sierra michaels events

I haven’t posted an excerpt from the book for a while so here’s one from chapter 12.  I have two book events coming up.  The first one is September 24th at 33rd Street Wine Bar in Fort Lauderdale, between 6:30 and 8:30.  The second is at Books and Books in Coral Gables on October 4th at 6pm.  Check out my website for more information at www.sierramichaels.com    
  
Chapter 12 excerpt:
  
Sandy winked and answered the phone. “No, this is her roommate, Cali. Would you like to see me? How about now?” She flirted, with a description of me that I would not have used. She giggled and glanced at me, took some notes, and hung up the phone. As she was hanging up I heard a knock at the door. Niccki answered as Sandy, and I remained silent.  
  
“You have a guy coming in twenty minutes or so,” Sandy said softly. “Angel worked earlier and left just before you got here. She saw four guys today.”     
 
“And what about the new girl, Samantha?”      

“She’s on her second.”      

 Niccki briefly came down to get some water, followed by someone I assumed was Samantha. She looked like a surfer, with a cute blond bob and a petite athletic body. She was barefoot and wearing pink undies and a tight white t-shirt that barely covered her B-sized breasts. She was carrying blue rubber gloves in her hand, and she threw them into the trash. She hurried out of the kitchen and reappeared wearing a white sundress covered in sunflowers.                        

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Sandy, not even acknowledging my presence.                       

“I guess that was Samantha,” I said as I looked in the trash to confirm my glove sighting. “And what’s up with the gloves?”     

 

Sandy laughed. “Yeah, she’s a strange one. I’ve seen all kinds of people in this business…none like her. She wears rubber gloves so no sperm touches her.” Sandy twirled her pen as she talked. “Guys request her based on her picture, but she has no regulars yet.”        
 
“I guess not. Rubber gloves! That can’t feel good.” I snickered and ran upstairs to get dressed and set up the room.              

sex in the city 2

 I recently had  a night out with several girlfriends to watch Sex in the City 2.  Unlike my norm when going to the movies, we decided to dress up instead of down.  We put on our best shoes, bags, capes and dresses.  Well maybe not our finest, but we still looked damn good for sitting in a dark theater for hours.  There was talk about renting a limo, but our better part of reason took over.  After all we’re not in LA or NY, just a quiet town in Florida. 

The sky opened up on my 10 minute drive to the theater. Not just a shower, but a solid thunderstorm with a deluge of rain and lightning.  I worried about Tina’s hair frizzing.  I worried about getting drenched since I never carry an umbrella.  But as I arrived the downpour subsided to a very light mist.  We took a few pictures, grabbed a supersize popcorn and eagerly shuffled into a desireable row of seats.

We loudly whispered during the previews with approval and non-approval of upcoming movies while passing around the supersize popcorn.  Everyone had a napkin to plop a serving of popcorn on our laps.  Nothing better than salt, butter and crunch for dinner.  Not to mention the laughter.

A movie like this deserves the company of many girlfriends.  One person’s laughter sparks another’s.  And it helps to have a friend with a big laugh.  A laugh that fills the room very distinguishable from any other.  One that makes you smile and chuckle when you need it. One that makes you forget and takes you into the moment.  A few hours to escape… is what I believe makes some movies so popular in our culture.

And then there was the unforgettable crowd “boo”.  A gasp.  A changing moment in the plot and film.  One obviously unapproved of in the half-empty theater.

I won’t give it away, but it had to do with something as simple as a kiss.  A kiss that broke the audience’s trust and approval.  Just a kiss but in the moment it felt like the kiss of death, the death of a relationship.  And as normal in Hollywood, by the end  it turned out good.

After the movie we all went for drinks across the street to bond and discuss the film.  We ordered cocktails and Barbara brought up “the kiss”. Is it really such a big deal to deserve a “boo?”  A character flaw?  A heartbreak?

In the mean time I was texting my husband to let him know that I was out with the girls for a few drinks after the movie.  I was half listening to the conversation while texting.  I received a text back from Brad reading, ” I don’t understand why you are going to have a kiss with the girls.” 

I almost spit out my drink when I read his text and then mine.  Apparently, I had texted  him, “going to have a kiss with the girls.”  Wait I meant drink! 

