Pitch Your First Page – Official contest post



Win a full request of your erotic or romance manuscript.
Comment here with your first page, but first read the rules below.

Romance and erotic writers, step on up and get your work in front of an editor with Let’s Talk Romance’s first Pitch Your First Page Contest.
Follow the blog, then post your first page in the official first page contest post, on Saturday. September 24th at midnight. Submissions will close October 1st, or at 100 (viable) submissions, whichever comes first. Then the Breathless Press editor will have until Friday to choose which one wins. I will announce the winner on Saturday, October 8th.
Published and unpublished alike are welcome to enter.
Good luck!

Submissions must include the following or they will be deleted.

I follow the blog. (or something to that effect)
Title
Name
Genre
Word count

Then the first page entry


April Dawn, Author of Crushing Desire and Bound by Love.

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10 responses to “Pitch Your First Page – Official contest post

  1. Yay, I love contests!

    I do follow your blog!
    Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?
    Abigail Sharpe
    ST Romance
    88,000 words

    Chapter 1

    “You want me to do what?” Ainsley Fairfax asked, nearly choking on her tea. She knew her parents’ invitation to visit was not for a pleasant chat, but she had no idea they would stoop to this.
    “It’s simple, Ainsley.” Her mother, Sophia, tapped her Montblanc pen against her leather planner as if emphasizing a point. “Time alone with Edward will help you realize that the two of you are perfect for each other. The cruise won’t have distractions to take your attention away from him. There’ll be dancing, romantic dinners, beautiful scenery. You’ll love it.”
    Sophia tossed her a small white envelope addressed with a swirling script to Ainsley at the Fairfax home. Ainsley narrowed her eyes at her mother’s pointed stare, catching the envelope before she thumbed it open. She removed tickets and colorful brochures, and held back a groan. Pictures of burning sunsets reflecting on water and happy people in bathing suits mocked her predicament.
    She fought the familiar paired emotions of fury and resignation as she clutched the pamphlets. “How can you send me on a honeymoon cruise when you know I have no intention of ever marrying him?”
    Sophia ignored her and flipped forward a couple of pages in her planner. “You have a meeting scheduled with the wedding coordinator the day after you come home.”
    “Because if it’s written in your calendar, it must be true,” Ainsley muttered.

  2. The formatting lost something in translation, so here it is with more white space. 🙂

    Chapter 1

    “You want me to do what?” Ainsley Fairfax asked, nearly choking on her tea. She knew her parents’ invitation to visit was not for a pleasant chat, but she had no idea they would stoop to this.

    “It’s simple, Ainsley.” Her mother, Sophia, tapped her Montblanc pen against her leather planner as if emphasizing a point. “Time alone with Edward will help you realize that the two of you are perfect for each other. The cruise won’t have distractions to take your attention away from him. There’ll be dancing, romantic dinners, beautiful scenery. You’ll love it.”

    Sophia tossed her a small white envelope addressed with a swirling script to Ainsley at the Fairfax home. Ainsley narrowed her eyes at her mother’s pointed stare, catching the envelope before she thumbed it open. She removed tickets and colorful brochures, and held back a groan. Pictures of burning sunsets reflecting on water and happy people in bathing suits mocked her predicament.

    She fought the familiar paired emotions of fury and resignation as she clutched the pamphlets. “How can you send me on a honeymoon cruise when you know I have no intention of ever marrying him?”

    Sophia ignored her and flipped forward a couple of pages in her planner. “You have a meeting scheduled with the wedding coordinator the day after you come home.”

    “Because if it’s written in your calendar, it must be true,” Ainsley muttered.

  3. I’m following your blog.

    Forgotten Visions
    Lia Davis
    paranormal romance
    66,000 words

    Chapter 1

    A cool sensation passed over Kalissa Bradenton’s subconscious as she entered her bedroom. She shivered and suddenly found it hard to breathe. Abandonment rose from deep inside and coiled around her like a cold current. Panic and fear raced in her veins, increasing her heart rate in alarm. Her intuition screamed something was wrong.

