Rendezvous

© Brianna Lee McKenzie 2014

She held me today. She caressed my back as she opened me up and unveiled my innermost thoughts. Her eyes filled with passion as they danced adoringly over me, drinking in the very essence of my soul.

She gave me her full attention. Not like normal, when she concentrates on her husband, or her kids or that dog.  

No, today was different with her. She laid on the sofa with me, a crackling fire kept time with the soft music while a soothing glass of wine relaxed her tense muscles.  As the gentle melody surrounded us, we journeyed to where she had never been before. Exhilaration was the catalyst for an inspiring experience that she would never forget.

It had been a long time since we’d been together and it was just like the first time. As the evening progressed, we explored emotions and sensations that we had never felt before. To my utter satisfaction, she was mesmerized by the intensity of our encounter.  The excitement of our journey was like an ascent into the rapture of ardent pleasure, which propelled us higher and higher until our ultimate reward was realized.

Suddenly, a tear made a shallow river down her flushed cheek and she pulled away, but only for a moment.  Then, a languid sigh escaped her pouting lips and she stared at me with more love than I had ever known.  Finally, a satisfied smile crept across her face and she held me lovingly to her breast.  She murmured the words that I had wanted to hear with every fiber of my soul.

“That was the best,” she whispered through tears of elation. “That was the best book I’ve read in years!”  

Cliffhanger

Before I wrote L’Inked, I had always composed sweet romantic stories where I would take the reader up to the point of virtual bliss and then I transitioned to the next scene with prolific prose. To me, it was not unlike a portrait of a beautiful woman who was dressed in clothes that hid the most intimate parts and it was up to the readers, or the admirers of the portrait, to peel back the layers in their imaginative minds. And that was risqué enough for me.

But after seeing the attention that Fifty Shades of Grey received, my son asked me why I didn’t write a book like that. I told him that I would never write about BDSM but I that could attempt to write an erotic novel. I toyed with the idea, hovering for some time on that diving-board of doubt, before I finally made myself vault right into the deep end.

All I had to do was to take that proverbial step over the precipice of rising literary ecstasy and describe the scenes in full, provocative detail in which the characters triumphed in a wide range of exotic, erotic experiences. For me, it was simply one more summit to surpass.  But, it wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought it would be.

I wrote the book, complementing  it with as many carnal components as I could without compromising the plot, and I dedicated it to my son. If he had not encouraged me to write such an exhilarating example of the sensual relationship between a man and a woman, I may never have stepped over that cliff.

And after I finished the novel, I began to receive compliments about it. My readers said that they were “sucked into the story” and that the sex scenes only brought the characters closer together, binding them both physically and emotionally. You, too, will be ecstatically amazed that Marc and Cassie balance their challenging struggle to remove the curse that the Voodoo Queen placed on them with exciting love-making that will “blow your mind”.

Many of its readers also commented that the book would make a great movie. So, after lots of research (and plenty of procrastination), I adapted it into a screenplay. This was another new adventure that I postponed because of my lack of confidence in my ability. But this time, after revving myself up with reassurances, I hit the air running and had the first draft finished in a mere three days. Again, it was not as hard as I had thought it would be.

My next giant jump will be to pitch the screenplay to potential producers, directors and investors. Hopefully, I’ll have an agent to assist me. But first, I’ll have to pitch it to an agent. (Oh my!) I’ve put this off for months, still held back by both the fear of failure and the anxiety of success. I have stretched my leg out a few times, but have quickly retracted it. Now, I must take a deep breath and soar off that cliff, knowing that, whether it’s a crash dive or a smooth touchdown, landing is inevitable. And, I know that bolting forward is imperative because the bluff of uncertainty is even more terrifying than the leap of faith.

Read an exhilarating expert from L’Inked here 

Buy L’Inked here

Becoming Brianna

As I hold the paperback copy of Enchanted Heart in my hands, I realize that this is a bittersweet time for me.  I am so happy that I have finally accomplished my dream of being published (and in print). But at the same time, I am sad that my son Brian is not here to celebrate with me.

You see, he was my biggest fan.  When he was nine years old, he sketched the cover picture to the novel that I had been working on.  I still have that novel tucked away in a box with his drawing proudly displayed on the top.  I’ll probably never publish the book that I had had titled Return to Paradise. It is too precious to me. It was his and mine and I am not ready to share it.

When I was sending out endless copies of my work to publishers, agents and other media, he would ask me “Are you in print yet?”  He would hurry to the mailbox to see if I had gotten an acceptance letter every day after school.  And when he would see that I had gotten another rejection letter, he would say, “Don’t give up, Mom. It will happen.”

After he graduated from high school and started college, I sent Golden Dreams to an agent and he would come home for the weekend and ask, “Any news?” I’d have to say,”No.”  And he would repeat his mantra, “Don’t give up, Mom. It will happen.”

In November of 2005, I signed with an agent who promised that my book would sell quickly. I was so excited to tell him when he came home from college for Christmas in his freshman year.  He gave me the biggest hug. I can still see the proud smile on his face.

 

Unfortunately, he was killed in a horrific house fire just a few days before Christmas.  He had gone to a friend’s house to spend the night along with some other boys.  The fire started while they were sleeping and Brian died along with two other beautiful and passionate young men. It was such a hard time for me.  And as the years crept by, the pain was only lessened by my undying love for my son and the knowledge that he is watching me with that huge proud smile of his and whispering in my ear, “See, Mom? I knew it would happen!” I just wish that I could hear his living voice saying those very words…

This is why I have taken his name. I will be forever Brianna in honor of him. His name will be on every story that I write and every poem that I pen.  

Now, as I hold the paperback copy of Enchanted Heart, I see his name (my name) and I cry with both joy and sorrow.  I thumb through the printed words and whisper to him, “We did it!” As I cradle the book in my arms, I say, “I never gave up!” And with a heavy heart, I utter, “I wish you were here to see it.”

But, he is, I tell myself.  He is in my heart and his memory influences so many things in my life.  My drive to succeed is purely due to his encouraging words, which meander in my mind like breaths of blessed inspiration.  I still won’t give up even though I finally have a book in print.  I won’t give up chasing a dream that is beyond a loving child’s hopes for his mother to succeed.  Now, my dream is immortality.  I want his name, even though it is the female version, to live forever.