Read Online Triangles by Ellen Hopkins - Free Book Online Page A

Vanilla is supposed to be only the start of a themed anthology that I think about calling Essential Oils.
    ON A WEEKDAY EVENING
    Starbucks is pretty low-key.
    Easy enough to find the High
    Desert Muses . They’re the only group in the place. “Hi. I’m Holly.
    I called … Betty, I think?”
    I’m Betty. Welcome, Holly.
    She is an older woman, late
    sixties, maybe. Let me introduce everyone. There are five tonight, though Betty says the group
    has eighteen members.
    At the table is Sally, who is
    around Betty’s age. The two
    of them write romance. Bodice
    rippers, Sally claims. Good stuff.
    Sahara is a couple of years older
    than me. She’s penning a memoir
    about her time as revue dancer
    and casino guru’s wife. On the far
    side of the table is Daniel, a second-year college student, working on
    a dystopian horror. And finally,
    Bryan, who happens to teach English 170/881
    at Mik and Trace’s high school. Thus, his drive to write teen fiction.
    I sit beside Sahara and across
    from Bryan. I can’t help but notice his striking green-apple eyes. Mostly because of how they are focused on
    me. What are you writing? he asks.
    My face flares, but whether it’s due to his attention or because of what I’m writing, I’m not sure. “Um, uh …
    well, I’m just sort of getting into it, but I, uh … started a piece of erotica.” Sally is unfazed. Great market
    for that, especially if you go straight to ebook. Betty will be an excellent resource for you too. She’s penned her fair share of the spicy stuff.
    My expression must say more
    than I want it to because everyone
    laughs and Betty says, What? I may be old, but my memory’s still good.
    And my husband isn’t quite dead yet.
    Way too much information.
    But hey, if she’s willing to share
    171/881
    it, I guess I can take imagining it.
    Wait. Maybe not. But I’m laughing
    too. I think I like these people.
    AND THEY ARE, IN FACT
    Really good writers, to a one.
    Bryan’s contemporary young adult
    novel will hit kids smack where they live.
    I know, because I’ve got three living there now. Dystopian horror is not my thing, but Daniel can build an exceptional scene, one that puts you right on the edge of your hard plastic Starbucks chair.
    When I ask him where he learned to
    write like that, he says, I took creative writing at Western Nevada. You should check it out. The community college is right here in Carson. “I definitely will. Thanks.” As a general rule, I’m not much into romance either, but the bodice-ripping kind could possibly make me change my mind. And Betty’s leaves little doubt that she can write erotica. Steamy! Sahara’s writing is probably the weakest of the lot, but she can put a paragraph together, and her sensory details are vivid. Around the table, 173/881
    the critique is accurate. Not unkind, but not exactly easy, either. I could learn a lot from these people.
    SO WHY
    When they ask if I brought anything, do I shake my head? “Maybe next time.” No problem, says Betty. Most people don’t read the first time round. I hope you come back to us. This is a good group. You can trust their opinions.
    We have fun traditions too, says Bryan.
    Like going out for drinks after we finish.
    Who’s up for it tonight? His head rotates, person to person. But only Sahara says, Heck, yeah.
    The smile she gives Bryan makes me think they’ve got something going on. But when he looks at me with those riveting eyes, I find something beyond friendly attention there. Heck, yeah. “Sounds like fun.” As we start toward the door, Bryan falls in so close behind that his breath falls over my shoulder, teasing the pulse in my neck. He wears some delicious 175/881
    woodsy scent. Stop it, Holly! Never again, remember? That’s what I promised myself after that disappointing night with Grant. So why am I more than a little interested in this game?
    IT IS A GAME, PURE AND SIMPLE
    And likely dating to Victorian
    times. I’d say all the way back to
    the