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I am pleased to announce that the first book of my trilogy, Get on Board Little Children, has been awarded the Awesome Indies gold Seal of Excellence in fiction.

I actually began writing my trilogy as a kind of antidote to Fifty Shades of Gray, the pornographic best seller that became popular a couple of years ago and is in movie theaters now.

An acquaintance declined to finish my book, saying it wasn’t smutty enough. I take that as a compliment, since smut was not my goal. It was instead to reveal, through an exciting and interesting plot, the intrinsic value of the human being.

For Valentine’s Day, here is a page from the book. I confess to a weakness for my hero, Josh, who I offer as a more admirable example of manhood than the misogynistic sadist in Fifty Shades.

Josh, my heroine’s husband, has stumbled into the toils of a woman who wants him as a sperm donor. She tells him: “I’ve been looking for a suitable partner for my project for some time, but it’s been disappointing. The smart men I know are ugly as river rats, while the healthy handsome ones are scarcely able to string a sentence together. I can afford the reproductive permit, of course. That’s not a problem, since I work for the state. . . . But I do need a little help. And you are clearly both intelligent and good looking.”

“I’m flattered,” he said. “But I’m married, you know.”

“Yes. And I think that’s so quaint. It’s charming. Why did you do it?”

“Why? Well, we . . .” He fell silent. How could he explain the bond that held Sophie and him together, woven of a thousand moments: the first moment he had seen her, their first kiss, the confidences they shared with no one else. Her angry defense of him when someone made a racist comment, her care for him when he was sick, the tender moments of lovemaking, down to their wild dash into the unknown, risking everything together. ”It’s a commitment.”

“That is so sweet. She’s a lucky girl. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help me out, does it? Why would she care?”

He frowned at her. To gain time he drank more tea. “Uh, no. She would. Just like I would if it were reversed. We don’t do that.”

She brushed his knee with her foot, a light touch. “She wouldn’t need to know, then. No reason to upset her.”

He finished the tea and put the cup down. “I’m sorry, it’s not possible.”

In a smooth motion she slid from the table edge into his lap, her arms around his neck, the scented curtain of her hair falling around him. “Are you quite sure? Why don’t you think it over for a moment. What would that hurt?”

He tried to pull away without hurting her. She drew closer, clinging, soft as cotton candy, sweet smelling, all smooth flesh and tender lips. She brushed his lips with hers, then kissed him, her tongue flicking to touch his.

He felt as if he were strangling, though part of him swayed to her temptation, desired nothing more than to succumb, seize her in both arms and crush her closer.

He felt dizzy. Of their own volition, his arms went around her and he returned her kiss, crushing his mouth to hers, running his hands up her back, feeling the supple musculature under her blouse. He felt fire burn through him. Before he lost his senses entirely, for a moment he balanced on the cusp of wondering, just wondering what harm it would do, a few moments pleasure, no one need know. Then he thought of Sophie, of the babies she carried, of his promise to her. And that bond that he did not want to break.

With a mighty effort he pulled away from her, lifted her from his lap and stood up. The effort caused a stabbing pain in his arm, and left him gasping. “I’m very sorry. I can’t do what you want. And it wouldn’t be fair to the child – I want to be a father to any child I have. Not just litter the landscape with them and walk off.”

Get On Board Little Children by Victoria Randall
Come on Home, Children by Victoria Randall
City of Hidden Children by Victoria Randall
Future Dreaming Tales of SciFi and Fantasy

In the future, who will make your choices?

Difficult Run

Beautifully struggle every day

One Thousand Words a Week

Either this, or another ten bucks for Lisa.

Alisa Jordan

Young Adult Novelist with a dark work in progress.

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