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December 06 , 2009

The Accidental TV Star


Marissa, a recent high school graduate and amateur chef, loves cooking, the culinary reality show Scoop Out, and hot Scottish movie star Garrett Campbell. Despite her big dreams, her feet are firmly planted on the non-slip, rubber floor mat behind the counter of the Texas Fry Hut.

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Excerpt The Accidental TV Star Copyright 2013:
“Show me why you haven’t dated until you’ve dated a cook.”

I patted the ground beside me and he joined me as the sun lowered into the ocean, leaving us in darkness lit by stars, the moon, and twinkle lights. Grinning, I turned my head and found Garrett watching me. I gathered the skirts of my plaid gown in my hands. “Get comfortable.” I inched closer. Garrett put his hands on my waist as if guessing my intent. I straddled his lap and my knees dug into the cool grass. The silk of my skirt dropped from my hands. “Cooking has many important dimensions.”

“Aye, ‘tis a worthy pursuit.”

“Some of the key components are appearance, temperature, taste, and texture.” My fingers brushed his and warmth tingled throughout my body. “Which do you want to learn about tonight?”

“All of them.”

My mouth curled up. “You have to choose.”

“I choose all of them.”

I glanced at the wedding cake: vanilla covered in white frosting with a honey pattern drizzled over it. Next, I looked at the steam rising off the hot tea and the sugar cubes on the saucer beside it, last the amber whiskey. “I’m feeling generous and since this is our first and last date, I’ll teach you two of them.”

“Aye. Two then four.”

“You’re greedy. I like that.”

His fingers tightened on my waist.

“We’ll do texture and temperature.”


“I didn’t think Scottish people answered questions with yes or no responses. I read that somewhere.”

“Marissa, you’re hinting at a kiss. My mind has emptied and one word is all that remains.”

“Aye,” I teased him. I reached for the sugar cube, dipped it in the tea so I could crumble it. It broke apart and I rubbed the sugary granules between my thumb and index finger. Next, I traced across the center of his bottom lip with the sugar. Warm. Soft. “Feel each granule as it rolls across you?”

Garrett licked his lips and his eyes followed my movements.

I dipped my finger into the white icing and fluffed it across his bottom lip. “And the softness of the creamy icing.”

Garrett licked his lips again.

I lifted the whiskey glass next and swirled my finger inside. “The burn’s important too.” I was going to trace his lips again, but Garrett opened his mouth and I slid my finger inside. He sucked on it. The motion made my thighs tighten and my eyes lower. Ah.

I withdrew my hand. I had one more trick to show him. I ran my index finger lightly over the drizzled honey and tapped it against his mouth. “Feel the sticky pull? Variety’s important. Kissing’s an art. It can’t be all velvety smooth.” My voice deepened. “Add the rough. Add the layers.”

Garrett grabbed my wrist and guided my finger into his mouth, licking the honey off with one stroke.

Wow. I leaned toward him and reached for his mouth. I had one focus in the whole world. To kiss Garrett. Here. Now. In this magical place. My eyes closed and the darkness aided in the sensations. Heat. Consuming, building heat. His mouth moved over mine, his lips parted, pressing. He trailed the kiss over my mouth, my jaw, and down to my neck. Then I felt his tongue. Oh. I sucked in a breath, but instead of being fortified by the oxygen, my limbs trembled as if weakened. I tightened my grip on his shoulders.

He whispered my name on a groan, half in question, half in demand. “Marissa.”

Garrett kissed slowly, like he talked. The same way he rolled out his words and flipped consonants. That’s how he kissed.

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