I texted back frantically. “Not a kiss, a drink! ” We all had a good laugh. 

Funny how the mind works when trying to chew gum and walk at the same time. When I got home I explained to my husband the text and the movie. I think his mind got carried away!

So have you seen the movie and what do you think of  the movie in general?  And of “the kiss.”

Chapter 10 excerpt

I drove to our new apartment with the directions Roger gave me. It was right down the street from my condo. The church was a dead giveaway, right on the corner of Ocean Park Boulevard. I parked next to Angel’s Saab in the church parking lot and walked across the street to unit 3.What is it with Roger and threes? Maybe it’s a feng shui thing. The door was locked and I noticed that there was no peephole for looking out. I rang the doorbell. Angel threw open the door and greeted me with her crooked sexy smile.  

“How did you know it was me?” I asked.  

“I saw you park, silly. What, you think I would open the door for anybody?”  

I walked in and put my bag on the kitchen counter and checked out our new apartment. Basic, yeah. No stairs inside. Two bedrooms with one bathroom in between. No TV, limited lighting, a small kitchen as you walked in, and a view of busy Ocean Park Boulevard. I could see why Angel was upset. Not the upscale apartment we were used to, but we would make do. We had a view of the parking lot, which was better than at the Marina for seeing clients arrive. Angel was doing double duty; she’d been there since noon.  

“I’ve seen four guys today and made six hundred dollars. I’m keeping more of a cut from Roger since he stuck us in this awful place.” She sat on the couch. “We’re on our own here! He won’t know.”  

“You’re right. He won’t know,” I agreed as I searched through my bag in the kitchen. “We could even rent our own place and keep all the money,”  I suggested halfheartedly.  

“Do you want to?” Angel asked.  

“I don’t know about the maintenance,” I said with concern. “I have other obligations with school. I don’t want to worry about keeping an apartment. Not to mention the legal aspects if something happens. I guess we should just stick with Roger and the apartment for now, and cross that road if we come to it.” Angel looked at me mockingly. I continued. “This is a temporary thing for me, Angel. I don’t want to get into it too deep.”  

Angel sighed. “You and school. You’re never going to make this kind of money as a…what, archaeologist? Why bother.”  

“It’s not about money. I want a normal life someday. I want to do what I enjoy. What I’m passionate about. You think you’re going to be jacking people off when you’re in your forties? Get real.” I was soft, yet firm.  

writing groups

I recently joined a local writing group. We meet at Borders every few weeks to critique and praise each other’s work, as well as offer insight and suggestions.  It started out as four women writers but one had to drop out of the group because her publishing deadline went from November to June.  Needless to say she is very busy editing her novel and had to forgo the creative group for now.  Our small group is composed of Tina, Barb and myself.  Barb is working on her second novel to be released on Kindle towards the end of summer. Tina, although published in magazines and short stories, is finishing her first book.  And I just released my first novel.  I’m looking for some feedback since I’m always striving to improve my writing.  Especially since I’ve been thinking about book number two, yet to be written.  I’m also hoping to make some long-term connections among fellow local authors.  The three of us work so well together and have strong points and diversity in writing and life, all adding to the mixture.  After only three meet-ups I feel like I’ve made some new friends.

The first two times we got lucky and found a private table in the corner of Borders where we could sit undisturbed for hours of discussion.  We all noticed at the end of our first gathering a young man directly behind us eavesdropping.  Or so it appeared since he stared at his book for hours, only turning the page once.  I guess our steamy conversation caught his ear.

At our most recent meeting we weren’t lucky enough to find our private table in the corner unoccupied.  In fact, all seats and tables in Borders were full except for “the kids corner”.  We asked an employee if she minded if we put a few chairs in a circle for our conversation.  She didn’t mind at least for the first hour.  We quietly chatted undisturbed as kids came and played behind us at the little Tonka Toy station.  Then it came to the discussion of my book.  We kept it “G” rated.  Then Tina quietly mentioned “climax” meaning the climax in my novel.  The attendant quickly ran over and suggested  they find us another table since the parents needed a place to sit while their kids browsed books and played with toys.  We left with a silent chuckle and told her we would move our conversation.  Coincidence?  I think not.

