The following was submitted to BDSMCafe by Amy Minty, a reader here who is also a very talented erotic fiction writer.
Give the summary a read, and then a sample chapter below.
You can also get the full book at Amazon!
Summary of “For Sink or Swim”
Part one: The year is 1989. The month is October, and the setting is affluent New Jersey with a particular focus on Reservoir Oaks, a public high school within a wealthy suburb. A town that is run by a select few dangerous people. The subject is high school coaches, their wives and two particular students living under these conditions.
Before the days of the Internet, social media and cell phones, there was still plenty of scandal, but it wasn’t necessarily broadcast or discussed. For Sink or Swim is a novel about the repercussions of keeping secrets and coveting happiness. It touches on the power of memory and the influence of regret as past events slowly mold the character’s personalities over time.
Carter Hayes has been recently coerced into taking on another coaching position: woman’s swimming, of all things. He suffers from lack of affection from his wife, Elizabeth. Coaching teenage girls intensifies his inner turmoil.
Elizabeth, Carter’s wife, thinks very little of him, but feels it’s easier to stay married rather than change the circumstances due to their two young children. But Elizabeth has secrets, from her past and the present: she’s always known about her husband’s philandering, and her own heart lies with George Kane. He runs the athletic department at Reservoir Oaks and is Carter’s boss.
Then we have the students who only are vaguely aware that they are a product of their environment. In the late eighties teachers still touted the American dream and the white picket fence. “This will go on your permanent record!” was still a catch phrase. To those who realized the impracticality of this early on, two young girls emerge, Pamela Castle and Tina Baldino, to challenge conventions. Both fifteen years old, they are sophomores at Reservoir Oaks High and best friends. Their lives revolve around the commitment to competitive swimming.
Part two: Two years later. 1991. Same town in New Jersey.
Reservoir Oaks High is the focus as the politics revolving around dirty money and drug ties is becoming more overt. Much of the swindling is linked to Principal Gleaner, Coach Hayes best friend. George Kane is slowly discovering that something unethical and illegal is occurring and he begins to probe.
After three seasons of swimming, Pam has decided to act on her crush on Coach Carter Hayes. She is only seventeen, but smart beyond her years due to growing up quickly. She is fearless in her pursuit of him. Their relationship takes on new levels as Carter is not the responsible adult he should be, and nor is Pam’s mother—who is strangely absent in a society and era of strict parenting.
Paul Huffington, a powerful gas distributor and businessman, and his wife, Grace, live on the nice side of town and appear to have it made. Originally both from Texas they have built their future in the north together. Paul, however, seeks solace from his earlier memories and his rough childhood by engaging in sexual acts with other women and gambling. This leads him to meet Tracy and begin an affair.
Grace Huffington has only one addiction and that is a constant need to be sexually satisfied by Paul. She is able to turn her head on much of Paul’s philandering due to her devotion and need to be with him.
Paul is indirectly involved in some of the scams regarding the school due to providing the gas for the school buses and other school vehicles.
The perspectives alternate from the adults to the students, and we begin to relive some of Carter’s past through Elizabeth and Ginny, George’s ex-wife. Life continues leading up to one of the largest late snowstorms in New Jersey’s history.
During this storm, the roof of Tina’s house collapses leading her family to an extended stay at the Fountainhead Motel. One early evening, Tina runs into both Elizabeth and George, together at the vending machines, holding hands. Tina tells only Pam, who is now engaged in clandestine encounters with Carter Hayes.
Elizabeth and George’s love for each other has grown and they finally decide the time is right to be together. They are working out the details of their future when disaster strikes. Now each character must decide whether buried secrets should come to light in the wake of what has occurred, as the potential loss of life puts everything in greater perspective.
For Sink of Swim is an honest portrayal about suburban life with an emphasis on eroticism. But more than that, it examines how one traps themselves into situations, never knowing what the future holds. It’s a novel that will embody the message: live every day like it’s your last.
SAMPLE CHAPTER FROM SINK OR SWIM
Carter Hayes was mindlessly helping Elizabeth with the dishes. He hadn’t said anything yet. Not a word. Liz was waiting. George had told her the news two days ago: Carter had accepted the high school swim coach position. She wondered just how long it would take him to tell her.
