Sunday, April 29, 2007

Going Back to My Roots--AJ's Serendipity


So before I struck out on my originals, I wrote fan fiction. Yes, yes i did. I know there are those who look down up on it, but I can say writing fanfic helped me tweak the mechanics of my own writing, to find my voice and rhythm, so I definitely don't knock it.

That being said, I have started a new fan fic/free read. Some of you may be familiar with the author Aliyah Burke, but if you aren't you should. She is phenomenal. I read her A Knight's Vow and loved it immensely, and then I discovered she had more books, so I gobbled them up as well. She has a series of books about men from a Navy SEAL team called the Megalodons. She has been gracious in allowing me to write a story about one of the minor characters from this series: Alejandro (AJ) Melonakos, cousin of Dimitri Melonakos, who is a member of the SEAL team. I will post the link of the story in my blog and post it to my google group so you can read the updates. I want to say thank you again to Aliyah Burke and hope you all enjoy!


AJ's Serendipity

This is the story of Alejandro Kyriakos Melonakos, a cousin of Dimitri “Merlin” Melonakos, a member of SEAL Team Seventeen, the Megalodon Team. The story is told from AJ’s perspective. Come join them for the five days in Greece while AJ tries to convince visiting American, Samara Grossman, to let go of her inhibitions and embrace her own self-worth and ultimately, their intertwined destinies.


He spotted her in the market as he was shopping for fresh ingredients for his restaurant. She was clearly an American, for Americans tended to stick out like sore thumbs, especially in Greece. It was the way she carried herself; cautious, but not nearly cautious enough, as if someone wouldn’t have the unmitigated gall to approach and do something untoward to her. She was looking at the wares being sold at Monastiraki. It was clear she wasn’t really interested in buying anything, but she gave the vendors shy smiles and nodded when appropriate. Before he knew what he was doing, he had paid for his purchases and began following the woman.

She was a black woman, her skin not as dark as he had seen with other women, but there was a dark caramel hue to her that shone beautifully against the pink sundress she was wearing. The straps were thin, and her chest seemed bountiful and full in the bodice. Her cleavage was stunning, he thought, and her skin seemed so smooth.

Her hair was in that natural Afro style, and there was a cliff rose flower tucked behind her ear. She was by no means the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and her body probably wouldn’t grace a magazine cover in the near future, but she was his very definition of a woman: soft, lush, delicately strong. He thought her adorable, especially since she seemed oblivious to the looks other men were giving her. Not oblivious in the sense she knew she was getting the attention and was patently ignoring it, but in a way that she seemed not even to think it a possibility she could enchant someone the way she was. It was as if she needed someone to help her discover all the treasures she possessed, and he was nothing if not an ardent and enthusiastic explorer of the female form.