The chairs and tables were still taken, so we found a secluded corner, plopped down on the floor and continued our productive rendezvous.  It happened to be in the chick-lit section of the store.  At the end of our afternoon we admired the book covers around us, stretched our legs and agreed to meet next week .

Is anyone else in a reading group who would like to share their experience?

Dark Diva Review

Latest review from Dark Diva Reviews

Deb’s Review: Intimate Encounters by Sierra Michaels immediately drew me into the characters and scenes of the sensual massage business and the struggles of the girls working at the apartment. The characters are very likable and the book is well written. It also delves into issues such as career choices, college life, suicide, guilt, and friendships. I highly recommend this book because it’s a very easy read and after the first chapter, I couldn’t put it down.

The main character, Cali, is a student paying her way through school and I found myself laughing at the interactions between her and her friends. She was easy to connect with as I was reading the story and I think Ms. Michaels wrote this role and plot line with this objective in mind. So as a reader, be prepared to connect and feel the intense emotions Cali is dealing with in each scene.

In addition, I enjoyed the place and subject matter that Cali was studying because it was fun and fascinating, at least in my opinion. This story line has many different elements or components, such as surviving in the real world, feeling of pressure to succeed, emotional battles, friendships old and new, and Intimate Encounters. In essence, it has all that and a bag of chips. The imagery and descriptors used to describe the places they traveled is amazing to the point that I could easily picture it in my mind as I read along. Moreover, the landscapes described in the story sounded breathtakingly beautiful.

I have to ask Ms. Michaels, why this plot line because it is an interesting one. Will the other girls get a book? Will Cali, if you do more books have a cameo in them? The girls are just so much fun. I also would love to see Cali find her true love. {I know, I cannot help but want that for her.}

I have to say if you want a sweet and sexy read then Intimate Encounters is a must for your book collection! Sierra Michaels is a fresh delight for this reviewer! I cannot wait to read what’s next for her.

Rated 5 Delightful Divas by Deb!

 

http://ddrreviews.blogspot.com/2010/04/intimate-encounters-by-sierra-michaels.html

Chapter 9 Excerpt: Palenque, Chiapas

We got the rental car and headed off, agreeing to hit the museum when we returned to Mexico City. Ray glowed with eagerness to show me his favorite ruins and old friends. Mexico City was much more crowded than I had anticipated—traffic jams, smog, cars honking, people crossing in front of traffic. The countryside was a welcome relief. A Mexican cowboy galloped by on a beautiful chocolate horse following a heard of cattle.                 

“You are going to love Moses,” he said as he reached for my hand. “And his wife is really amazing. She just got back from India, where she was studying yoga with a master.”                             

That sounds cool,” I said as I stared out the window. I took in all the beauty of the jungle and the small villages.                   

The hours flew by as the scenery and conversation flowed. We decided not to stop along the way and save any sidetracks for the return trip. As we arrived at our lodge, Ray remarked at how the property had changed. “Moses added new cabins and landscaping,” he said, surprised, as we entered the forested area.                    

“This is really remote,” I commented.                    

“That’s the point. Just you and me.”
  
Oh, shit,  I thought, what did I get myself into? We found Moses and he greeted us with a smile. 
 
“Ray, how are you, my friend? It’s been so long.” He shook Ray’s hand while giving him a loose hug.     
 
Moses, this is Cali.”      
  
“Hi,” I said with a smile as we shook hands.      
  
Moses was an older, distinguished Mexican man in his late sixties. He had an authentic warm smile that made me smile in return.       
  
“Come, come, you must see the changes we’ve made.” We walked past several newly constructed villas hidden in the jungle to the central courtyard. It was simple and natural, loosely landscaped with tropical plants and large palm trees among wooden benches and a stone walkway. Several young hippie-dressed Americans and Europeans were hanging out in the garden.  This is an interesting place, I thought.         
     
“Come, come, let me show you your room.” He showed us our villa and told us to meet him at the restaurant after we settled in.
  
 The room followed the same theme of naturally fitting into the environment. It was basic but had all the amenities, with the exception of the shower being outside.”This could be interesting,” I said to Ray. “We even get to shower with nature.”
 
