Free Sweet Dreams by Rochelle Alers Page A

happen again with a man she had no intention of loving.

Chapter 6
    C handra sat between Preston’s outstretched legs on a soft leather chaise in a soft butter-yellow shade, wishing she’d worn something a lot more casual. He’d changed into his work clothes: jeans, T-shirt and sandals.
    When he’d led her into the home/office Chandra was taken aback with the soft colors, thinking Preston would’ve preferred a darker, more masculine appeal. Instead of the ubiquitous black, brown or burgundy, the leather sofa, love seats and chaise were fashioned in tones of pale yellow and orange, reminiscent of rainbow sherbet. The citrus shades blended with an L-shaped workstation in a soft vanilla hue with gleaming cherrywood surfaces.
    Two walls of floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases in the same vanilla bean hue were stacked with novels, plays, pamphlets and biographies. Several shelves were dedicated to the many statuettes and awards honoringPreston’s theatrical achievements. She smiled when she saw two Tony awards.
    The third wall, covered with bamboolike fabric, was filled with framed citations, diplomas and academic degrees. The last wall was made of glass, bringing in the natural light and panoramic views of the Philadelphia skyline.
    Reclining against Preston’s chest seemed the most natural thing to do as he explained the notations he’d put down on a legal pad. Chandra squinted, attempting to read his illegible scrawl.
    She pointed. “What is that word?”
    Preston pressed a kiss to the hair grazing his chin. “You got jokes, C.E.?”
    Tilting her chin, Chandra smiled at him over her shoulder. “I’m serious, Preston. I can’t decipher it.”
    He made a face. “She can’t decipher conflict, ” he said sarcastically.
    “Hel-lo, P.J. It looks like confluent to me.”
    “I can assure you it is conflict . Writing a play is no different from writing a novel or a script for a film or television. It all begins with an idea or premise, a sequence of events, characters and conflict. As the writer I must touch upon all of these elements not only to entice theatergoers to come to see the stage production, but keep them in their seats until the final curtain.”
    “What’s the difference between writing a script for the screen and one for the stage?” Chandra asked.
    “Stage plays are much more limited when it comes to the size of the cast, number of settings and the introduction of characters. Whereas with films there can be many, many characters and locales. I try and keep the page count on my plays around one hundred.”
    “Have you ever exceeded that number?”
    “Yes,” Preston replied. “But it should never go beyond one hundred twenty pages. The story should concentrate on a few major characters who reveal themselves through dialogue, unlike a film actor who will utilize dialogue and physical action.”
    Shifting slightly, Chandra met Preston’s eyes. “When do you know if your premise is a play or a film?”
    “The key word is physical action. If I imagine a story and I see it as frames of images, then it’s a play. But, if the images are filled with physical action, then it’s a film script.”
    “So, you see Death’s Kiss as a play?”
    “It can go either way. As a film it probably would be darker, more haunting, the characters of Pascual and Josette more complex, and there would be more physical action than on the stage.”
    “What would the rating be if you wrote the screenplay?”
    “Probably a PG-13,” he said.
    His response surprised Chandra. “Why not an R rating?”
    “An R rating would be at the studio’s discretion. I always believe you can sell more tickets with a PG-13 rating than one that’s rated R or NC-17.”
    “Is that why you insist on literary control?” she asked, continuing with her questioning.
    Preston nodded. “That’s part of it. What you and I have to decide on is the backstory for Death’s Kiss. ”
    “Would I need a backstory for a mythical