Book Info-
Title- Sesame Swallow, Private
Investigator
By- D. Scott Meek
Publication Date- November 13,
2013
Genre- Romance/ Mystery/Comedy
Blurb
Looking for a chance to make a name for herself, Sesame
Swallow, wanna-be Baltimore private eye, finds herself in the midst of her
first real case and on a slipperier slope than usual to danger.
If Nancy Drew had come of age in the modern world, worn eye-popping
short skirts and stilettos and drank Johnny Walker Black with the best of them,
she would have been Sesame Swallow, a late-twenties party girl with an oral
fetish straight from the not-so-hallowed halls of a local college and looking
to make a splash in the shady world of private investigation. After months of
questioning her career move, Sesame finally lands her first case: find a
missing person, the web-famous wife of a local entrepreneur and wealthy
businessman, but she’ll need to get her hands and her knees dirty to do the
deed. A raunchy, laugh-out-loud adventure, this first in a series of seductive
mysteries finds our sexy heroine doing what she does best: whatever must be
done to whomever she must do it.
"I really enjoyed reading Sesame Swallow, there was a
dark twist in the story line that just drew you in. The sex scenes were hot,
and the connection to the characters was pretty deep. This story also brings to
light a global crime that some may not even be aware of—human trafficking. I
think it takes talent, like D. Scott Meek's, to bring a very real problem into
a fictional story and make it work."
- Thom Cahir, author
of "911 Avenged"
Excerpt
Sesame
is in her favorite place doing her first research into the missing person, one
Goldie Rains, an almost-famous internet porn star on her own website
MakingItRain.com. Looking at porn in a
public place can result in all kinds of interesting conversations.
*****
Sitting
in Starbutts with my tall, skinny, extra whip, white chocolate mocha and
blueberry muffin was always enjoyable, and today was or was not an exception –
the jury was still out. I had my
favorite jeans on, the ones that hugged my ass just right, my white Towson
Tigers Soccer hoodie – the tiger was pink and black like a little stuffed
animal – and my hair in a ponytail, except for that one little bit that kept
falling in my eyes. Comfortable and presentable,
maybe even hot by the way I’d caught a few boys giving me the eye. I even had my tortoise shell-rimmed glasses
on, my “academic look”, and I’d found the perfect kicks to go with my hoodie –
black with pink swoosh. I gazed down at
them and smiled, silently thanking Nike yet again for their outlet up in
Lancaster. It was never too early in the
day to look cute, and besides, my watch looked vaguely like noon, or was it
more like one – I couldn’t quite tell because my vision was a little hazy still. Of course, there were a few downers. My head was on the very edge of exploding –
probably accounted for the vision thing, and I’d taken as much extra-strength
whatever as was possible without sending me into a coma. The pain was fading entirely too slowly, but
there was some progress, and the stomach was not so much growling anymore, most
of the muffin having disappeared down some dark hole recently reserved for
other tasty snacks. Now, with a little
caffeine, I was feeling content, if not fully alive. The patient was going to make it.
I was not raring to go, as my father
would say. In fact, I was sure that I
was supposed to be still sleeping.
Wasn’t there a queen-sized bed with my name on it somewhere? I vaguely remembered being in it, and
suddenly I was sure Bea still was.
Bitch. I frowned, but the thought
of her lying there naked in my bed reminded me of the other part of my body –
besides my head – that was throbbing, and I squeezed my legs together. She’d expressly told me not to touch until I
had gotten a move on in this case, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. To some degree she was right. I needed to get going on this thing and at
least put some effort into earning the money I was looking at: ten grand.
Otherwise, without a little forceful hand from a friend, I’d be spending
most of my day in my yellow Towson Soccer baby doll t-shirt with my hands on my
pussy, wasting the day away in an orgasmic frenzy – if she let me. I thought of the big yellow over-stuffed
chair sitting in the sun next to bedroom window, my legs open and feet pressed
against the warm glass – a window-washer’s dream come true – and I crossed my
legs. Not now. As Bea said, if I was a “good girl” and made
some progress, there would be something in it for me later. Double bitch.
I was hoping it would be something large and hard, so I was going to be
a good girl.
Back to work.
I focused on the muffin and stuffed
the rest of it into my mouth, following it up with another swig of the mocha –
what a combination! – and glanced down at my iPad again. I’d scrawled a few notes on it with my stylus
using a very cool new note-taking app that I’d only downloaded a few days
before. I stared at my handwriting, felt
my eyes struggle to focus, and read off the notes I must have jotted down when
I’d come in and was still operating in semi-sleep mode.
Lindsay Rains, aka, Goldie
Showers. 23. MakingItRain.com. I tapped the icon next to the url and pulled
up the site. It might give me something;
it might not. It certainly gave me an
eyeful. After the entrance page and
typing in my year of birth – getting carded on the web was at least the
stupidest thing ever invented – I was brought to the guest/intro page, and
there was Lindsay, her torso anyway – from the top of her head to what looked
to be just above her nipples, and her eyes shut as a clear liquid came
squirting down onto her, splashing first in her hair and then onto her
face. She made a little cooing sound and
opened her mouth, where the stream was then directed. Then the clip restarted, and she was smiling
at me, great big grey eyes, long eyelashes (piss-proof mascara?), and the tops
of her massive jugs. The piss started
again, and she took it with a smile.