He patted my ass, threw me on the bed, and gave me a warm, sexy kiss. “I thought you were a nature girl. You Jane, me Tarzan.” 
 
I laughed, then gently pushed him off me. “Come, come,” I said mocking Moses. “Let’s check out the rest of the property.” I pulled him toward the door.  

We met back up with Moses at the Restaurante Vegetariano. Ray wasn’t kidding; it was a purely vegetarian restaurant with a gypsy-type ambiance, half library with books everywhere and tables uniquely decorated with Mayan motifs scattered about.       

“My wife cooks the food herself,” said Moses.
  
 “I would love to meet your wife,” I said, looking around the room for her.    
  
“She is in the tree house. Let’s go find her.” We walked through the garden and past several stand-alone villas to the tree house. It looked like something from Alice In Wonderland. The outside was painted bright blue, green, pink and purple, all ebbing and flowing into each other. Four narrow floors were stacked upon each other, with the top floor being a combination sundeck and garden. A giant mushroom-shaped Tiki topped the center of the sundeck. No wonder hippies hang out here, I thought. It was like walking into a fantasy scene developed by Lewis Carroll. The tree house was surrounded by ginger plants, papaya, mango, and coconut trees.
  
 We proceeded into the house. To my surprise, it was Moses and his wife, Ana’s, home.  

Chapter 8: Excerpt

I put my material away, locked up the lab, grabbed some coffee to go, and headed home. On the drive, I thought about Geoffrey more than usual. He was brilliant—he had a Ph.D. from Stanford—and he seemed to have a love for life when we were together so many years ago. At that time, he showed no signs of depression. I loved him more than anything in the world, and I was devastated when we broke up and he left for Australia. When he returned a year later he was a different man and I had moved on, but I still wanted him in my life. When he needed me I was there for him. Except for the night of his suicide. He had called a few days earlier and asked me to come over and hold him. His depression was getting worse, and had been since he returned from his sabbatical. He tried medication and it didn’t work for him. I tried to convince him to try different types of antidepressants, that one was bound to work for him. “Try walking,” I once naively suggested to him, thinking exercise might help.  

    

The last time I talked to him I was really busy with school and could not do the forty-five-minute drive to Pasadena. I told him to hang in there and I would see him next week when things calmed down for me. I will never forget that cruel phone call I got a few days later. “Cali, I’m a friend of Geoffrey’s,” the man said with a somber voice. “He was found dead this morning in his house.” I began to shake. “Was it drugs?” I asked. “No, a gun. Your name was on a list of people to call. There will be a memorial service on campus. I’ll call you back with the date and time when I find out more,” he said before hanging up the phone. I screamed and cried and walked to the store to buy cigarettes, a habit that I had managed to quit just months before. I wanted to go to a bar and just drink all day, but I pulled myself together and went to school, sat in the Japanese garden, and contemplated life. Tom and Sasha stopped by the garden to offer their condolences; so did Len and Kyle. I was so used to going to campus that I didn’t know how to stay home and cry. I had to be somewhere, and the garden seemed like that somewhere. Death was sad enough, but suicide brought guilt, a feeling that I still had driving home this evening. I was nervous yet excited about getting my tattoo.      

 

   

  

  

 

 

press release Intimate Encounters

 

Intimate Encounters take a bold look into the sensual massage business

Emerging author Sierra Michaels is known for breaking the mold in her own life. Now she takes that same confidence and pioneering spirit into her debut novel, Intimate Encounters, a bold new fiction book about the inner workings of the sensual massage business. The book is slated for national release, March 25th, from Black Rose Writing.

Intimate Encounters serves up an often humorous, yet also balanced, serious behind-the-scenes look at the sensual massage business and the unique and sometimes pathological characters that work at and visit the apartment, where several young woman share. Although Intimate Encounters is a fictional account, Michaels said she based a lot of the novel on her own experience of living in Los Angeles and on her good friend, who worked in the business. Like the lead character, Cali, Michaels was a graduate student who achieved a Master’s degree in Anthropology with a concentration in Archaeology – something not common for women even in this modern age. Also not the norm is this groundbreaking book that explores a business few of us know much about.

