"Just a minute!" Mia called back. She rested her hands on the shoulders of the life-sized clay man in front of her and stared at his featureless face. "Show me your face," she whispered. "I'll stay here all night with you if you'll just show me your face."

Sometimes, she felt like she could hear him talking to her inside her head, but tonight he was quiet. She refused to analyse the mental health issues that hearing voices in her head could signify. Rather, she chose to focus on how she'd got more emotionally involved with this sculpture than anything she'd ever done before. She knew in her gut this was going to be one of the most special pieces in her body of work.

Squinting, she peered closer at the clay where his face should be, but she saw nothing to indicate how his eyes, nose or mouth should look. "You're not ready to come out yet, are you?" she asked the lifeless form. "Fine, then I'm going dancing. I'll be back tomorrow if you feel like showing up...if I don't get lucky tonight."

She pulled the plastic cover over her clay man, wiped her tools clean, and clicked off her work lamp before joining Shirle at the door.

"Girl, we've got to hurry if we're going to make you party-presentable by eight." Shirle grabbed Mia's wrist and dragged her out of the studio.

Mia cast a final look over her shoulder at her latest project. She'd dubbed him Adam, because he was the first man she'd ever created. Most of her work had been female torsos with their curves and soft lines, but a few months ago her muse became adamant that it was time for her to produce a man. Though, she might have been confusing her surging libido with her artistic muse.

She'd been abstinent for nearly a year, but not because of any kind of premeditated plan. She'd been finding it hard to meet any men who met her criteria. She wasn't especially selective, but the pickings over the past year had been slim to none.

Tonight was Shirle's attempt to end Mia's long dry spell and give her vibrator a night off. Shirle had organised a huge gathering of artists, actors and musicians from her Facebook connections, specifically sending the call out to all the straight, single men in the Chicagoland area. It was unofficially being called the Break Mia's Abstinence Bash.

Mia would have been more embarrassed if she wasn't so damn horny. She really hoped she'd meet someone appropriate for a weekend of hot sex. She wasn't looking for the long-term happily-ever-after. She wasn't sure that would ever exist for her. At thirty years old, she'd given up the idea of settling down. She'd be perfectly satisfied with finding a happy-for-right-now man to get her needs met.

"I'm driving. Leave your car here," Shirle said.

"How am I going to get back to the studio in the morning if I leave my car here?"

Shirle stared at her then rolled her eyes. "Girl, you're not going to be thinking of working your cold, wet clay in the morning. If my plan works, you'll be having hot, wet sex until you're too limp to raise your arms."

"We can only hope," Mia said, sliding down into the passenger seat of Shirle's little compact car.