Liz handed him a clean, wet saucepan and studied his features: the square boneset jaw, the wide-open face always set in the same expression, one of intense thought, yet distracted and seemingly dissatisfied. But after nine years of marriage, Liz knew that was just how he appeared. His face always reflected those emotions regardless of what he was thinking. In fact, he was rarely thinking anything unless he was hungry, horny, too cold or too hot. Even when he acted surprised or upset or angry, it didn’t last more than a moment because Carter didn’t want it to. He lived in his own world where nothing bad ever happened. All was good. All was manageable.
Still studying him, Liz doubted he knew what empathy was. Had it been written across a women’s chest, he may have bothered to inquire; otherwise, the chances of him speculating were miniscule. He did teach the occasional health class, but feelings weren’t considered factors regarding the physical body.
Yes, she decided. It was true. She had married a man that had never taken a risk in his life. He taught gym at the same high school he had attended. Then he’d gone to Rutgers, virtually around the corner, where he’d played more sports: football and baseball. Now he coached football and baseball. He had only married her because their parents had known each other. She was considered “local” and, therefore, trustworthy and dependable. The quiet one who never raised her voice, but was always listening.
“She’ll make a great mother.” Liz could still hear her mother-in-law’s urgent hissing seeping through the lean corridors of Carter’s old home. Her tone had been haunting and dark, echoing with predictability. Liz’s quiet nature and unassuming way had his parents back at hello, but she had a hold on Carter because she liked to fuck a lot back then. To be in your early twenties in the late seventies was a beautiful thing. All the pot turned her into a slut, and he was always right there, just waiting to shove his dick in her after the third puff.
One day, shortly before they’d gotten married, she’d been late arriving to a beach campfire on the Jersey Shore. Since the cops had been in the parking lot, a rather lofty deterrent of sorts, she’d parked off to the side, following another path through the mess of tall greens leading to the beach area. And there had been Carter, arms wrapped around Ginny’s naked breasts, clawing at her from behind, shoving her hips up and down over his cock, while she clung to a single tree-branch for leverage.
So transfixed in his personal pleasure, Carter hadn’t noticed his fiancé standing there watching, the low dunes hardly camouflaging her presence. He just kept slamming her best friend up and down on him as fast as his strong swimmer’s arms could move.
The crazy thing was it hadn’t bothered her. She hadn’t even been mad at Ginny. Ginny had always told her she thought Carter was a fine piece of ass. She could still hear her warnings today. Damn it Lizzie! You need to protect what you have! Don’t let him out of your sight! At least she hadn’t been lying.
Elizabeth handed Carter another wet pan. He robotically took it from her, placing the one he’d just dried in the low wooden cabinet. She smiled slightly and blinked recalling Carter’s overwhelming perseverance. The scant light from the moon highlighted their upper bodies, and he pushed Ginny up against the tree seemingly striving to get deeper. The muggy summer heat caused beads of sweat to run down his face. They dripped off his curly hair and down over his eyes that were squeezed shut. And all he kept saying was “Make it never stop. Make it never stop. Let it never stop. Oh, I want to feel like this forever. Oh God. Don’t let it stop. Make it never stop.” The vague statements had no subject. Whom had he been talking to? God? Ginny? Himself? Maybe if his dialogue hadn’t made her so curious, she would have been more shocked or repulsed. Or at least, affected.
“Make it never stop.” He repeated it like a mantra and kept pumping Ginny like a giant ragdoll. She could still see Ginny’s bone-white tits bouncing, rebuffing gravity. Her tan, slim waist, completely concealed by Carter’s huge hands. Liz stood there watching, not making a sound, until Carter finally cried out, his orgasm echoing through the salty night air. “Oh no! Oh no! No . . .”
Then she’d walked calmly past both of them, arriving at the campfire as if nothing were amiss. There was a series of hellos and a beer from the keg was poured for her. Sitting there cross-legged, she stared into the amber flames, making casual conversation with others; fielding questions about Carter’s whereabouts.
Ginny arrived down by the fire first. Long, blond ponytail swinging. Short skirt blowing in the breeze. Her face appeared flushed, but at least her shirt hadn’t been inside out. Elizabeth had looked up and smiled. “There you are. Have you seen Carter?”