Intimate Encounters follows Cali as she pursues her master’s thesis on California archaeology. What the other students and professors must not know is that by night she makes money – very good money – giving massages to strangers. At first, Cali truly enjoys working at the apartment, since it brings out the sensual side she lacks as a student. She forms a close friendship with two of the girls and a few of her regular customers, but struggles with the fact that she is doing something illegal, dangerous, and looked down upon in American society.

Shedding a light on how society looks at this profession is something that drives Michaels’ passion. It is her hope that after reading this book, people don’t judge and have a better understanding for why some women choose this path. Intimate Encounters is an intriguing portrait that depicts the financial allure, yet realistically balances the possible danger involved and consequences that may come with such a choice. Michaels invites readers to open up their minds and perhaps prejudgments, and take themselves where most have never gone in Intimate Encounters.

 

About the author

Sierra Michaels was born in Cincinnati then moved to Los Angeles as a young adult.  Because of her passion for culture, both past and present, she pursued a Master’s degree in Anthropology with a concentration in Archaeology. During her years in college she had the opportunity to travel widely and study culture first hand.  She also realized that Los Angeles gave her a unique opportunity to observe the many subcultures within the city.  It is one of these subcultures that inspired her to write Intimate Encounters. Michaels currently resides in Florida with her husband, her loving diva dog Yoda and three rebellious cats.  Most of her writing takes place at her second home in Bimini, a small island in the Bahamas.  Intimate Encounters is her debut novel.

Chapter 7 Excerpt: Just another day

The sun was rising as I drove from my condo to the Holy Cow Café, where I grabbed some coffee, and continued to the apartment. The place was the same as I left it last night, fairly clean and quiet. Ed was on time and I was still half asleep as the peaceful music of Sarah McLachlan played quietly on the CD player. I spent extra time rubbing my chest on his back as I sensually moved to the music.  I feel more sensual in the morning, I thought. After a few songs, I asked Ed to turn over.  

“You are even more beautiful than last night,” he said. 

I smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I whispered. I rubbed some oil on my hands and proceeded to slowly rub his chest. He closed his eyes and stroked my thigh. I was still feeling really sensual so I spent more time than usual on his chest. I circled his nipples with my fingers and played with his chest hair. I made patterns in the oil, following the flow of his small curly hairs. His eyes were still closed and he had a warm smile on his face as he continued to lightly stroke my inner thigh. I slowly and firmly stroked his larger than average member.  Everything’s bigger in Texas, I thought. He released silently. I wiped him off and he asked me to lay by his side for a minute, so I did.  

“I have to leave today, but I’ll be back in a few weeks. Can I call you on your cell next time I’m in town?” he asked. 

“Of course,” I said. 

“Do you see many guys?” 

“Well, it’s the nature of the business, but I only do this part-time to help me through graduate school.” 

“And where are you going to school?” 

“UCLA. I’m studying geology,” I lied. 

“Good for you,” he continued as he got dressed. “You seem like a nice girl and I would like to see you more often.” 

I don’t like to give most of the guys too much information, but Ed seemed harmless. When he left I put on my running clothes and went for a short run along the beach, leaving my car at the apartment. 

My first copy of Intimate Encounters

Wow!  I physically held my book yesterday and the gamut of emotions that went through me was unexpected.  Excitement, glee, accomplishment, and fear.  Why fear?  I read a fellow blogger’s post the other day and I’m comforted in knowing I’m not alone in experiencing this complex emotion as a writer.  After all, I am putting myself out there for rejection, criticism and judgement.  I don’t usually care what people think, but deeply ingrained inside the human mind emotions exist no matter how we try to suppress or change them.  So I’m learning to embrace this thing called fear and get beyond it to make me a better writer.

Fear aside, excitement is the emotion that shined through.  Excited about the possibilities for this book and for my career as a writer.  Can I make it as a fiction writer?  In many ways that will depend on feedback from Intimate Encounters.  Or not, I’ll probably just pick up my laptop in a few weeks a begin another story. A sense of accomplishment flowed through me as I held my book.  At that point all the hard work writing and editing over the years seemed to have paid off.  Not in a monetary manner since I would have to sell millions to really make money but more self-satisfaction from seeing the end product.  I decided to celebrate the occasion with a few friends, a couple of beers, a bottle of wine and a huge hangover.  Life is good!