At 10,100 Words, and IyIyIy Wish I Didn't Hate This.

Still not completely loving what's going on in my novel, but here are some excerpts to whet your appetite:

He told her that he would be leaving in the morning for Pamplona, Spain, to run with the bulls and report for Wanderlust Magazine. But before parting, he kissed her once more, and told her that he wanted nothing more to see her when he got back. And see her he did; one week later, she found herself at his apartment, leafing through his many photo albums that documented all of the places he had been.

And really, he had been everywhere; every continent, including a particularly unpleasant trip to Antarctica. She noted with delight that he even managed to look cute in a Canada Goose parka and sunglasses. When looking at the pictures that he took in Argentina at the beach, she noted with even more delight that she could probably grate cheese off of his abs to make a nice lasagne. She seductively (or so she thought) ensured that the braided strap of her dress fell daintily on her shoulder, to attempt to convey her appreciation of the beach photos. She had braided colorful strips of fabric that afternoon to make a bright detail for her favourite summer dress; those charming, cheerful, and chic accessories made from fabric, yarn, and leather—you've never seen braids like this before! Unfortunately, she could not find her shell-covered pot earrings, which surely would have matched the braided straps with aplomb. She suspected, however, that as a well-meaning gesture, Ellie had hidden the earrings to ensure that Olivia could not wear those handy lip gloss holders in public. Oh well.

The only thing is better than thinking about those wonderful moments was talking about them with others. Lucky for her, her work had not been particularly demanding as of late, and she had the perfect sounding board in Ellie.

“He’s coming over tonight,” Olivia e-mailed Ellie in the subject line. “Please return my earrings immediately,” read the rest of the e-mail. Olivia heard an angry groan a few cubicles over, and Ellie soon appeared at her desk.

“I don’t know where those are, really, Olivia,” she said defensively. “Why don’t you just buy a new set of earrings? But might I suggest that you for something a little less… large?”

“No, you may not. Did you see how great those earrings looked on Zac Efron at the premiere of his latest film, Blusher vs. Bronzer: The Last Stand?”

“You know that I didn’t come over here to talk about that movie with you. Again.”

“I’m just really excited. And not just about The Last Stand.”

“I know,” Ellie smiled. “I’ve never seen you like this. And don’t think I didn’t notice when you submitted that last quiz, ‘Is Your Vacation Fling More Than Just A Fling?’”

“You know that I care deeply about my readers and their love lives.”

“Not enough to stop making fun of them. How is it that the kind of beach chairs that ‘you and your poolside cutie’ like to sit in can help anyone determine if their fling is something more?”

“You’re just upset that Bigsley has Muskoka chairs, which I said spell the end of your vacation romance.”

“I’m taking that question out.”



Here is an excerpt that I think Jill will particularly fancy:

Portobello Road was bustling as usual as Fernando and Olivia strolled along, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the Saturday street market. The area was the famous setting of a scene in the Disney classic Bedknobs and Broomsticks, but more importantly, the Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts classic Notting Hill. Olivia, however, knew the road best from the song "Blue Jeans" by the alternative rock band Blur, from the 1993 album Modern Life Is Rubbish, in which the opening lyrics are "Air cushioned soles, I bought them on the Portobello Road on a Saturday." Olivia had nothing but disdain for the casual Blur fan who was only familiar with their most famous song, aptly named “Song 2.” She was often known to dismiss these “jerksters” as “unruly hockey fans, most likely fans of those goddamned Boston Bruins.” She shared these thoughts with Fernando, although sadly, he did not know much about the subtle yet dignified stylings of Blur, much less anything about how the Boston Bruins are a disgrace to hockey and never should have won the Stanley Cup in 2011.

The road meanders and curves gracefully along most of its length, unlike the more formally planned layout of most of the nearby area. Mid- to late-Victorian terrace houses and shops predominate, squeezed tightly into the available space, adding intimacy and a pleasing scale to the streetscape. As Olivia pointed this out to Fernando, she was disheartened and disturbed to see something that wasn’t so intimate and pleasing to the landscape: Henry F. Darcy III.

He had an almost regal air about him as he passed from stall to stall. He didn’t meander about or saunter; rather, he promenaded. Olivia hated it; she hated his pompous air and the superiority that his very being exuded. She hated how expensive his acid-washed jorts, graphic tee and red fitted hoodie looked. She also hated the fact that his outfit was an exact rip-off of Cody Simpson in his breakout hit music video, “IyIyIy” featuring Flo Rida. He pulled out his phone to respond to a text; presumably, the text said “143,” or, for those who still have a command of the English language, the text said “I love you.”
“Strange,” she thought to herself. She also made a note to do her best to forget everything that she knew about the 9 year-old music prodigy. It made her sound creepy, to say the least.

But the strangest thing of all, however, was the fact that Olivia did not seem to be the angriest person in the vicinity to discover the presence of Darcy. No, that person was, in fact, Fernando Wickham.