A teaser excerpt from THE FIFTEENTH MINUTE

Hi readers! I'm hard at work on Lianne's book, (Ivy Years #5). And Lianne is a hoot! Can't stop laughing. Lianne has a way of ending up in embarrassing situations. She just can't help herself.

Anywho, I thought you'd enjoy this moment with Lianne and Bella... 



I lean out of bed just far enough to grab the FedEx envelope that arrived yesterday afternoon. When I tear it open, a fat script tumbles onto the quilt.

Nightfall. Screenplay by Roland Sebring. Based on the novel by Helen Botts.

I wondered what Helen Botts will think about Princess Vindi showing some skin. If the scene they've written is truly awful, I could appeal to her. I’ve met Helen Botts, and she’s a lovely silver-haired librarian type, who now drives a Bentley. I suppose if Helen Botts doesn’t like the movie, she can weep into her royalty statement.

Let the skimming commence. They’ve opened the film at the castle gates. Lucifer has found a way to appear like a storm cloud over the city, terrifying the children.

Yada yada yada.

Princess Vindi’s first line is on page eleven. “I am not interested in your excuses, Lord Shelter. The time for excuses has passed.”

Sigh. It could be worse. In fact, I’m sure it gets worse. I keep flipping.

The sex scene is on page 132.

They grope, caress, moan and fondle. Vindi’s robe slides off her velvet breast. Valdor ducks his head to catch the pink teat carefully in his fangs. The camera pans downward to reveal clothing falling to the floor. With a heated rush of sexual urgency, Vindi mounts Valdor. The soundtrack rises with the keening writhings of intercourse. Valdor’s shouts are increasingly loud. The camera pans Vindi’s milky white, heaving bosom as she screams in consummation. Cut to Vindi’s shuddering face. Valdor moans deliciously, pulling Vindi softly into his embrace.

I let out a shriek.

A few seconds later Bella comes tearing through the door, mouth gaping. Her eyes skate around the room until she finds me in my bed. “What is it? A spider?” She’s wearing a Harkness Soccer T-shirt and her bathrobe.

I fall back onto my pillow. “There’s no spider, Bella. I wish that was the problem.”

“What is it then?

Words can’t do the problem justice, so I just hand the script over. Her eyes scan the page, and I know exactly when she’s found the object of my horror. Because she bursts out laughing.

“Stop,” I whine. “It wouldn’t be funny if it was you.”

“Oh, honey,” she giggles. “I’m sorry. Do you really have a velvet breast?”

I throw my stuffed bear at her. “You mock my pain. I can’t shoot a sex scene. And I really can’t shoot a sex scene with Kevin Mung.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t that boy take a screen name? He’s pretty to look at. But I always think of mung beans.”

“Stay on topic.” I grab the script from Bella. “This is ten times worse than I thought it could be.” I feel sick just imagining a roomful of leering cameramen, and me with no clothes.

And Kevin. Shoot me.

“Let’s break down the problem.” Bella sits on the bed. “Is it the boob shot? Is it the scream upon consummation? Is it the mounting? Is it the awful, awful writing?”

“It’s… all of the above!"

The Fifteenth Minute will be published this fall.