    She rushed to her dresser, picked up her phone with shaky hands, and dialed her mother’s cell. No answer. With blurred sight she tried her father’s. It went straight to voice mail. Kalissa’s dread cut through her soul and the bile taste of fear rose in her throat as hot tears slid down her cheek.

    Gods No! She dialed again, and again. Still nothing. It wasn’t like them to not pick up.

    Her parents had gone into Jacksonville for dinner to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They should’ve been on their way home.

    She staggered back a few steps as images flashed in her mind’s eye and sucked her into the vision. One minute she was in her bedroom and the next she stood on the side of the highway. The royal blue Mercedes barreled past her and flipped repeatedly across the median into oncoming traffic on Interstate 10. Crunching metal cut through the stillness of the night and broken glass littered the ground, trailing to where the car slammed into a large oak tree.
    When the vision cut off, a tightness gripped her chest and a lump stuck in her throat.

    Pocketing her cell, Kalissa ran from her bedroom to her twin sister’s room on the other side of the second floor of their family home. She charged into Khloe’s room without knocking. “We have to go. Grab a jacket.”

  4. Awesome, I follow your blog.
    Title: To Our Future
    Name: Angela Quarles
    Genre: Time Travel Romance
    Word count: 92,475

    Entry (Italics are lost):
    TO: Susan Tate {susan_tate2@vapornet.eml}
    FROM: Isabelle Rochon {eewroche@globalmail.eml}
    SUBJECT: RE: RE: Fri nite
    Oee, yes – am so ready for the reenactment ball. I wish you were going, though. Andrew only gave us one ticket each 😦 Can’t wait to see what he thinks of my dress! You’re right, I need to not over-analyze anything he does, just be myself. Yikes!

    I got my cards back from the engravers today—wait, I forgot to tell you – I’m going to bring the silver calling card case I found when I was renovating my study. Got some cards made for it!

    Let me know if y’all end up hanging out as I might be able to join you!
    —Belle

    Here’s a sigh to those who love me,
    And a smile to those who hate:
    And, whatever sky’s above me,
    Here’s a heart for every fate.
    Lord Byron, To Thomas Moore, st. 2

    CHAPTER ONE

    Isabelle stared at her gloved hand. Had she really just slapped Andrew?

    Damn, that felt good! Uh-oh, what now? Wow, maybe I’m taking this reenactment thing a bit too seriously. It was as if that slap encapsulated her shame and anger. As if its force and solid connection could alter the course of his behavior and her life.

    She raised her eyes to Andrew’s face. All nearby sound ceased, the silence surrounding them like a vibrating bubble. His blue eyes hardened as a dark crimson blush crept up his neck and face, incorporating the red imprint of her hand in its wake.

    Her mouth opened. When no words came out, she snapped it shut. Where were the words? Must be why her hand had taken on a life of its own, but jeez, she’d never slapped anyone in her life.

    Andrew clenched his teeth. The tangy smell of Scotch made her nose twitch. “Bitch.” And with that eloquent response, he spun away and careened his way through the crowd. Words percolated into her stun-stilled mind: Drunk asshole, arrogant bastard. . . Wish you’d trip and bust your nose right now.

    The nerve of that twerp. And tonight of all nights. How could she have been so naive about him? His callous words seemed to echo in the air. Great get up, darling. Mind if I take a peek to see if your knickers are authentic, too? No? Fancy reenacting one of those bodice-rippers I’ve seen you read in the staff room, then? Accompanied with a drunken lunge for the skirt…

    A hot lump formed in Isabelle’s throat. So much for slaving over her costume to get it as historically accurate and attractive as possible. Just to impress Mr. Heart Crusher.

    She’d impressed him all right.

    Trembling, Isabelle glanced around. The partygoers stared at her and it seemed as if they vibrated, too, just waiting for the signal to burst back into life, disperse.

    She spread her hands wide and faced the onlookers. “Just, uh, doing a little reenacting here.”

    Isabelle cleared her throat, her heart beating wildly. Was it her imagination, or was the air brighter around her, like she was the focus of a spotlight? “Nothing more to see, y’all. We’re finished.” She made shooing motions with her hands.

    The partygoers picked back up the motions and sounds of a ball.

