Thread: The Old Typewriter

MID-CENTURY TYPEWRITER IN EXCELLENT CONDITION. THE KEYS ALL WORK. THE TWEED CASE DOES HAVE SOME WEAR. BUT CLOSES TIGHTLY AND THE HANDLE IS TIGHTLY SECURED TO THE CASE. PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO ASK ANY QUESTIONS AND WE OFFER RETURN IF NOT SATISFIED WITH THE BUYER PAYING RETURN POSTAGE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR INTEREST! Amanda sat at her desk pounding out her latest erotic novel on the old Royal typewriter she had purchased on Ebay last summer. When you live off the grid three months every year, a manual typewriter isn't as quirky an investment as you might think. It was forty degrees outside, but inside, her efficient little Rocket stove kept her one room cabin with loft almost too warm. You meant 'their' not 'there' in that last sentence . The smug, frankly condescending voice of her Christian Grey like protagonist sounded off her right shoulder. Amanda mistyped her next three letters. James! You know not to interrupt here when she's creating . The warm honey tones of Georgia sounded off her left shoulder. She was going to retype the page anyway, I saved her the editing process . Amanda screamed and ripped the page from the typewriter and crumpled it up. James winced. Georgia tsked tsked. In theory, characters coming to life sounds good, she bitched. But I would have scanned in the page when I got back, used OCR, and then corrected it! She stamped her size six foot. And didn't I tell you both, 'no advice when I'm writing?' None of my other characters edit my work. James said sotto voiced, they should . Georgia shrugged. He's right you know. You used the wrong 'there.' You do that a lot. And why is this latest novel 'gay porn?' I feel kind of left out. And is cockfest really a word? James gave Georgia a wicked grin. If you want to go up to the loft my peach, I'll make sure you don't feel left out . Georgia shuddered delicately and blushed. Frustrated, Amanda stood and closed the case. I'm done writing for the day. I'm going for a walk. You two get it out of your system while I'm gone. Georgia glanced over at James. We should go with her. Remember last time? She'll be fine , James said. I don't think three roughneck gay cowboys are going to interrupt their ... err, cockfest ... to try and have their way with her like that moldy old bear did last time . Georgia's eyebrows rose. It was an anthropomorphic bear and hardly moldy . She shuddered delicately. Remember exactly how our dear Amanda described its package ? James grinned. That one sold rather well on Amazon didn't it? Georgia bit her lower lip and then giggled. Oh yes, but I think a lot of that had to do with the cover . Behind the two, Amanda pulled on her over boots and slammed the door. Hearing their writer leave, Georgia gave a husky purr and said, Upstairs baby! Hey ! James complained mildly. Who's the dominant in our story ? You or me ? Always you baby , Georgia replied with a sultry wink, so let me get my soon-to-be naked ass upstairs and on the bed . Outside, a tall, lean man with a black top hat scurried up to Amanda. I'm just not feeling my motivation. Why I am always kidnapping these passive, submissive, stupid, silly and utterly annoying Mary Sue types? Can't I have a decent relationship with a real, thinking, independent woman? Please Amanda, I'm begging you . Amanda sighed. That stuff sells. And by the way, didn't I write your novel on my laptop back home? Cheeves, the secretly dominant butler who ravished his young lady mistresses at night, nodded. Yes, but remember you did that edit on the Royal and sent if off two months ago . Oh yeah, Amanda nodded as she neared the incredibly blue waters of what was effectively her own private lake. Fancy some fun while James and Georgia get busy? Cheeves grinned. You know I do my dear it's how I'm written. Let me get my rope !