I finally finished my first book “Spell Checked.” A few days ago, I sent it to beta readers, so I could get some feedback. In the mean time I have decided to post an excerpt from the book…Please tell me what you think. Below is the temp bookcover.
They drove down the coast for about thirty minutes, stopping at a small park near the water in Kinsale. Beck had packed a picnic lunch for them consisting of cheese, wine, bread and fruit. It was peaceful as they sat on a blanket by the water, eating and watching the boats pass by.
"What do you think of Ireland so far?" Beck asked.
"It's beautiful! I find it amazing the people here have persevered over so many atrocities. I'm glad Gemma dragged me here," Mae replied, closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze off the water.
Beck stood up, gathering the rest of the picnic basket’s contents and handing all of it to Donald to take back to the car. “There are a couple of micro breweries here in Kinsale if you would care to do a little beer tasting while we are here.”
“Sounds good to me as long as it’s not stout beer, I don’t think I could ever acquire a taste for something that looks like motor oil and tasted like burnt coffee.” Mae got up from the blanket and helped Beck fold it before walking back to the car.
Beck laughed at her. “You Americans with your light beer cannot handle the real stuff.”
“Are you insinuating that I drink watered down beer because I’m a wuss?” she said defensively.
“I do not know, are you?” Beck shot back teasingly as he threw the blanket in the trunk of the car.
“Being able to hold my liquor is in my genes. I will drink your ass under the table if you give me the chance.” Mae found out during her first year at college that, for whatever reason, she just didn’t get drunk.
“Is that a challenge?” Beck asked raising his brows. He knew that as a vampire this was a challenge Mae could not win; he could metabolize alcohol about as fast as he could drink it. Aidan had tried a thousand times to out-drink him, but always failed.
“Game on!” she said as she was thinking, I would love to see Beck drunk off his ass, then maybe I could take advantage of the situation, because this sexual tension is starting to get the better of me.
Beck debated whether or not to tell Mae about the unfair odds, but vampires always love a good challenge. It was part of their nature. “Oh, well then…It is on!” he replied playfully.
Sitting at a table in the middle of the pub, they ordered another round, their tenth in the past two hours. Mae was getting tired of going to the bathroom every twenty minutes and suggested shots instead. One way or another we are going to have a winner, she thought.
Beck yelled across the pub to the bartender. “Twenty shots of Bushmills, please.” The bartender just shook his head as he poured the shots and brought them to the table.
Each of them lined up ten shots as a small crowd, mostly consisting of the pub staff, started to gather around the table. “The rules are: Ten shots…two minutes, last one to finish has to stand on the table and sing I’m a Little Teapot, agreed?” Mae challenged him with full confidence that, she could win this hands down.
“Agreed! And the winner gets to video tape it on their phone,” Beck added as he set his phone down on the table, insinuating that she would be the loser.
She thought about it for a second, then replied. “Fine, but only for their personal viewing, no posting on YouTube or Facebook.” Then they shook hands to seal the deal.
The bartender volunteered to keep time and referee. “Are you ready?…Go!” he said, in a heavy Irish accent.
The glasses were hitting the table in perfect synchronicity as they finished each shot, with the crowd cheering them on as they raced to finish. Everything went quiet when their last shots hit the table in a single clunk! The crowd all looked to the bartender to provide a definitive answer to their question…“Who won?”
“Looks like we have a tie!” exclaimed the bartender. The crowd booed at his ruling. But not wanting to miss the free entertainment, they started chanting. “Sing! Sing! Sing!”
Beck looked at Mae, wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. “It appears we shall have a riot on our hand if we deny these good people their song.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Surely you don’t intend for us to stand on the table and sing?”
“That is exactly what I am suggesting. So, are you ready to give them a little show?” Beck asked as he stood on the chair then stepped onto the table, offering her his hand in assistance.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighed, clasping his hand and joining him on the table.
They handed their phones to bystanders to record them. A minute later they finished and bowed while the crowd cheered.
“How are you feeling?” inquired Beck, as he helped her down from the table. He had never expected to take things so far. It worried him because they had each drunk enough alcohol to make a horse pass out. Oddly enough, Mae was not only still standing but appeared completely sober.
“I feel fine except for my crushed ego and utter embarrassment,” she laughed.
“Yours and mine both,” he laughed as he paid the tab.