  5. I’m following your blog
    Lauren Smith
    Title: The League of Rogues
    Name: Lauren Diana Smith
    Genre: Regency Romance
    Word Count:136,173

    Chapter 1
    London, September 1820
    The bellowing of an enraged beast shattered the pleasant afternoon atmosphere of Half Moon Street. A pair of fashionable matrons squealed in fright and hastened to cross the street, despite the danger of being trampled by the passing coaches. Inside one of the many townhouses on the street, the shouting continued. Servants ducked into dark corners and down back stairs as the Duke of Essex stormed through the first floor and into his private study. Their raging master slammed the oak door in an explosion of wood before he glared about the room. Under other circumstances, he would have tried to curb his temper around his servants, but it simply wasn’t possible today.
    At a hulking height of six foot three, Godric St. Laurent was only too aware that he cut an imposing figure. His broad shoulders heaved with the fight to catch his breath after all of his shouting. An air of barely controlled fury shimmered in the cutting gaze of his eyes. In one tightly clenched fist he had the reports from his financial advisor at Drummond’s Bank. Godric opened his hand and forced himself to read the report again. Twenty thousand pounds. All of it lost. No, not lost. Stolen.
    “Is there a reason you sent Lady Dalrumple and that spinster sister of hers scurrying across the street like frightened rabbits?” an amused voice asked.
    Godric’s nostrils flared as he raised his head and found a man leaning against the open window facing the street.
    “What the bloody hell are you doing here, Charles?” Godric growled.

  6. And why not give it a go!?

    I certainly do follow the blog… now.
    Title – Feral
    Name – Melissa Jolley
    Genre – Paranormal (Shifter)
    Word count – 11,000

    Larissa Lovell stood in the centre of the vast conference hall wondering how she ever let Sarah talk her into this. Waiting in a very long queue in the middle of a science fiction and fantasy convention was not her idea of a good time.

    ‘Fantasy freak best friends with crushes on television stars, who’d have ’em–me apparently.’ She frowned at her own inner musings, as she took in the sights.

    Larissa was surrounded by a labyrinth of booths impersonating forest scenes and distant planets, a multitude of wolf masks and scantily clad warrior women. She felt conspicuous in her v-neck t-shirt and jeans, her jumper haphazardly tied around her waist. ‘Thank God, I’m over my body image issues!’ She thought wryly, just as a particularly slim, yet buxom blonde wearing a leather string bikini, and not much else, walked past. She looked bored and very haughty. ‘She’s so getting paid to be here.’ This time Larissa smiled at the thought.

    Larissa stared towards one of the forest stands, and her eyes focused on the back of a rotund, hairy man wearing a crisp white toga, and a laurel wreath neatly about his shiny, bald head. Her eyes glazed as her mind drifted to the many things she would prefer to be doing, like finding out what some hunky Scot wore under his kilt in Edinburgh. Because she was fairly certain that’s what Sarah was doing, when not at her work conference! While Larissa as the dutiful bestie was roped into getting the autograph of some lame ass guy who pretended to be a werewolf for a living, ‘What was his name again?’ she looked down at the paper in her hand, ‘Ah that’s right, Zane Adamson.’ She didn’t even know what he looked like as a man, the program only had a wolf, and that was a real wolf, not even a guy in make-up.

  7. Hi,

    I just started following your blog.

    Title: Closer than a brother
    Name: Nkem Ivara
    Genre: Contemporary romance
    Word count: 17, 885

    “Could you zip me up, please?”

    Daye swallowed as he zipped up the dress, desperately trying not to look at the fastening of her pink lacy bra. He imagined what it would feel like to slip the dress off her shoulders, unclasp her bra and hold her pert breasts in his hands. He closed his eyes as he thought of planting feathery kisses all over her back till she moaned out his name in pleasure.

    “Daye…Daye! So what do you think?” Sami’s soft voice roused him out of his daydream.

    “Erm…yeah, good,” He looked away from her, cleared his throat and hoped his voice sounded normal to her, because it certainly didn’t to him. If he told her what he really thought, she would run and not look back. He couldn’t risk that.