I took a deep breath. Damn, the bitch really went for it. She figuratively, and literally, I guess,
drank it down. I stared at it
bewildered, not sure how I felt about it – I hated anything on my hair or face,
which is why I always swallowed. But
this was piss. Or maybe it was water and
looked like piss – there was no way to tell now, but maybe it would be clearer
as I went deeper into the site. Still,
she smiled and she swallowed, and suddenly I wondered if that’s what I’d look
like, and if I’d go for the hot steaming stream like she did.
I shuddered, and I squeezed my legs
together. Not sure. Didn’t want to think about it.
Suddenly, from behind me, I heard a
chuckle. I spun – too quickly, and my
head screamed out in pain; I’m not sure if I screamed or not. Behind me, when my vision cleared, were two
stupid boys, staring at my iPad.
Jesus! Just what I needed –
caught in a Starbutts watching a girl get pissed on and trying to decide if it
was hot or not!
“Kinky,” said the douche on the
left. He had his hat on backwards –
clear douche sign. The other giggled and
sipped his iced coffee through a straw.
He was cute, but that made no difference to me at the moment; he could
be the Crown Prince of CasholaStan, and I’d have kicked him in the balls. After all, they’d both nearly killed me by
making me wrench around so quickly. And
they both needed to – .
“Fuck off,” I grumbled through a
polite-ish smile, keeping my voice low but forceful enough that they’d know
what they were getting into. I hoped
they could see the murder in my eyes.
“Say, sweetness,” said the one with
the hat as he leaned down on the back of the chair, entirely too close for my
comfort, making me wish I had a taser, “if you are looking for a little wet
work, Bobby and I can probably oblige.
Right, Bob?” Bob nodded, and I
could see the sudden hope light up his face like a firework display on a dark
night. Yeah, it’s early on a Saturday,
and we are out sipping coffee and hoping to run into a girl who likes to be
pissed on – what the fuck? Was this the
real world? And then I realized it was
the B, and in the B, stupid assholes were everywhere. They didn’t call it “Charm City” for nothing,
right?
I squinched up my face as if I was
contemplating it and then set them straight.
“I tell you what, boys. If you
are down, maybe later I’ll come by and show you what a hot shower is all about,
huh?” They seemed to both brighten at
the prospect, and if I’d looked, I’m sure I would have seen the hint of a boner
in both, but I kept my eyes locked on theirs for the moment. “I have a thing for golden showers, as you
can see, so if you boys are game, I can stop by and piss on you both. Is that cool?” The smiles faded away quickly, and I almost
wanted to laugh. “Just both of you be
naked and laying together, say in the tub, and I’ll pull my panties to the side
and make it rain. What do you say? I love pissing on cute little boys like
you. And afterward, maybe you can make
out or jerk each other off. That shit
makes me hot.”
They didn’t hang around. “Fuck you, freak,” said Douche Number One,
and he walked off. Bob, the cute one,
gave me the once over as they headed out the door, and he looked back again
when they got to the door. Maybe he
thought that was hot. Maybe he didn’t
mind grabbing on his boy’s junk for a hot chick – hell, boys weren’t that
bright around here from what I’d seen.
As for me, well, I certainly would have enjoyed it – not gone through
with it, of course, but the idea of pissing on those two dickheads suddenly
made my head feel better. So did the
idea of getting a taser. I giggled to
myself as I watched them disappear and turned back to my business. Douches defeated; it was time to get serious.
Links-
About the Author
What's a mid-40's divorced man
to do after wrapping up twenty years in the US Navy? Why, start a career in teaching and writing,
of course. Oh, and explore the world
some more. And read everything
possible. And go back to school. And enjoy every moment to its fullest.
A teacher for the government by
day, I ply my wares at night on my laptop, where I'm cranking out silly blog
posts, socio-political commentary, poetry, short stories and novels at an
excessive rate. If I was driving, I'd
have been pulled over by now. Meanwhile,
I have kids to raise, a girlfriend to love, and a spunky wiener dog named
Sloppy Joe to goof around with.
Beyond that, I'm busy with life,
having fun, working out, going to parties, traveling, etc. When I burn out and die, I want to be able to
say that I did everything that was possible for me to do. I want to die like I live: with a smile on my face.
Interview
How long did it take you to write Sesame Swallow, Private
Investigator?
Well, it was a spur-of-the-moment National Novel Writing
Month deal, so I pretty much slammed out the entire thing in those 30 days of
November 2012. Then I stepped away from
it for a bit, not really sure what to do next and having a number of other
writing projects clamoring for attention.
Finally I sat down in the spring of last year and worked through a
flurry of edits, getting help from a few friends and my girlfriend. But really, it was 85% done in 30 days.
What is your favorite genre to read/write?
