Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock

A flippant remark by a mild screenwriter to an obnoxious TV reporter snowballs into more than he had bargained for, at one of the most glamorous of events! (There's no actual TG stuff in this first part, but there will be. I promise.)

6:30 AM. The alarm buzzed. I slammed down the sleep button, with every intent of going back to sleep. Five minutes later, I had to go to the bathroom and got up to go. I turned on the light. I looked in the mirror. My wife looked back. I screamed.

“What’s wrong, Dan?” I heard myself say, from the bed.

Philip placed a couple of fingers to her lips and whispered, "Shh." Putting one bent finger under her chin, he raised her head and looked at her straight in the eyes. Their lips moved toward each other and, as they touched, Lizzie Jane became limp as the sweetness of the kiss canceled out everything around them and, once again, she was flooded with warmness and complete surrender. At that moment, she would have given into anything Philip wanted.

"Well, this is what I call home," stated Carol ... Lizzie Jane fell in love with it right away. "It is your home, too -- for you and Philip." teased Carol.
"Don't even mention that rich, stuck-up brat," Lizzie Jane answered sharply.
"Oh, now -- a brat is a naughty little boy," smiled Carol.
"That is exactly what he is!"

        As the sun crept up over the horizon, Steph and Lisa stood in front of the still-closed salon. Lisa, who had lost eleven pounds since February, was dressed in a pair of green and while cotton sweatpants that hadn't fit her since high school. She had steadily been losing around five pounds per month until May, when she'd gained five of them back. That fact was making her anxious and irritable, which was not lost on Steph, who was also wearing her old school colors.

Craig was a humble accountant who mainly kept to himself, until the office Halloween party gave him something to cheer about. Will this journey of self-discovery lead Cathi down the road to love?

Looking over her shoulder, Christina saw that her uncle was busy in the back room. She temporarily deserted her post behind the counter and walked to the far corner of the store where Richard had gone. As she rounded the corner of the aisle, she felt two hands on her hips lift her up off the ground and deposit her onto the glass freezer case where ice cream and other frozen goods were kept.
"Maybe I can help you warm up," Richard flirted as he wrapped his arms around Christina's waist. He gave her a long kiss and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

I was introduced to the producer of the programme, who was a woman. I always thought they were men who went around in beards and sandals shouting 'cut', or was that directors? Shows what I know. Well Des had a beard and sandals, even in the rain. I was wondering what Simon would look like with a beard. Hmmm maybe I like beards?

As Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.

"From tears? I don't think so. But if I was in your position, I think it might be nice if someone simply held me for a moment, just so my body knew I wasn't entirely alone." He allowed me to hug him and he sobbed in my arms, I wanted to cry too.

Easy As Falling Off A Kite.
by: Angharad
part 163

Realizing that she had been laying on Richard, unconscious, she nervously sat up and checked herself. Her mind panicked. Did he feel her fake breasts? What about her jeans? Did he go exploring there? How could she let this happen, she shouted in her brain as her heart raced.
Feeling rough fingers on her chin, her face was directed back towards Richard's and the man pulled her into a long kiss. Closing her eyes, Christina parted her lips and relaxed.
"It's okay," Richard assured her. I don't mind that you fell asleep. It was rather nice holding you."