    “Good? Is that all you can say? I have tried on three different outfits and you’ve barely had anything complimentary to say. What’s the matter with you today? Are you ill?”

    She reached for his forehead. He stood quickly and walked to the bedroom window of Sami’s Borough twelfth-floor flat. The skyline of the square mile stretched out before him but he hardly noticed. His senses focused solely on the woman in the room.

    “I’m not ill, just a bit distracted, that’s all.” He didn’t want to have to deal with the feel of her skin against his. What did she want from him? Blood? Well there was definitely plenty of that rushing to his groin now. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his back to her so she wouldn’t see the bulge in his trousers.

    “So tell me then, how do I look in this dress?”

    Stunning, sexy, drop-dead gorgeous, absolutely divine. “I think it’ll do fine,” he said, still looking out the window.

    “How would you know? You’ve barely looked at me.”

    Oh! He’d looked plenty. He’d seen how the champagne dress fit like it was sewn on to her, showing off her curves. He’d noticed that it stopped just above her knees and made her already long legs look even longer.

    “Daye, whatever is the matter with you? You’ve been acting really strange today.” She walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch burned through his shirt.

    He turned around to face her and smiled. He wanted to kiss the frown off her face. “Hey, scrunch-bunch, I’m fine, really.” He’d nicknamed her when they were back in school as she had a tendency to frown whenever she was concentrating.

    She smiled and punched him in the arm.

    “Ow! What was that for?” he howled in a mock protest, rubbing his arm.

  8. I follow your blog…from now, that is.

    Title- Becoming Iris
    Name- Sifa Asani Gowon
    Genre- Interracial contemporary Romance
    Word count- 7.096 (so far)

    Arliss ‘Ace’ Marceaux had never planned to meet her in a crowded, greasy diner. He liked places like that- perfect for anonymity and ironically, despite the noise, the perfect setting for him to think. He could melt into the crowd comfortably without having to worry about appearances and such. He never went to one place more than twice, preferring to wander around, much like a nomad, finding a niche in his very own straying. He had come to realize that most of humanity was the same in essence, everyone trying to find a way to escape their problems through various means- some through noise and others through silence. And then there were those like him- who oddly enough found solace in a mixture of both. As far as he was concerned, everybody had something to run away from: whether it was their past, present and even their future.
    Then came the fateful day when he had met the woman that would change his life. It just happened. He was a great fan of spontaneity and ‘live for the moment’ moments but this…this was phenomenal, and more than a little scary. She was everything he was not, and more, and he didn’t even know her name. All he knew was that his breath caught in his throat when he saw her.
    Her skin was like fresh earth after rainfall, her eyes reflective pools as found in the richest and most luxurious cup of espresso, her dark dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail and her waitress’ powder blue uniform falling over her curves in perfect folds and tucks. He wouldn’t have really taken notice of her if she had not come up to his table to take his order. He had been listening to music, his earphones embedded deep in his ears, the plaintive cries of Douglas Robb of Hoobastank, wailing and pleading…’What happened to us; we used to be so perfect…’
    He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up and there she was, gazing down at him with something akin to amusement. She indicated at her ears and he quickly removed his earphones.
    “May I take your order?” she said, her voice deep and lulling, her accent unfamiliar. He had never quite heard such a voice, wondering at its musical quality. He shook himself mentally- this was not the time nor the place for such foolish thoughts. Besides, as much as he felt the punch of attraction in his gut he knew that there were factors that would prevent him from pursuing her further.
    “Uhm…yeah…what’s good here?” he asked, in a bid to hear her speak again. She smiled.

  9. Totally following the blog!
    Title – Saving Sasha
    Name – Marya Kudos
    Genre – Adult Romance
    Word count – 47,932

    CHAPTER ONE
    Prologue
    Don’t Call Me
    I didn’t mean to be rude. I just wanted to get it over quickly. I felt he would understand. Neither of us had been bending over backwards for each other lately, after all. No, we hadn’t exactly kept it going. So why was he so surprised? I warned him. I told him from day one, I was used to breaking hearts. Hurting feelings what I did best – even when I don’t mean to. He made me think he understood. But while I hadn’t been fooling with him, he’d been fooling with me. Yes – he’d been a fool to think we could last. I wasn’t known as the “ice-queen” for nothing…

    “Sash,” he said in that new, hushed voice of his I didn’t recognize. Because he usually sounded confident and knowing. And he knew I hated him calling me that. But I could afford to forgive him, considering.

