Love all year long contest

Writing Contest!

I'm participating in another writing contest for my completed manuscript. I'm super pumped about this contest because it's all about LOVE! Got to love me some LOVE!

I'd appreciate you taking a moment to read over my 750-word love scene and let me know if I can improve my writing, scene, hook, etc. Basically I want to know if you want to read more! Or if there are any glaring mistakes.

The rules: To enter this contest, you should post a love scene from a finished manuscript on your blog this Sunday, June 12th. The excerpt must have a maximum length of 750 words, but it could be less if it ends on a hook (remember, sometimes less really is more). There is no minimum word count. The scene we're looking for can show love in all kinds of ways, in all kinds of genres. The scene should be romantic, but not necessarily a kissing scene. We're looking for any kind of love here. Go here if you want to play!

The fabulous agent, Weronika Janczuk, of Lynn C. Franklin Associates, Ltd. will be judging!

Wish me luck!

Title: WANTED: GROOM FOR MY $100K WEDDING
Genre: Women's Fiction/Contemporary Romance
Manuscript word count: 90,000

“Reservations for Jack Reid and Ella Dirks,” Jack explains to check in.

The short redhead with the turned-up nose hands him two cards. “Room nineteen-twenty-four, our fabulous royal suite. We’ve been expecting you two.”

My eyes bug out. “Royal suite?”

“There must be some sort of mistake,” Jack interjects. “We should be under two separate reservations.”

“Yes, we’re on Good Morning America tomorrow,” I explain in a panic as I grip the counter.

“Honey, I know who you are,” declares the redhead with a stern tone. “Your wedding is in seven weeks and this is your fiancé.” She points to Jack with an authoritative finger.

I shake my head. “No. No. You have it all wrong. I’m looking for a fiancé. This is just the editor-in-chief of the magazine sponsoring the dream wedding…”

She frowns and lets out a sigh as she taps her acrylics along the keyboard, shaking her head. I admire her careful bob as it manages to stay in perfect form. “Nope. That’s not what we were told. Enjoy your stay.” She slides to her right and waves over the next customer.

I open my mouth.

Jack’s large hand hooks my wrist. “It’ll be fine.” He pushes me along by the small of my back. “There’ll be plenty of room in the suite and we need to go to bed anyway.” He glances at his watch. “We're getting up in less than four hours.”

As we enter the three-bedroom suite, I realize Jack is right. Plenty of room. My eyelids grow heavy with each blink. I walk into my room and plop my suitcase on the large bed, falling back onto it. “I can’t believe I’m going to be on Good Morning America,” I say as my head adheres to the row of luxury pillows. I pump my feet along the mattress and let them slide over the Egyptian cotton sheets.

I roll to my side and glance at the clock. Fear creeps in as each minute ticks by. What questions will they ask about my wedding? Will they bring up how Chance left me? Will I say too much? Will America laugh at me? Will I cry…and on television? I swallow hard. A knock at my door startles me.

Jack walks in with a pillowcase wrapped around his head, blow dryer in hand, standing on his tiptoes. “Hello there Ella Dirks,” he speaks into the blow dryer sweetly. “It’s me Melissa Rycroft from Good Morning America and The Bachelor. I have a couple questions about your search for the perfect groom,” the pitch in his voice raises. He tilts the blow dryer from his mouth to my lips.

I roll over and laugh hysterically in my pillow.

“What? My hair not dark enough?” He showcases his hands over the pillowcase and smoothes the material. “My abs not flat enough like hers?” His mocked dainty voice catches and he coughs.

I continue laughing and he joins in, taking a seat next to me on the bed. I catch my breath and sit up. “Ohh, if you’re Melissa, does that mean you were also on Dancing with the Stars and have to dance for me?” I jump up and race over to the large sixty-inch flatscreen in the other room. I flip through the channels until I find one of the bumping music stations. I turn up the volume. “Okay, Melissa. Let’s dance.”

I begin pumping out the Roger Rabbit. He grins and pushes me aside as he moves his arms like a sprinkler. I grab my abs and let my head fall back in laughter. A slow song comes on and my head snaps forward. We both freeze. I bite my lip and study the freshly vacuumed carpet. Jack spins me around and pulls me in, holding me tightly against him. We sway back and forth and for a moment the world stops. I feel safe as I breathe in his wonderful soap smell and rest my head against his chest, listening to his heart drill against it.

As if something entered his mind, he steps back. “I’m sorry about that.” He clears his throat. “I’m sure you’re going to find a real nice groom, Ella. You’ll do great tomorrow. We should probably go to bed.” His brown eyes soften as he searches mine.

I shift my eyes to the floor, wishing he didn’t pull away, but push the thought from my mind. Would my future groom be watching me tomorrow on television? “Yeah, you’re probably right." We both walk into our rooms and close the doors. I spend the next few hours dreaming of my one-hundred-thousand-dollar wedding and the most perfect groom waiting to find me.

THANK YOU! And good luck to all the participants!!!