The bundle in my hands lands on the thick carpet as I stop the head on collision by grabbing his towel wrapped hips. Startled, he comes to a halt catc...ing his balance with a hand on the railing, his eyes wide under the fringes of wet curls. Moment lasts forever while I drink in the site of wet Adonis, man-child, droplets of water on his bronze skin, clean, warm smell filling my lungs. I should let go of him, half my age, he could be my son. But, I have been watching those smiling eyes looking. ’ Charlotte took a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge. ‘It’s traditional to begin a story in medias res.’ ‘I’m sorry, what?’ ‘In the middle of the action, so that the reader will be drawn in by questions about the things they don’t at first know.’ She handed him a glass. ‘But how can the reader find out what’s happened before the story began?’ He had no idea what she was talking about, but he loved listening to her throaty voice. ‘It has to be communicated through exposition,’ she said. ‘For. More

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