    “You made me believe we had a chance,” he added, with an obvious attempt to make his voice sound calm.

    I hated to do this. But no, I didn’t. I enjoyed it. It was the meat of my very existence. I was now like Pip’s Miss Havisham, in the book “Great Expectations” – but I didn’t need any Estella to break hearts for me – I did it very well myself.

    “No,” I replied with a shake of my head. “I was just being nice. You’re great in bed. You satisfy me. It suited me to string you along.”

    The look on his face, if I could only describe it, was so hilarious. But of course this was no time to laugh.

    “You’re mad, Sasha,” he breathed. “I thought I could reach into you, but you’re a hopeless case.”

    “Thank you,” I murmured, already reaching for the door. His pride, I saw, just stopped him from dashing after me.

    “I would say I was sorry, but I’m not,” I said, the door already open and me standing in it. I met his incredulous gaze easily. “And one more thing. . .don’t call me.”

    Those words seemed to trigger him to life. “What do you mean, don’t call you? We are partners, on the same team. In three days, we close a deal with our biggest clients ever.”

    “Oh, I didn’t mean that,” I said with an airy wave of my fingers. “I do intend that we stay partners. No one would ever accuse me of giving up a profitable arrangement. No, what I meant to say was, don’t ever call me Sash.

    “My name is Sasha. Sasha Pierce.” I got one last glimpse of his dazed, handsome face, before I left with a decisive clicking of the door.

  10. Hi, just began to follow your blog.

    Title: Stormy Affair
    Name: Netty Ejike
    Genre: Contemporary Romance
    Word count: 64,800

    Chapter One

    It was a sun-kissed afternoon in mid May; the kind of weather visitors love. Haulover Beach Park, one of South Florida’s most beautiful beaches, was flooded with people; men and women, old and young, not counting the children. Clad in scanty bikinis that hid little or nothing from the views of onlookers, the females sauntered about the whole place, while some sunbathed topless. At the far north of the park was the naturist beach for those who wanted to swim or sunbathe nude.
    Beyond the beaches the expanse of the blue water was breathtaking, and the surf kicked up, white and frothy.
    Two young girls sitting under one of the various shaded picnic facilities were people-watching. Amanda Cane, a petite blue-eyed blonde from Philadelphia, had long promised herself a whole day at Haulover beach. She was merely fulfilling that pledge.
    Sophie Warren, a slim, tall brunette, just happened to run into her and, being of similar age range, the two girls got talking. They also discovered they were in the same college—University of Miami—and shared the same interest in music and movies.
    They were chatting about someone they saw a while ago—a Hollywood star in a bikini showing off her amazing shape, when a tall, beautiful girl in her twenties walked past.
    “That’s Brooke Wilde,” Sophie murmured.
    “Who’s she?” Amanda asked, her eyes following the girl who walked with the kind of elegant steps associated with models.
    “She’s Miles Sanderson’s lover—one of the most influential men in this city,” Sophie replied. “I wonder why she’s alone,” she added, narrowing her eyes. “She’s hardly seen without him.”
    Suddenly, they saw a man walk toward her from the opposite side.
    “I should’ve known he’ll be lurking around somewhere,” Sophie concluded, with something akin to envy in her voice.
    “They make a beautiful couple,” Amanda whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the tall couple.
    “The tabloids termed them the ‘Stunning Couple’. Miles Sanderson is news wherever he goes. And he’s often in the limelight.”
    “Are wedding bells ringing?” Amanda asked wistfully.
    “Not that I know of,” Sophie replied, watching the couple share a lingering kiss. One would think they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days.
    “They’re in love,” Amanda remarked, feeling a tremor go through her as she saw the couple change direction and walk toward them.
    “Lust and love,” Sophie commented wryly, “what’s the difference?”

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