Ok, bear with me...this is my first attempt at more graphic scenes. I'm working on a novel in this genre, but with less detail in the intimate scenes, but wanted to see if I could write it more graphically, possibly create two versions...
Note, I have set this up using some italics and bolds. Have also used style tags normal and dialog in Word 2011(mac). I used to set up text books for a living and have done one published how-to jewelry book, so I'm in layout mode!
*****
Ellie was tired. Tired of spinning her wheels in life; tired of being alone. It had been years since she'd had a real relationship. She'd been out on a few dates, only to find that the guys were jerks, or couldn't keep up with her intelligence, or they were only interested in taking advantage of her loneliness; something she didn't let them do. She'd been feeling increasingly depressed for several months, feeling like life was passing her by, leaving her behind. She feels like her life should be on some different path, but she just can't seem to find it. One night, she gets a Facebook message from a guy she doesn't know. She figures it's just another one of those scammer emails, preying on lonely women. She looks at it, expecting it to be the usual 'my dear, I came across you profile and fell for your smile'...blah, blah, blah... Instead, the message said:
"Hi, my name is Michael, and I live just outside of town. I saw we share some interests: sci-fi, paranormal, karaoke, rock collecting. Just thought I'd drop you a hello. Holler back if you feel like it!"
Shocked that the message was from a real, local person, who actually shared some of her interests, she looks through his profile and searches the web to try to see if there is any sign he's some sort of ax murderer before she writes back to him. Satisfied he had no criminal record and no obvious signs of being a scammer or potential rapist, she answers his message. So begins an online friendship. Her mood starts to improve as she looks forward to hearing from him every evening after work.
After a couple of weeks of chatting, she gets a message:
"Hey, I've really enjoyed chatting, but was wondering if maybe you wanted to get together some time? Grab some food or a movie or just go for a walk? I'd really like to meet you face to face."
It was the other shoe dropping. She's very self-conscious about her appearance and social awkwardness, she is unsure she wants to meet him face to face. She fears that it might ruin things between them-that he'd loose interest if he actually met her face to face, but after some coaxing, he gets her to agree to meet him at a local restaurant, The Purple Pear, a kind of casual restaurant and bar, at 8 pm.
She arrives a little early and waits in the bar, as agreed. 8 pm comes around, then 8:15. He hasn't arrived yet. 8:30, and feeling depressed at the possibility that she's been stood up by the one person she hoped could be what she's been missing in her life, she orders a drink. She drinks it down, but it only makes her more depressed. 8:45, then 9 pm and two more drinks on an otherwise empty stomach, and she sinks into a deep depression; so deep that she decides she's had enough. She decides to end it all. She pays her bar tab, grabs her purse and keys and heads for the door. As her foot reaches the threshold, she feels a hand on her shoulder.
"Ellie, I'm so sorry I'm late, I wanted to call, but my phone was dead." Michael says.
Ellie pauses, then reluctantly turns to face him. He's taller than she expected, but just as attractive as his picture on his profile, which makes her feel even more self conscious about her 'unremarkable' and slightly plump figure.
"I thought you...you weren't going to show..." she slurs out.
Ellie feels slightly dizzy for a second, as she makes eye contact with Michael. She writes it off to too much alcohol and nothing to eat. A flash of pain and pity flashes across Michael's eyes, as he gently shifts his hand from her shoulder to her arm and nudges her back inside the restaurant.
"Give me a second chance? I really was unavoidably detained, but I'm here now." He says, keeping eye contact all the while.
"I reserved a table in the back, where we can have some peace and quiet. Will you join me?" he asks.
Feeling a bit fuzzy, she nods, following him to the back of the restaurant, to a private corner booth, with vintage velvet curtains pulled back to allow entry. She sits down on autopilot, feeling strangely out of control. Michael enters the booth and pulls the curtains shut, even though no one else is in the room. He sits down to face Ellie, sadness in his eyes. He pours her a small glass of aromatic liquid.
"Here..." He says.
"I think I've had enough to drink, thanks." She says, pushing it away.
"It's non-alcoholic. It's a natural mix of several aromatic herbs and plants, including honeysuckle. It will help with that headache you must be brewing by now?" he says.
"Yeah...three drinks is more than I usually have, but I wasn't really thinking ahead to a morning hangover. Some way to make a first impression?" She says, grinning and drinks the liquid down.
Now that she's drunk the elixir he gave her, he plunges in with both feet, knowing he will have to work quickly...and move plans forward way ahead of schedule, and without the subtlety he had planned.
"Ellie, I'm sorry, this is not how I wanted things to go, but I can't ignore the fact that you were ready to drive off from here and kill yourself." He says, waiting for her response.
Taken aback by his blunt words and his impossible knowledge, she stares at him a few seconds before responding.
"H... how did you know? I... I only decided..."
He cuts her off. "I could see it in your mind when I stopped you at the door." He tells her, waiting for the other mental shoe to drop.
"Excuse me? You could what?" she says, slowly starting to 'wake up' mentally again.
"I read your mind. Your intent was clear. You were going to drive off the high road by the river, and end it all." He says, bluntly. "And seeing as how you have essentially forfeited your life with your intension to suicide, I claim it." He says, putting his hand on hers on the table.
"You mean
you're
going to kill me instead?" she asks, trying to stave off her gut feeling of danger with sarcasm.
"No, but I will keep you from carrying it out. I can't let you kill yourself. I have worked too hard to find you and get to you.
I need you alive
." He says, emphasizing each word of the last sentence.
"Whoa! Take a step back here! What do you mean 'you've been looking for me' and you 'need me alive'? And how the hell did you read my mind?!" she asks.
She realizes something is very off. She tries to get closer to the opening in the curtains, to stand up, and escape a potentially very bad situation, but finds her muscles won't cooperate; she can't move. She prepares to scream, but feels her vocal chords lock up. Her eyes widen and her heart rate skyrockets in panic.
"No screaming, and no running away. I'm not going to hurt you, but I can't wait for you to feel comfortable with me to do what needs to be done next." He says.
He pauses to look her in the eyes, he reaches over and gently strokes her cheek.
"Don't be afraid. I'm going to loosen my control now, so you can speak." He tells her.
"What the
Hell
are you? How are you doing this?" she says, breathlessly.
"That's the hard part to explain, at least without freaking you out. (He pauses, searching her face to gauge how she might take things). I'm guessing by now, you already suspect I'm not quite an ordinary man, or even human?" he says, expectantly.