(…Well, the excerpt’s only a bonus if you don’t follow me on Tumblr or Instagram, or happen to be friends with me on my personal Facebook. But I like this one, so I’m making everyone look at it. Plus, I’ve added a little extra, so you know what? The bonus stands.)
Per the featured image, How to Survive a Teen Sex Comedy is comin’ at ya November 9th.
Follow the links here for preorders and the (ongoing, because I keep thinking of songs to add) playlist, along with all the other avenues to my various online hovels.
Ideally, I would have had this post up and running *at least* a solid week before release, but… Eh. It’s only my second book and a re-release, so I don’t exactly have people breaking down my door for information.
Besides, last weekend was Halloween and then Halloween hangover—only sort-of physically, but emotionally? Well, I fell in love with some significantly-taller-than-me guy at the bar (no one is ever significantly taller than me in real life), but the extent of our contact was me almost potentially body-slamming him as I tried to navigate the atmospheric lighting with Jell-O shot vision, so I had to wallow in missed opportunity ennui all of Sunday. As one does.
Then I was held hostage by my niece on Monday, and Tuesday was all about surfing the blue wave that has reignited my zest for life. “Party In the U.S.A.” has never meant more to me than it does now, Miley.
So the time got away from me. Don’t ask me why I didn’t do book promo prep before last weekend, I don’t know; I’m doing it now and, really, isn’t now all we have?
Whatever, on to the excerpt—
When the rumor mill’s spinning about the state of your virginity, you need a fake boyfriend to keep the cretins off your case. And if that fake boyfriend happens to have a very real crush on you… Well, maybe he panics about it a little bit.
“Be your what?” he says, as if this concept is utterly unknown to him, and isn’t it, though?
“Be my boyfriend,” Trixie says again, like these are just words people say. “Just for tonight. Or a few weeks, I guess, maybe? But I think we’d only need to like, really get into tonight, you know? Laying the groundwork should do it. One party with you, no one’s going to bother me anymore. All these guys are way too scared of you.”
Riot’s cigarette barely moves with his deadpanned “Oh. I’m. Flattered.”
“I’m not scared of you, dingbat,” Trixie says, stating and proving her point in one fell swoop. (DINGBAT.) She leans an elbow on the center console and beseeches him with those huge fucking eyes. “But these guys? They’re stupid.”
“No shit.” But Riot really is flattered now.
“I’ll pay you.”
“Trixie—Jesus.”
“You’re not really dating me,” Trixie presses, like that’s the issue (and, well, it kind of is? If he’s going to date her, he wants to date her). “We just make everyone think we’re a thing, and we see how long we have to do that before they all don’t care anymore and I can live in peace, and I’ll pay you whatever seems fair when we’re done.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“What.”
…There. That’s enough. You can have the rest on Monday.
And then I can finally focus up on Book 3, which I think I’ll be documenting/sharing more of during the WIP process. I’m trying to gain some traction out here, and that seems like an alright road to try.
If I end up stuck in a metaphorical cornfield during the ride, well, that’s happened literally before—in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night in a bridesmaid’s dress—and if I can make it out of that, surely (maybe) I can survive social media marketing.
Stay tuned!
(I sure say that a lot for someone who abandons their blog like the “Hungry Heart” narrator abandons his family. But I always come back with something, and that song is still a banger.)
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