Ginny had frozen, her round, clear, blue eyes reflecting the orange blaze. “No. No. Haven’t seen him. Just got here.”
This confirmed to Liz that they had arrived together. How many times had they already had sex that day? She had wondered. “Oh. That’s weird. I thought I saw his car,” gambled Liz. “But he’s nowhere to be found.”
Ginny shrugged, taking a seat on the opposite side of the fire. “Who’s going to pour me a beer?” Ginny had flipped her ponytail and winked at the guy sitting next to her.
“Me,” said Elizabeth, jumping up. “Let me!”
Ginny’s life was much different now. She was different. Older. Hardened. Weary. She had adjusted to a new life way before George and she divorced, but she often replayed the events in her head as if they were yesterday.
When George had first entered the scene eight years ago, Ginny had been attracted to his immediate power in a town in which he had no prior affiliation. She had liked that about him. He was a different animal. A man she had not yet conquered or controlled. She’d been the “hot” substitute teacher at Reservoir Oaks High School at a time when George slipped into the head position overseeing the athletic department. George had been the one to promote her to a full-time position within the Phys. Ed. division. He’d encouraged her to coach cheerleading, and a sexual relationship seemed a natural course of action. Leading them to make it official. In retrospect, their togetherness depended largely on their mutual ties to the school. It worked when it was a package deal. It even continued to work into their first year of marriage.
It wasn’t until George realized his attempts at getting Ginny pregnant were not coming to fruition that their relationship began to deteriorate. She had failed to mention that she couldn’t get pregnant, and George suspected her of not being upfront about her situation. Especially when the testing revealed what Ginny already knew. Not only was George dismayed she was unable to have his kids, he was also extremely opposed to adoption. She still remembered his profound statement. “The babies will grow up and want to know who their real parents are. Once they find out, they will never love you or me the same. And then it will have been all for nothing.”
After that, the marriage snowballed downward. She’d never felt good enough for him, and his obsession with the politics of his job seemed to take precedence over her. His constant complaints of being “manipulated” by “people in control” were his chief concern, although she never really understood what he meant by it, and he never elaborated. Then he began to get aggravated with her too often on a work level, leading her to eventually seek out a position at another school. The rift then became a deepening chasm as he took it as a personal affront. Told her it reflected badly on him. His wife resigning under his reign. Then everything fell apart. Their separate lives dominated to the point where divorce was inevitable, but it wasn’t until ten months ago that George abruptly decided to move out. She’d had no choice in the matter.
“Hey babe, looks like these dishes are done,” said Carter, interrupting Liz’s memories—which she didn’t appreciate. She liked to remember the past, especially in Carter’s presence. Recollections of indiscretions defined her, altering her disposition on a daily basis.
Liz peered into the sink. She had polished it clean in her reverie. “Yep. All finished.” It was a new sink in a new house, but Carter was the same guy. Same expression. Same man. But at least she was different. She had never let on she knew about that night. Or others, similar in nature. She married him four months later at their family church in Wayne, NJ. And nine years after that she was still cooking for him. At least Carter’s mother had been right about one thing: She was a good mother.
Carter finally caught her eye. “Thanks, babe. Dinner was really good. I’m going to watch hockey.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said, thinking how much he’d liked fucking her best friend. She could still see his face misted over in bliss as he came inside her. Not even bothering to pull out, his body had slumped forward, two naked figures one with the tree.
Liz licked her top lip. Perhaps she’d call Ginny later. They hadn’t spoken much since she’d gone to work for the opposition: a private school.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a second,” said Liz. “Do you want coffee?”
“Nah, I’m okay. I’ll just grab another beer.”
Liz nodded and poured water into the coffee pot. Yep, Carter liked his beer. Always had.
She sat down at the square, wooden kitchen table and waited for the coffee to brew. She closed her eyes, trying to get back to the fervor of her recollections. The distrust had long since molded into something obscurely pleasurable. The campfire. Carter had drunk continuously from the moment he’d appeared out of the darkness to the second he’d stumbled toward her car to go home. An uncultivated fool with the ability to still be life of the party.
