Like I said. I went crazy over here on my blog with various authors who have stories in the just-released anthology Order Up: A Menu of Lesbian Romance & Erotica, edited by yers truly and R.G. Emanuelle.
Today, we are joined by N.R. Dunham, who will share with you some background about her story, “A Twist of France.” She’s also included an excerpt, so dive right in and get you some. 🙂
A Twist of France
By N.R. Dunham
All right, looks like it’s my turn to grab up the blog tour baton. While doing that, I’ll confess that I’ve never actually done a blog tour before, so this is a bit like hanging out with the cool kids for the first time. I’m going to give myself a quick pep talk here, and while that’s happening, you guys should check out yesterday’s entry from Emma Weinmann.
Okay, everybody back, everybody good? Good. So, we’ve established that I’m muddling through this very cool, very exciting, but slightly terrifying thing. We’ve all been there, right? New school, new job, new relationship, sometimes life’s just a long stretch of muddling through, fake it ’til you make it, and all those other great clichés too numerous to list. Essentially, that’s what my tale in Order Up: A Menu of Lesbian Romance & Erotica is about.
Trish is an athlete who’s living the dream with her partner. They travel the world, they take lots of pictures, they make love, they sample exotic cuisines. Much of their relationship, at least as far as Trish is concerned, is built on this: going where they want when they want, tasting the local fare, Trish being able to use her athletic gifts to give the love of her life a good life.
And then — well, to grab up more clichés — life happens. Accidents happen. Trish is hurt, and forced to muddle through a new existence. One where everything that used to be easy is hard, where she can no longer grab her girl and fly to Rome on an impulse, because one of them has been craving real Italian food for a week.
As adjustments go, not an easy one to make, not an easy thing to push through, even with a loving, supportive partner. Here’s a few of the words I strung together to describe Trish’s struggle.
Peggy kissed her hair again, touched it in a way that might’ve been hesitant. Then she was gone, leaving Trish among the relics of their former life. She stayed on the couch with her eyes slammed shut for a moment, steeling herself. Then she pulled herself up and crossed to the window that provided a good view of their street. This place was on the first floor, of course. Close to the hospital and her physical therapy appointments. Trish missed the old place, the balcony high above the ground where she and Peg used to sit and drink wine and think of things that were no longer possible.
The announcers helpfully narrated everything she was missing as she waited. She’d planned to be in France for the whole of the race, even if she’d only be participating in one event for one day. La Course was relatively new, progress in the fight to get women competing with the men in the Tour de France proper. Trish was meant to ride on the U.S. team, and she’d been embarrassingly excited about it. Peg had thrown an impromptu party. There’d been too much food, too many drinks, and a fabulous amount of celebratory sex after the guests departed.
So much extra training, so many plans. Trish had been determined to do her best, but even if she wasn’t first to cross the finish line, the trip would’ve been worth it. All that stuff about it being an honor just to compete was great, but she’d had other things to look forward to. In all their travels, she and Peggy hadn’t yet made it to France. Trish was determined that they’d make time to see the sights, enjoy the city of romance, sample the decadent food that was so legendary. She hadn’t yet figured out how to fit all that into what promised to be a ridiculous pre-race schedule when the car accident made it a non-issue.
The race was still on, but Trish had long since stopped paying attention. She left the tablet face down on the couch, the play-by-play muffled by the cushions. Having cried herself out, she imagined that she looked even worse than usual. And then Peggy came in hours after…looking gorgeous as ever with her green eyes and dark blonde hair. Hair that was now closer to brown, and looked slightly damp.
“Hey,” Peg said, sounding worn as she hung her coat on the race by the door. “How’s your day going? Have you done your exercises?”
She had, actually. Probably overdone them. A throwback to better days, when her reaction to stress nearly always involved physical activity. Yet it seemed she hadn’t gotten nearly as much of a workout as Peg had.
A bit of angst to whet the appetite, along with a very bad, very cliché food pun. So bad that I think I’ll take my leave now, and encourage you to check out tomorrow’s entry by Pascal Scott, over at R.G. Emanuelle’s site.
N.R. Dunham technically lives in Wisconsin, but spends most of her time in her own head. She writes things and blogs things and plays with her dog, and can be found on Facebook.
You, too, can get a copy of Order Up at these lovely online establishments:
Want to catch up on the other blogs on this here tour?
June 6: Andi Marquette, blogging at her site (The Situation Room).
June 7: Jove Belle, blogging at her site.
June 8: Cheyenne Blue, blogging at her site.
June 9: Brey Willows, blogging at her site.
June 10: Lea Daley, blogging at R.G. Emanuelle’s site.
June 13: Cheri Crystal, blogging at Andi Marquette’s site.
June 14: CK Combs, blogging at Butchtastic.net.
June 15: Liz McMullen, blogging at her site.
June 16: Marie Sterling, blogging at R.G. Emanuelle‘s site.
June 17: Rebekah Weatherspoon, blogging at her site.
June 20: Jaye Markham, blogging at Andi Marquette‘s site.
June 21: Emma Weimann, at Andi Marquette‘s site
June 22: N.R. Dunham, blogging at Andi’s site.
June 23: Pascal Scott, at R.G. Emanuelle‘s site.
June 24: R.G. Emanuelle, blogging at her site.