July 21, 2008 | Book One, Book Stuff, DA Series, Draven Atreides, Life in General, Miss Snitch Mondays
I had started Miss Snitch Mondays in order to introduce the public to the Draven Atreides series. I began posting the unedited version of Book One in May in honor of its release in April 2009. However, after recently attending a writing class, I realize I still have a lot to learn about writing and being a good writer. I’ll be enrolling in a writing program in September that will take 1-1/2-2yrs to complete. I want the series to be a success and I believe that taking this program will help me to achieve that goal. In light of this recent decision, I’ve pushed back the release date of Book One to April 2010. I still plan to post excerpts (which will end around this time next year) and you will still be able to sign up on the Pre-Order Notification List.
Poe and I reply in unison. I give her a look of disbelief before turning to the man.
“Yeah, okay, that would be a hell no. I don’t do needles. Can I swap it out with something else?” I want to know.
“Sure.” The man stands up, removes a brochure from the stack on the counter and places it in front of me. “Since you’re already getting a facial and a body treatment, you could replace the Acupuncture consultation with another sixty minute consultation. We have six other choices that are the same price. You can choose from any of our Salon Services or get a massage. We have plenty of choices there, too. You have a few minutes. Why don’t you take a seat and browse?” he suggests.
“Thanks,” I say, picking up the brochure and carrying it with me to the chair by the window.
Poe follows and throws herself in the chair next to me.
“You have no sense of adventure,” she says huffily.
“My adventure draws the line at needles,” I retort, reading the massage descriptions. The man’s not kidding. There are fourteen different types of massages to choose from.
“The needles are in sterilized packets, Dray, and are thrown away immediately after use,” Poe points out.
“How wonderful for them,” I reply dryly.
“My Mom says it’s perfectly safe. It’s an alternative form of healing. It works wonders, I hear,” Poe explains.
“Well, you’re obviously not hearing me when I say that I don’t need to feel the alternative wonders of needles. Why don’t we skip the whole needle thing and get our nails done?” I suggest. “At least, that way we can hang together.”
Poe looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Hey, yeah. That sounds cool. But I think I’d rather get a pedicure.”
“I can handle that.”
“Let’s get to it. I want to get started,” Poe says, clapping her hands together and hopping up out of the chair.
I stand up with her and walk over to the counter.
“So, you made a decision?” the woman asks with the same warm smile.
“Yeah, I’m going to get a manicure,” I answer, sliding the brochure across the counter.
“And I’m going to replace the needle thing with a pedicure,” Poe adds.
“Royale or Express?” the woman inquires.
“What’s the difference?” Poe wants to know.
“Express is thirty minutes, Royale is sixty. But with the Royale you get a hand and arm massage and a paraffin dip,” the woman explains.
Poe’s eyes light up. “Ooooh. Is that like the hot wax stuff that you peel off and your hands feel all soft?” she asks in one breath.
The woman laughs and nods. “Yep. That’s the one.”
“I definitely want the Royale Pedicure, then,” Poe says.
“Me, too,” I agree. “But the manicure one.”
“All right, ladies. You’re all set. Here are the keys to your lockers. Go on through the door and Marla will get you started. Enjoy your stay.”
Marla turns out to be a short Phillipino woman with a kind, motherly smile.
“Hello girls. Welcome. Are you ready to get started?” she asks.
Poe and I return her smile. “More than ready,” Poe responds fervently.
Clasping her hands, Marla smiles even wider. “Well, then let me take you back and show you around.”
She steps around the desk and immediately stops in front of a long vanity counter.“When you are done for the day, you can get ready here. As you can see, we have supplied you with everything you need,” Marla says.
She’s right. The counter is lined with hair dryers, curling irons, smaller magnifying mirrors, hair spray, hair gel, Kleenex and lotion dispensers; There are four modern and uncomfortable-looking wooden stools tucked underneath the counter.
Marla lifts her hand to her left and says, “You will change here. We supply you with robes, slippers and towels.”
Three dressing rooms with slatted wooden doors are standing open to reveal a toilet, slippers on the floor and a robe hanging on a hook.
Marla raises her right arm and gestures down the hall. “Here’s the steam room and the showers. The jacuzzi is at the end of the hall. You are more than welcome to use these as well.”
Poe and I peer down the hall and see four tiled shower stalls with frosted glass doors. The burbling sounds of water can be heard from the jacuzzi, tucked away in a corner by the window.
“Please change now and I will show you where you can place your things,” Marla says.
Poe makes a sound of glee and heads for one of the dressing rooms. I laugh and close myself in the one next to her. I can feel Poe’s excitement and, for the first time in almost a year, I feel it, too. The ivory robe is baby soft with deep pockets and falls to mid-calf. The matching slippers are just as soft, making me curl my toes inside them. Both items are embossed with a family crest. Whether it’s real or just for show, I don’t know, but I have no doubt they’re made of good quality material. I roll up my clothes and stuff my shoes in my tote bag.
“Oh my God, these are so soft,” Poe gushes, rubbing her hands up and down the sides of the robe. “What is this, like, cashmere or something?”
“Couldn’t tell ya, but I have a serious love jones for the slippers,” I comment, scrunching my toes up again.
Poe laughs. “I know. Gosh, this is fantastic. I wish I could do this every week,” she says with a wistful sigh.
“It gets old pretty quick,” I say without thinking, then promptly wish I can take the words back.
“Like you would know,” Poe scoffs, quickly running a brush through her hair before shoving it in her voluminous purse.
I nervously fumble with my belt, feeling my face flush at my verbal mistake. I feel as though my heart is about to beat itself from my chest.
“Yeah, well, I can imagine. I mean, there’s only so much stuff you can do,” I comment, trying to sound casual.
“This place has a lot of stuff. It would probably take over a month to try it all.”
I nod. “Yeah, no kidding.” I almost faint in relief when Marla comes around the corner and smiles at us.
“Come this way, ladies, and I will show you the lockers,” she instructs.
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