He’d poured his first beer without acknowledging anyone—his friends, his fuck buddy, or his fiancé—all circled around the fire. He then drank it quickly so he could pour himself another before sitting down, trying to satisfy the swamp inside him. He was like a lake during a drought, insatiable. Before he spoke aloud to the group or even greeted Liz, he had absorbed twenty ounces of Coors Light into his thirsty bones. Beer was good for that, she considered. The electrolytes of the past and the present.
Liz had studied him just as she had in the tall weeds only moments before. He appeared worn and tired, but twenty ounces of beer was a fantastic pick-me-up. He was even careful enough not to glance over at Ginny. But he was done with her for the moment so that wasn’t totally incomprehensible. He had noticed Liz eventually and ambled over, running one hand through—what was then—very long brown curls. “Hey baby. How did you beat me here?” he had asked, his quirky smile shrouding all his crimes.
“I came straight from class.” Liz had answered with a straight face. “Surely you must have made a few stops on your way.”
“Nope. Got off shift, showered off the sand, and headed over. You look beautiful tonight.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, your eyes are shining.”
“Must be the light from the fire.” Or the power of newly acquired wisdom.
“No baby, it’s you. You’re gorgeous.”
Elizabeth had said nothing, and allowed him to refill her red solo cup. He was heading back to the keg anyway. And the evening had resumed like any other. Without discussions of worth or truth. Without genuine camaraderie or momentous bonding. Shallow and still, the night lingered on, with just the sound of waves crashing through the hollow air. Liz’s thoughts continually replayed the lust in the dunes.
Two hours later, Carter was slumped in her passenger seat, half-passed out, his eyes slits. His used Camaro was parked haphazardly somewhere. As usual, she was the responsible one.
They pulled up in back of his parent’s home. The driveway back then consisted of unpaved gravel, which, in the summer, sounded as if she were driving through half an acre of shredded wheat.
“Here we are,” she announced. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Half out of it, he’d kissed her on the cheek and weaved along the crunchy pebbles toward the back porch door. Its flickering light glowed in the gloomy darkness, guiding him like a lighthouse in the mist. How easy to be him, she remembered thinking. Effortless. Just like now.
Pouring the coffee into a mug, she decided to bust his balls. Reliving the past was like a stimulant for Liz, spurring her on.
“So . . . anything new?” she asked, sitting next to Carter on their tan couch. The Devils were playing the Rangers.
Carter shook his head, his eyes peeled on Sean Burke’s save. “Wait, what?”
“I said, ‘Any new developments in school lately?’”
“Nope. Well, yes. They’re starting a women’s swim team.”
“Really? Which pool will they use?” She asked this casually, despite knowing the answer.
“I guess the YMCA. The one off route seventy-eight.”
“Hmm.” Elizabeth waited and then finally cleared her throat. “Who will be the coach? I assume a woman will be assigned.”
“Not sure.”
“Really? You’re. Not. Sure.” Liz blinked twice.
“Actually, I’m being considered.”
“You don’t say.”
Carter nodded. His eyes were still on the game. It was the third period, and the Devil’s hadn’t scored yet.
“You’re being considered, or you’ve accepted the position already?”
Carter shifted his eyes toward his wife. He wondered how she knew.
“It’s been offered to me,” he said.
“What was your answer?”
Carter picked up on Liz’s sharp tone. “I said I would do it, as a matter of fact.”
“Ah . . . I know you did. The whole town knew by last night. I’m wondering why it didn’t occur to you to tell me.”
“We just haven’t spoken. That’s all.”
“We just did the dishes together for thirty minutes.”
“Well. Ta da! You’re married to the new women’s swim coach for Reservoir Oaks! It will be like ten years ago when I was still a lifeguard on the Jersey Shore, right baby? Good times.”
Elizabeth nodded, unflinching. Remembering.
“Yeah, I was always pretty good with a whistle.”
“So, let me get this straight, you think you’re qualified to coach girls swimming because you were a lifeguard ten years ago?”
Carter laughed. “I realize I’m unqualified. I guess I’ll learn. It’s an extra four grand a year. Pays more than football.”
“Is that your only motivation? The money?” She knew it was George’s motivation. Finding another thing to keep Carter busy. And she and the kids would benefit from the additional income.
“Yes. Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Look at Muller. He’s going to score.”
No wonder hockey was so popular among men, thought Liz. It was all about getting the puck in the net.
