pimento cheese and bacon jam – which was yummy, but nothing like my girl, Jen’s
3. I drank whiskey (what’s new there?)
4. I learned my mom’s theory on women in the arts prior to the 1900s, when men are credited with most of the great works: women have the gift of bringing forth life so men, in their need to feel somewhat worthy, produced great art. She has no explanation for the state of…

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An Experiment In #Writing Contemporary Romance: AMAL, Part 6

AMAL, part VI – my love triangle writing experiment

MadhuriWrites

bizarre_love_triangle

We woke up to snow this morning.

Actually, I woke up to The Kid screaming, “MOMMY! MOMMY! OH MY GOD!” because that is how The Kid feels about snow, especially when there’s been no discussion of any sort of snow event in the Tri-State area. A morning full of fluffy, cold, white surprise and the potential to use the sled, which is precisely what he and his friend have been doing since 8:03 this morning, is cause for serious celebration.

I, on the other hand, am ensconced in my kitchen with a hot cup of coffee, some Thelonious Monk, and paperwork everywhere. There’s the admissions documents for The Kid’s new private school lying next to the paperwork necessary to change my name back to my birth name which is underneath all the apartment listings I’m looking at later today and all of that is next to poems poems poems everywhere because…

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An Experiment In #Writing Contemporary Romance: AMAL, Part 5

Part V of AMAL, also known as that time I tried writing contemporary romance.

MadhuriWrites

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I’m watching episode 4 of The Walking Dead, the one where Negan visits Alexandria and I know I shouldn’t like him, but my dark twisted soul rather loves him. He’s such an asshole and does all kinds of evil shit with that smirk on his face, looking all tall and sexy.

And when he met Father Gabriel – ha. I laughed aloud at his “creepy smile” comment – I’ve always thought the same about Gabriel – creepy.

Anyway, I’m going to keep watching Rick look sad and pathetic in the face of Negan’s sadistic, disgusting, horrifying behavior while y’all read some more of my Amal-Jackson-Andrew love triangle.

Oh, and for those of you just joining the party, here are parts ONE TWO THREE FOUR

Enjoy.


CHAPTER THREE – AMAL

“Amal! Oh my goodness,” warm arms surrounded me and my cheeks were kissed, not once, not twice, but…

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An Experiment In #Writing Contemporary Romance: AMAL, Part 4

Part 4 of my contemporary romance, love triangle writing experiment, AMAL.

MadhuriWrites

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I’m back.

Back from the shock and despair, the disbelief and fear of the election results. I’m coming to terms with this new Amerikkka, this one built upon the falsehood that is the electoral college, by chanting in my head like a mantra

SHE WON THE POPULAR VOTE
SHE WON THE POPULAR VOTE
SHE WON THE POPULAR VOTE

But I needed a night to be quiet, chat with a friend, watch The Kid and his crew destroy my house in their liberated, free-from-this-madness-because-they-trust-we’ll-protect-them, anarchic play. I needed to turn inward, to scroll instead of comment, to listen to music. I needed to turn off the lights. I needed to dance.

I did all of that and you know what?

I woke up this morning, still scared and curious about what is to become of me and The Kid and The Daughter in this Amerikkka that has made it pretty clear…

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An Experiment In #Writing Contemporary Romance: AMAL, Part 3

And now Part III of that time I tried writing a book about regular people falling in love and having sex and messing with each other…without any magic, dragons, or poison-tipped blades…that piece of adult contemporary romance also known as AMAL

MadhuriWrites

love-triangle

It’s day two of NaNoWriMo and I’ve got to get started on my daily goal of 2000 words, so I’m going to make this short and sweet: here’s part three of AMAL, my experiment in writing an adult contemporary romance.

Hope you enjoy.


CHAPTER TWO – AMAL

“Amal! Come on, babe. Let’s do this already.”

I rolled my eyes as I studied my reflection one more time. Hair, check. Mascara, check. Cherry chapstick, check. I pressed my hands to my waist, sucked in for a second, then followed the line of my hips, wishing they were a little smaller, knowing I would never be white-girl skinny.

“Amal! Stop pining for thighs like a white girl. Let’s go!”

Jackson.

Always reading me like a book. I headed downstairs, amused and annoyed at the same time, trying to remember the moment he learned me so well, wondering if I could do the…

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An Experiment In #Writing #ContemporaryRomance: AMAL, Part 2

I forgot to share part two of that time I tried writing a book about regular people falling in love and having sex and messing with each other…without any magic, dragons, or poison-tipped blades…that piece of adult contemporary romance also known as AMAL

MadhuriWrites

love-triangle

It’s been a few days since I posted Part 1 of AMAL, my little exercise or experiment or hmmmm…my dance around the outskirts of writing adult contemporary romance.

In other words, my book about humans.

Sexy, smart humans.

Sexy, smart humans living in NYC, bumping into each other, and of course at some point, fucking each other.

Ready for Part 2?

Enjoy.


CHAPTER ONE – AMAL

“Miss?” the salesclerk stared at me like I had three heads, her eyebrows raised in slight irritation, “do you have two cents?”

“What? Oh yeah, sure, hold on,” I stuttered, gathering myself and my bearings as I dug into my wallet for two pennies and handed them over, “sorry about that.”

Something told me the stranger was smiling, I could feel his eyes all over me, their amusement like a soft kiss to that special spot on my neck. 

Stop it, Amal

I…

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