Book blurb:
Dating My Vibrator and other true fiction is a collection of nine true and almost true short stories all based (unfortunately) on my own experience. After nineteen years of marriage I was thrust into a brave new world of dating: online, offline, standing in line, listening to lines. And I have survived to tell these tales. Dating, divorce, desperation—all that good stuff. CAUTION: if you’re contemplating divorce, these stories may convince you to consider marriage counseling. If you’re out there dating, chances are you will relate. OMG! Here’s a scary thought: maybe you’ve met some of these guys. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. Joe Konrath gave it 5 stars and says, “Pure Comedic Brilliance. Just .99 cents!
Buy Links:
Kindle:
Nook
Blog, “Who’s Imagining All This?”
Facebook page
Reviews:
Pure Comedic Brilliance, October 5, 2010
This review is from: DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction) (Kindle Edition)
Suzanne Tyrpak has created a truly unique collection of short stories in this offering. It seems impossible that one woman has had such misfortune in the world of online dating, but Suzanne's bad luck is our reading enjoyment. Please believe me when I tell you that books that are simultaneously this insightful and hilarious do not come along all that often. I write thrillers, I read thrillers, so for me to rave about a short story collection based in the world of online dating signals a truly unforgettable work. You simply have to read this.
I love Suzanne, October 6, 2010Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction) (Kindle Edition)
If I could, I'd give "Dating My Vibrator" six or more stars. It's that funny and that well written. I've been disappointed in the past by books written by women that were advertised as being humorous, which I thought were more silly than funny. Suzanne is witty, intelligent, and indomitable. My sympathies, Suzanne, regarding your disastrous dates. Couldn't help laughing though. I'm looking forward to other works by you. Talk about making lemonade out of the lemons in your life . . . how about making custard pies and throwing them at your dates?
Laughing my hooters off..., October 3, 2010Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: DATING MY VIBRATOR (and other true fiction) (Kindle Edition)
A combination of a great sense of humor, and an ability to actually write, makes Suzanne Tyrpak's collection of 9 short stories well worth the [...]price. Women will definitely relate, while men will laugh and ponder whether they've done something similarly stupid in their past. To her credit, Ms. Tyrpak hasn't created a stage where she is blaming men, she simply tells us many wonderful stories about the interactions that take place in today's dating world (Internet included :-)) between men and women. Lucky for us, she has a good enough sense of humor to look back and laugh at herself and write about it.Author bio:
Suzanne Tyrpak ran away from New York a long time ago to live in Colorado. Her debut novel is Vestal Virgin, suspense set in ancient Rome, available on Kindle and Smashwords—and soon to be released in trade paperback through Amazon. Her collection of nine short stories Dating My Vibrator (and other true fiction) is available on Kindle and Smashwords. J.A. Konrath calls it, “Pure comedic brilliance.” Her short story Downhill was first published in Arts Perspective Magazine. Rock Bottom is published in the Mota 9: Addiction anthology, available on Kindle. Her short story Ghost Plane was published by CrimeSpree Magazine. Venus Faded appears in the anthology Pronto! Writings from Rome (Triple Tree Publishing, 2002) along with notable authors including: Dorothy Allison, Elizabeth Engstrom, Terry Brooks and John Saul. Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers awarded her first prize in the Colorado Gold Writing Contest, and Maui Writers awarded her third prize in the Rupert Hughes writing competition.
Excerpt from Dating my Vibrator
Dharma Dan
I remove my glasses, so I can really see him. Could be handsome if he’d smile. His face is soft, a little bland. Indefinite.
“So, you’re a Buddhist?”
“Yeah.” He looks around distractedly.
Friday, and the place is packed. Dim lighting and alcohol mask the lines that creep across my forehead, enhance the lines designed to lure me into bed. I spot another guy I met on Match. The accountant. About a month ago, we went out for coffee. Dutch. He’s wearing a black tee-shirt; I can’t see the logo but I suspect it says Harley-Davidson. Our conversation consisted of a blow-by-blow description of rebuilding his motorcycle. I don’t mind a guy who’s passionate about transmissions, but our date ended abruptly when he asked if I’d be into group sex.
Not if the group includes you.
Didn’t say that, but I thought it. Truthfully, the idea of getting naked with one person is frightening enough. A middle-aged group-grope holds as much appeal as a colonoscopy. In fact, a colonoscopy might be more pleasurable; they use good drugs to knock you out.
I focus on my current date. The Buddhist thing intrigues me—I want a guy who’s conscious.
“These are good.” He drains his glass and motions to the waitress. “Another Appletini.”
I didn’t know Buddhists were so into alcohol.
The waitress glances at my drink, tonic with a hint of gin—the Happy Hour special. I’ve barely touched it. Alcohol makes me forget things, like promises I make. For example: no jumping into bed on a first date. I’m not taking any chances.
“A glass of water, please.”
I turn back to my date. His name on Match is Dharma Dan. Dharma means truth—I looked it up—and I want a guy who’s honest, a guy who seeks the truth. I find that attractive. I want a man who delves beneath the surface.
Dharma Dan is frowning, lost in contemplation.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Okay, maybe he’s not big on conversation. But still waters can run deep, and I’m looking for a deep connection.
“Is your place close?” he asks.
“Not too far.”
“I’d like to see it.”
I stare into my gin and tonic. I thought we had an understanding. We’ve talked a few times on the phone, and I’ve told him I need time. I told him I want to go slow, and he said he was fine with that.
The hole in our conversation deepens into a crater.
I chase ice cubes around my drink with a plastic sword, deftly stab the lime.
When we spoke on the phone, we seemed to have some things in common. I’m divorced and so is he. We both like Chinese food…. There must be something else, but I can’t remember.
The cocktail waitress returns with his Appletini and my water.
Underneath the table, his knee brushes mine. I jerk my leg away.
Usually, on a first date, I suggest we meet for coffee. Coffee is safe. The plan had been for Dharma Dan to meet me at The Steaming Bean, early afternoon. He drove up from Santa Fe, a four hour drive that took him over seven. Normally I wouldn’t have stuck around waiting for three hours, I mean I have limits, but Dharma Dan kept calling, telling me that he was on his way.
Red flag, red flag, red flag, I know.
But he said he was stuck in traffic. Traffic? From Santa Fe to Durango? No cars travel on that road! Must have been a herd of sheep. But sheep don’t come in herds, do they? They come in flocks like birds. Who made that up? Anyway, by the time he finally got here, it was Happy Hour. He said he could use a drink, and I felt kind of bad for him, driving all that way, so I offered to buy him one.
This will be his third.
I hope he doesn’t think I’m paying for all of them. His martinis cost three times as much as my Happy Hour gin and tonic.
He reaches for my hand across the table, says, “It’s good to meet you.” His speech is slightly slurred.
“How often do you meditate?”
“I’m meditating now.”
“On what?”
“On you.”
He brings my hand up to his mouth.
Did he just lick my palm?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Your post will be published after administrator approval.