Julianna Keyes's Blog - Posts Tagged "deleted-scene"
Going the Distance - Deleted Scene
If you read "Going the Distance" and found yourself wishing you had just a little more Jarek & Olivia sexytimes to get you through your day, you're in luck! I've just added a steamy deleted scene to my website - check it out!
http://juliannakeyes.com/going-the-di...
http://juliannakeyes.com/going-the-di...
TEAM PLAYER - DELETED SCENE
RELEASE WEEK – POST 4 – DELETED SCENE (NO SPOILERS)
Here’s a quick scene from one of my earlier drafts. Because I kept starting the story over from scratch, I forgot about this one and when I remembered later, I couldn’t find a way to work it in organically. I still think it’s cute, so I’ll share it here. Enjoy!
* * *
“Come here,” Ty said, tugging open the patio doors. “I want to show you something.”
“Please let it be something scandalous.”
“Nope. But it’s probably the most interesting thing I’ve got. The most vain part of the house.”
“All right,” Gwen said. “I’m interested.”
She was interested no matter what, but once again her expectations were blown out of the water when he led her to a little alcove beneath the stairs and unlocked a nearly invisible door.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He pulled open the door and flipped on a light switch.
“Whoa,” Gwen breathed. It was a glass case holding approximately thirty baseballs, each in its own clear box, with a neatly typed sign identifying its milestone achievement. First hit. First RBI. First home run. The top row was dedicated to Ty’s firsts. The other three rows were balls marking milestones from some of the sport’s greatest players. They had to be worth a fortune.
“I know I don’t deserve to share space with these guys yet, but it’s the only place I had to display them,” he started.
“This is insane,” Gwen interrupted. “And you’re hardly displaying them, since they’re hidden in a locked room under the stairs.”
He shrugged and studied his feet. “It’s the only thing I’ve got.”
“Why don’t you keep them in your apartment, if you spend the most time there?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to.”
Gwen nodded at the top row. “Do you remember those hits?”
“Oh, God, yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “Are you kidding me? I could re-enact them for you right now.”
“Please do.”
He laughed. “No way. I’m not drunk enough.”
“Then tell me about them.”
He stepped close and tapped the ball for his first hit. “I played three innings in my first major league game and didn’t get on base,” he said. “This is from my second game. I got the start at short because the regular guy had a cold. I went 1-4, and didn’t get the hit until my last at bat. Ninth inning, one out, nobody on. We were leading, 8-3. Didn’t really matter what I did, but it felt like everything to me, like I’d never get another shot if I didn’t make this one count. Roy Fowler was pitching relief for the Mariners, and one of the guys told me he’d start me with a fastball right down the middle, because he knew I couldn’t hit it. That guy threw hard, and I wanted to throw up instead of bat, but I walked up to the plate, sent up a prayer to any god that was listening, closed my eyes, and swung as hard as I could at the first pitch.”
“Home run?”
“Lord, no. Bloop single to right. But I didn’t care. Tried to act like it, but you can see me grinning my head off, almost too giddy to stay on the base.”
Gwen laughed. “Do you have the video?”
“I’m going to lie and say no.”
“Why?”
“Because watching it with you is a step too vain, even for me.”
Here’s a quick scene from one of my earlier drafts. Because I kept starting the story over from scratch, I forgot about this one and when I remembered later, I couldn’t find a way to work it in organically. I still think it’s cute, so I’ll share it here. Enjoy!
* * *
“Come here,” Ty said, tugging open the patio doors. “I want to show you something.”
“Please let it be something scandalous.”
“Nope. But it’s probably the most interesting thing I’ve got. The most vain part of the house.”
“All right,” Gwen said. “I’m interested.”
She was interested no matter what, but once again her expectations were blown out of the water when he led her to a little alcove beneath the stairs and unlocked a nearly invisible door.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He pulled open the door and flipped on a light switch.
“Whoa,” Gwen breathed. It was a glass case holding approximately thirty baseballs, each in its own clear box, with a neatly typed sign identifying its milestone achievement. First hit. First RBI. First home run. The top row was dedicated to Ty’s firsts. The other three rows were balls marking milestones from some of the sport’s greatest players. They had to be worth a fortune.
“I know I don’t deserve to share space with these guys yet, but it’s the only place I had to display them,” he started.
“This is insane,” Gwen interrupted. “And you’re hardly displaying them, since they’re hidden in a locked room under the stairs.”
He shrugged and studied his feet. “It’s the only thing I’ve got.”
“Why don’t you keep them in your apartment, if you spend the most time there?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to.”
Gwen nodded at the top row. “Do you remember those hits?”
“Oh, God, yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “Are you kidding me? I could re-enact them for you right now.”
“Please do.”
He laughed. “No way. I’m not drunk enough.”
“Then tell me about them.”
He stepped close and tapped the ball for his first hit. “I played three innings in my first major league game and didn’t get on base,” he said. “This is from my second game. I got the start at short because the regular guy had a cold. I went 1-4, and didn’t get the hit until my last at bat. Ninth inning, one out, nobody on. We were leading, 8-3. Didn’t really matter what I did, but it felt like everything to me, like I’d never get another shot if I didn’t make this one count. Roy Fowler was pitching relief for the Mariners, and one of the guys told me he’d start me with a fastball right down the middle, because he knew I couldn’t hit it. That guy threw hard, and I wanted to throw up instead of bat, but I walked up to the plate, sent up a prayer to any god that was listening, closed my eyes, and swung as hard as I could at the first pitch.”
“Home run?”
“Lord, no. Bloop single to right. But I didn’t care. Tried to act like it, but you can see me grinning my head off, almost too giddy to stay on the base.”
Gwen laughed. “Do you have the video?”
“I’m going to lie and say no.”
“Why?”
“Because watching it with you is a step too vain, even for me.”
