For The Love Of…Funny Excerpts by Artemis Crow

When I got the first round of edits back, my editor had made the comment that the end of the first chapter had done such a great job of setting up the rest of the book, even though it was part of a funny scene. In fact, the whole first chapter, she said, did the job. Seriously, I was so excited to get that news, but it made me stop. There’s a lesson to be learned there, and in future books I need to make sure I’m doing as good a job setting up the story in the first chapter as I did with this book. 

But this post is about funny excerpts. So here is the last part of chapter one and the transition from funny to serious: 

(Thea) shouldered the big leather bag and started down the hall for the front door when a scream echoed from deep underground.

Dropping the tote, she ran into the kitchen and opened the short, narrow, wooden door that led to the basement. She gathered her skirt in one hand, ran down the steps, and to the Alice in Wonderland-sized door that opened to a small, low-ceiling, rectangular room carved out of rock. She lifted the wooden platform with an old chair bolted to it, leather straps nailed on the arms and legs. They’d wondered about the history of this room; wondered but didn’t want to know about a secret room with that kind of chair. 

She raced down the next set of steps, the layers of cool air growing colder with each foot she descended until she reached the sub-basement. The frigid air cooling her adrenaline-fueled sweat as she ran into the cave her mother and grandmother had uncovered years ago and set up as a shelter for a possible attack that Thea had grown to believe was a figment of their fevered imaginations.

She slid to a stop at the three sensory deprivation tanks sitting in one corner of the cave. “What are you two doing?” she asked, but her question was ignored.

The lights were soft, but even the dim light couldn’t hide her mother and grandmother, naked and sweaty, in a gladiatorial clench. The two women grappled, their silver-gray hair billowing like cotton candy around their contorted, red faces.

“You’re going to get into that tank if I have to knock you in the head and throw you in like a fish into a bowl!” Thea’s mom yelled with a shove for emphasis.

“You haven’t got the stones, figuratively or literally, to do more than wag a finger and grouse!” her Gram fired back. “And I’m not getting in there without my new happy toys!”

“You mean your dildos?” mom asked.

Thea covered her face with both hands to hide her hot face and her laughter. It was one thing to know your parents and grandparents had a sex life. It was an entirely different matter to have a grandmother who bought every waterproof sex toy on the market and stashed them in her tank to prevent “boredom” while she floated for hours.

“Stop, just stop, both of you!” Thea finally managed to get out.

Both women stopped shoving and grunting and faced Thea.

“What’s the problem, dear?” her mom asked. “I thought you’d left for the Salem Witchapalooza already.”

“Aw, jeez. At least put on your robes,” Thea said, looking away. “You know it’s called Haunted Happenings. Is this what you two do when I’m out? Recreate scenes from the Roman Coliseum?”

Gram giggled as she belted her robe. “No, but I do have an XXX-rated recreation of the movie Gladiator. Sadly, without Russell Crowe.”

Thea shook her head. “Then what are you fighting about?”

“Your mother isn’t happy that I bought new dildos—”

“Again. You bought new dildos, again,” her mom said.

“Well, they’re waterproof this time, so these should last a good long while.”

“And that video player?” her mom asked, her fists planted on her hips.

Gram swept her hands over her hair, trying to tame it, but it bounced back tall and wild as ever. “It’s a waterproof Kindle so I can watch all my movies—”

“Porn,” her mom said.

“And read all my books.”

“Erotica and porn.”

Gram slowly turned to face her daughter. “So I can entertain myself in the tank.”

Thea’s mom threw up her hands. “Watching NOVA is entertainment. Reading Shakespeare or romance novels, that’s entertainment. What you’re doing—”

“—is fun. Have you forgotten fun, Carys?” Gram asked, her voice soft with sadness and love. She stepped closer to her daughter and gently touched her face, the sass and irritation gone.

Carys covered Gram’s hand and closed her eyes, sagging into the compassion. “You can’t forget what you’ve never had,” she whispered.

“Oh. My. Goddess,” Thea said. “You two are killing me. I can’t cry, or I’ll mess up Rena’s makeup, and she’ll chew me out for days.” She had to break through the sadness enveloping the women because it was a universal truth that they didn’t do sad well…at all.

“Mom, let Gram have her toys and be grateful she doesn’t try to knit in the tank or some other hobby that would cost a fortune and clog up the pipes.”

Carys turned away from Gram’s touch and opened the lid of her tank.

“And Gram, please, ease up on the porn talk, okay? Howl at the moon, orgasm yourself into an early grave, but stop torturing mom.”

Carys picked up a pair of waterproof, noise-canceling headphones and put them on, letting the muffs clamp onto her ears with a pop. “So I don’t have to hear the howling and orgasming,” she said a little too loudly before climbing into the tank and throwing off her robe. It hit the floor only a moment before Carys sank naked into the salt-saturated, body-temp water and closed the lid, shutting out the world with a huff and a click.

Gram stared at the closed tank for a moment. “She needs to get laid, for all our sakes.” She flapped a frail, liver-spotted hand in Thea’s direction. “You do too, for that matter. Rustle up a pair of hotties tonight and bring them home so I can live vicariously through you.”

“You get more action in one tank session that we’ve gotten in years…combined.”

Gram dropped her robe and opened her tank. “Dearest girl, there’s a world of difference between having a hot, sexy body pressed up against yours and watching porn with some decidedly inventive dildos to pass the time. If you haven’t figured that out by now, then I have failed as a grandmother.”

Thea rolled her eyes and pointed at the tank. “Grandmothers are supposed to teach you how to bake, tell you about what life was like in her day, defy all the rules to spoil you rotten, not teach you about sex. Get inside, now, or I’m going to be late. As excuses go, I don’t think having a debate with my grandmother about sex with men versus inanimate objects is going to fly.”

Gram sat in the tank and nailed Thea with the same look she’d given Carys: love and sadness. “And when are you going to fly, little one?”

Gram shut the lid before Thea could say, “Never.”

May your words flow freely,

Artemis

The Zodiac Assassins series
Available on Amazon Kindle and Print, Nook and Kobo

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