Since last week was the release of my newest work; the first in the Loving Her series: The Ballerina, I thought it would be neat to give y'all a teaser.
As you know, I typically do the Page 69 trial with my novels. Therein lies the problem. You see, these are novellas. And the Ballerina does not have 69 pages.
What is a girl to do?
I tried double spacing it. Page 69 falls in the middle of two different sections.
ARGH!!!!!So, I just went with what I believe to be a pretty good teaser.
Hope y'all enjoy! ;)
“Wow,” Jen whispered as she admired the pointe shoes Liz had just worn in the performance. The pink satin held a secret. They appeared soft and delicate, but the toe of the shoe was hard and square. The elastic seemed to constrict, rather than expand. These shoes were unlike anything Jen had ever seen before.
She knocked on the toe of the shoe. “It’s hard.” She said in sheer amazement.
“Yeah,” Liz replied. “Those are made by a Russian company. I prefer the Russian shoes because they’re harder than then the French of Italian shoes. They use more paste and material to make a harder box and shank. They’re sturdier for me, they feel more secure. And, I don’t know… I just like how they feel.”
“You like how they feel?!”
“Comparatively speaking!” Liz chuckled.
“These seem…painful.”
“They are. It’s really hard when you first start. Your feet bleed and stuff. You eventually build up to it, sort of. I mean, it still hurts a bit, but you just deal with it. It’s never like walking on a cloud, though. It’s not what it looks like.”
“It did look so effortless watching you up there.”
“Yeah, it’s not. It’s pain and discomfort. But you just smile and keep on going.”
“Wow! You know, you hear about how high heels are bad for your feet. These must be murder!”
“They’re not the best.”
“What do your feet look like?” Jen asked curiously.
Liz, sitting with her feet tucked underneath her legs, started to look uncomfortable. “Oh, well…they’re not pretty.”
“No? What do the shoes do to you?”
“They just wreak havoc on your feet. That’s all.”
“Can I see?”
“They’re not pretty,” Liz repeated.
“I’d like to see.”
Liz took in a deep breath. Slowly, she uncurled. With trepidation, she gradually slid her feet forward.
Liz’s long, lean, infinite legs stretched before her. Jen studied her feet. Boney and bruised, they were anything but attractive. The bottoms of her feet were layered sheets of callouses. Her toes appeared misshapen, flat and squished together. Even her toenails were discolored and appeared unhealthy. On her feet, Liz’s normally fair skin was red, cracked and peeling. Blood blisters and wounds of all sorts were sprinkled all over the tops of her feet. Indeed, there was nothing pretty or dainty about them. “See, they’re ugly.” She said, and she quickly hid them again.
“Wow. I am so sorry.” Jen said softly.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Liz looked down at the bed, keeping her gaze away from Jen.
“But…I just don’t get why.”
“Why I would knowingly do this to myself?” Liz’s twang echoed through the dark room.
“Well, yeah.”
“Because it’s what I love. I just feel like I was born to dance. It’s a small sacrifice to pay for pursuing your dream. I just wish I wasn’t so ugly.”
“You?! Are you kidding?! You’re beautiful!”
“But my feet…”
“They are beautiful in their own way. The fact that they are the way they are because of you pursuing your dream and your passion makes them beautiful,” Jen said. “Come here,” she rose off the bed.
She took Liz by the hand and led her to the full length mirror hanging on the wall of the hotel room. “Look at you.” Jen gently led Liz in front of her. “You have the most amazing, beautiful red hair. Your eyes are the most unusual but simply gorgeous shade of green I have ever seen. You are tall and lean. Your body is pure muscle.” Jen wrapped her arms around Liz’s waist. “Your legs are long and slender. And your feet are just perfect.” She softly kissed the nape of Liz’s neck. “Just perfect,” she whispered again.
