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Chick Lit Plus Blog Tour: Featuring CC Solomon

Hello, Everyone! I've got another blog tour for you, this time, featuring an excerpt from CC Solomon's The Mission.

Enjoy!

  Chapter Twenty
Rule #19: You’ve got to give a little to get a little. Be giving of yourself, and it will make a lasting impression to keep your Mr. Right.
Some people were natural givers, and others were natural takers. I didn’t think that was the case with Terrance and me, but ever since our argument where we’d both divulged more than we’d planned, we had been pretty tight-lipped. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it’s just that I didn’t see the point in bringing up memories of his dead father, or discussing his alcoholic mother. It would just be too painful for him, and I had no advice to give. So my best role was to be a place he could escape all that. I assumed he felt the same because he hadn’t bothered me about how I was doing with my father, or trying to build a relationship with my stepmother.
Maybe that wasn’t the right way to go, but I just wanted the good stuff right now. For once I just wanted to hold onto that good feeling about a guy, and push away the fact that he came from a family with mental illness, and what the risk of that could be genetically if by some miracle we were to last, get married, and have kids. It was depressing, and I needed to focus on the good. Pessimism was too commonplace for me. So for now, sharing was not caring.
I was thinking all this as I excused myself and went to Terrance’s bathroom that evening after a wonderful meal he’d prepared for me quite out of the blue. Men did not call me on a Tuesday evening and say ‘hey, can I cook you dinner?’ And if they did, I was automatically suspicious, thinking they just wanted to find an excuse to get me in their house to try to hook up. No man is that giving. However, Terrance and I had already had sex, so at this point I could let go of suspicion.
He was a really good cook to my surprise, but some of the spinach from the salad he’d made had taken up residence in between my teeth, and I couldn’t ignore the yucky feeling. I looked in the bathroom mirror and tried to push the offending vegetable bit out with a fingernail, all ladylike, but when that didn’t work I opened up his medicine cabinet to see if he had any dental floss. Despite the stereotype about British teeth, his were quite nice and, like I hoped, there was floss… right next to several prescription bottles.
Ignoring them was the thing to do. I mean, I shouldn’t have even opened the cabinet in the first place. But I truly had honest intentions, and now that I had seen them, I couldn’t just ignore them. And my eyes couldn’t just not see the titles of the prescriptions, and I couldn’t just not take out my smartphone and confirm my suspicion about the use of these drugs on the Internet. And I couldn’t just not read that those medications were, like I thought, associated with depression, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.
Suddenly all I wanted was an escape or a do-over. But now that I knew, I couldn’t just un-know. It seemed the good times were over. I rolled my eyes in frustration. Why was I always getting the maladjusted guys? Then I immediately felt guilty for thinking that. Terrance had been through a lot in his life; who wouldn’t be depressed every now and then? But he never told me. Then again, I reasoned, it was his business, at least for now. I didn’t share all my health issues. Heck, I didn’t even tell him when I was on my period; why would he tell me when he was feeling a little down? Of course I was assuming that this was all it was, that it wasn’t something more serious.
I just couldn’t ignore it because something like this, much like my impending period, was bound to rear its ugly head and mess up everyone’s day. The question now was how to broach the topic. If only I could call Sheila to get some advice; but something this personal I just couldn’t share. I’d have to channel my inner Murder She Wrote and get to the truth on my own.
I went into the kitchen where Terrance was washing a pot. I grabbed the dish towel right before he reached for it. “Let me help.”
He smiled and shook his head. “You don’t have to.”
“And yet I want to.” I took the pot from him. “That dinner was so good, Terrance. Really. I think I needed that spinach. Isn’t there iron in it? Did you know I’m anemic, and I have a vitamin D deficiency?”
“Really?” he replied, scrubbing vigorously at another pot.
“You should just let that soak. Yeah, between taking pills for iron, vitamin D, a women’s multivitamin and now going on the pill, I feel like an old person. I have to get one of those pill cases.”
Terrance chuckled as he filled the pot with hot water to soak it.
“You take any pills?” Hmm, didn’t feel as smooth a transition as I would have liked.
Apparently Terrance didn’t think so either, because he gave me squinted eyes, turned the water off, then moved away from the counter. “Take it you saw my drug supply in the cupboard?” he asked, his back to me.
I put the pan I was drying down. “I was looking for dental floss and just glanced at them. I mean, it’s your business, you don’t have to share. It’s no biggie.” It was a biggie, please share so I can stop freaking out.

Author Bio:

C.C. is originally from Baltimore, Maryland and has actively written fiction since the age of eleven. She is an avid “chick lit” reader and urban fantasy fan. In 2012, she participated as a writer and actress in the 48 hour film project. In her other life, she works in Equal Employment and Civil Rights for the Federal Government. Before becoming a public servant, C.C. briefly practiced law after graduating from the University of Maryland School of Law. C.C. currently resides in the Washington D.C. area and is an active blogger. The Mission is C.C.’s first novel and she is working on her next novel in the genre of urban fantasy.

Links to book


Connect with CC!


Rule #6: Be mysterious, but always approachable…keep him wanting more!
Rule #11: Always remember, no sex in the beginning. Make him wait!
Rule #19: You’ve got to give a little to get a little. Be giving of yourself, and it will make a lasting impression to keep your Mr. Right.

Sheila and Denise are successful, funny and attractive, but very single women. Not that being single is horrible; but when Denise is hassled to have a date to an old friend’s wedding-of-the-century, and Shelia needs an escort to an industry banquet where everyone who’s anyone will be in attendance, being single loses its perks. To add to the dilemma, Sheila tells a little white lie to her workplace nemesis about dating a successful music producer, which explodes into a career-threatening rumor. Under extreme pressure from family, friends and coworkers, they resort to making a pact. Their Mission: Get A Man in Three Months. They will use “proven” rules to finding their Mr. Rights. Rules that worked for a friend of a friend …how hard could it be?

Join them in their hilarious, and sometimes heartbreaking adventures as chapter by chapter they follow a new rule, and delve into the treacherous world of Washington, D.C. dating. The gal pals suffer through speed dating (Sam Needs-a-Bath). They allow themselves to be set up on blind dates (Bitter Crying Kevin). They try a dating service (Apron-Strings Adrian). They try the bar scene (Smoky the Bear who smokes more than cigars). They even meet men in the beauty salon (Javier Not Quite Straight). And there’s more, much more. Surrounded by family drama, workplace stressors and their own hang-ups about love, will the rules actually help them find their Mr. Rights in time for their events?

Comments

  1. So I am early on in the book but I already feel like I can relate to Sheila. She is tired of people asking about her single status and the whole dating game but still seems optimistic that Mr. Right is out there and she comes up with more ways to get herself out there and closer to her goal.

    I also love that this story takes place locally (DC/B-more area). Can't wait to see how it turns out!

    ReplyDelete

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