Divine: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

rules, but I hold back.
    Yes, these sites have rules. You can’t
flood the wall with the same thing over and over (Kimmy), and don’t beg people
to buy your books (Kimmy).
    I admit it, I’m a competitive bitch and
some of my fellow authors; like Kimmy, make me want to pull my hair out because
people love them so much.
    She writes what I call PG-13 Kid Romance.
Not much sex, the women hold out, a deep emotional bond forms between the
characters... they have weak libidos, never fucking until the end... nothing
like real life. My books are one-hand-two-finger reads that get you hot and
heavy from Chapter One. How did she get accepted into the Sluts?
    I slam my laptop shut and head for the
kitchen for a Miller Light.
    My life is meh .
    Mediocre and uninteresting.
    I should just go ahead and do it, kill
someone, brush away the meh for a while.
    Mehhhhh.
    I walk around my living room with a beer
in hand sounding like a sheep. Mehhh, bahhh, mehhh.
    My God, I’m going insane. I need some
friends.
    Everyone in my life outside of the
university and Dan are online. My author has thousands of Facebook friends, but
I have only thirty-two, real ones, people who are connected to Div. Most of
them I met in high school or college, and none of them live in the area.
They’re all back in Pittsburgh. It’s a place I’ll never return to because of
the bad memories. My mother died...
    There’s a knock on my door.
    I’m in my robe, holding a beer, making
animal noises, thinking about my dead parents at nine at night, and there’s a
knock.
    I know it’s him. Dan. He wants more, but my house is off limits. Always. No one
can come in, no one can see how I live or what I own; it’s private.
    He knocks again.
    I step onto my front porch and into the
spring night, shutting the door quickly so he can’t see inside. The smell of
rain is mixed with the scent of greasy French fries from the Burger Castle
that’s down the road. His hair is wet. Shiny. Dripping. An image flashes
through my head of his naked body sprawled out on his bed with his hands tied
to the bedpost and his dick stuck in a jar of caramel. I lick my lips.
    He moves closer as if it’s a sign, but I
grip the top of my robe, signaling not to touch. His grin’s contagious. Sexy
bastard. Uh, he has the face of a young Casey Affleck. I’m in trouble.
    “Div,” he whispers with a hand placed
next to my head. “You asked me out to dinner but then you refused my kiss.” His
breath smells like a cinnamon Altoid. “I haven’t been rejected since I was
fourteen. But that’s how you play, right? It’s what you do to lure men back to
your house?”
    If he only knew.
    “Divine Hallowell,” his voice is soft and
suggestive as his lips brush against my ear. I close my eyes and inhale. “I bet
you fuck like a wild animal.”
    Mehhh.
    I’m a taster. I like to nibble and
chew... and he’s not coming inside just yet. In my house (ever) or in my vagina
(right now).
    I retreat, turn the deadbolt and exhale
then slide down the back of my door and listen for his footsteps. It seems like
an eternity before he walks away and I can finally take another deep breath. Do
I know how to pick ‘em, or what? He could be in one of my novels, or better
yet, I could be a character in one of Kimmy Firestorm’s books.
    Except I won’t wait until the end (the
last scene) to fuck Dan. It will happen soon. I make a mental note to buy a jar
of caramel.
    The remainder of my beer is poured down
the kitchen drain before I crawl back into bed with my laptop. I want to tell
the Dick Sluts about him, my new man, but the posts can only be book related.
Damn. Instead, I post on my regular newsfeed as Div, knowing my thirty-or-so
friends don’t give a shit. And sure as I’m caking my ass with body butter,
waiting for a response, staring at the screen for ten minutes, the post gets
zero likes.
    Porn is better than Facebook anyway. I
haven’t forgotten that. It was what I was going to watch after I finished my