Science Fiction is my favorite without a doubt. This was my first foray into writing mystery,
but I’m usually found in the Sci Fi aisle at bookstores, and my own bookshelves
and writing files are full of science fiction books or works-in-progress. Why?
SciFi opens up so many new worlds, although I don’t go “off-world”, if
you know what I mean, when I write. I
keep all my writing here on Earth dealing with real issues in a proposed
future. My reading habits though do
often take me off-world to strange new galaxies and new peoples.
If you could sum your main character into five words, what
would they be?
Adventurous.
Resourceful. Daring. Drunk.
Sexy.
What is your favorite Quote?
Well, the entire book is based on
the first few lines: “He wasn’t tall. He
wasn’t dark. He wasn’t handsome. But he had a big cock.” It just came to me one day, and that’s
how I usually write - a picture in my head or on the internet, or a few lines
that pop into my head, usually a play off of something, a warping of some
standard line or cliche. Those lines
popped into my head, and I knew I had something that was going to be fun. There are so many moments, especially in the
beginning of the book, that had me laughing out loud every time I read them,
even as I wrote the lines, but this first bit set the tone.
Who is your favorite author and why?
It’s probably a tie between Alexander Dumas and Robert A.
Heinlein, although there are many others whose books have made an impression on
me over the years. Both of these authors
tell complex stories with complex characters, and neither of them worry about
the “feel good” aspect. They show you
the brutality of life, something that I’ve always gravitated to in my own
writing. The Count of Monte Cristo (Dumas) is my favorite book, and Stranger in a Strange Land (Heinlein) is
second. Both books are essentially
tragedies, which I also love and gravitate to in writing, and both are stories
that don’t stand up as black and white moral narratives; it’s the
responsibility of the reader to roll with the choices the protagonists make
because those choices aren’t always going to be popular with society or even
the reader. It might be a turn-off to
some people who like this nicely worked out in the end, but I like playing with
and reading endings that aren’t all rainbows and living happily ever after.
Do you have a favorite comment or question from a reader?
You can imagine the questions, considering there’s a lot of
sex in the book, and the comments are few and far between because I’m just
getting this going and getting my name out there, but my friend Thom said
something in his review that I really appreciated and thought it summed
everything up quite nicely:
Once her investigations begin, Sesame seems to get more sexual enjoyment
from her work than anything else. The deeper she digs, the kinkier the sex, the
more the trail seems to grow cold and the more the reader gets the sense no
resolution is forthcoming…until the final twist that leaves readers thinking,
“I never saw that coming.”
What is the best book that you've read recently?
I’d have to say it was Megan
(Breadcrumbs for the Nasties) by a friend of mine, Steven Novak. It was something new for him, and he asked me
if I’d read it prepub and give him some feedback. I thought it was excellent, a tale of a young
girl (about 12, I think) in a post-apocalyptic United States, who loses her
parents and begins to find her way in life, learning a lot of hard lessons
along the way. It’s creepy, a bit scary,
has a solid bit of action, and it’s also very different than what we are used
to in the post-apocalypse genres out there, what with late teen YA heroes and
heroines, a la Katniss Everdeen, taking over the planet. Megan is still very much a little girl, and
she’s got a very nasty road ahead of her.
She’s not a hero; she’s just surviving.
I really liked it, and I think a lot of other people will, too.
Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your
book?
Because you’re looking for something that’s fun and new and
sinfully sexy, and something that has a lot more meaning and grounding in
reality than you thought at first.
When you were little, what did you want to be when you “grew
up”?
I wanted to be a wide receiver for the Super Bowl champion
Dallas Cowboys. I wanted to be Michael
Jordan’s teammate. I wanted to be James
Bond and Captain Kirk. I still want to
be those things, but more than that now, I want to be Shel Silverstein and
George Carlin.
Any other books in the works? Goals for future projects?
The list is endless! Okay, not really, but really I do have ideas
that come out of nowhere constantly, and I have numerous ongoing and future
projects just waiting for me to be cloned and write them all right now. I’m currently writing the sequel to this book
called Sesame Swallow and the Case of the
Missing Heart, and I foresee a new Swallow novel every year. I’m half-way done with a sci-fi thriller
called Falling Snow that takes place
in Kazakhstan. I’m smoothing my sci-fi
vampire thriller Dying Light for
either a self-pub in the summer or some shopping to an agent. I’m currently running and writing my second
multi-author online serial novel called Just
Right, A Cautionary Fairy Tale, and looking into publishing the first one, Dorothy: Locked & Loaded. I’m having a friend read over the novella In Case of Alice, Break Glass, a
retelling of Alice in Wonderland, so
I can get that smoothed and published.
I’m writing the “sequel” to SyFy’s Sharknado
called Crabquake on my blog. I’m working on a series of interviews of
different friends (race car driver, porn star, DJ) for my blog
(readingwritingrevolution.net). And I’m
jotting down notes for 2-3 other novels I’ve ideas for or already started every
time something comes to me. See what I
mean? I might be crazy, or I might just
be a writer - sometimes I’m not sure.
Links-
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