Teaser Tuesday
Due to my current writer's block with STRANGE AND BEAUTIFUL, today's teaser comes from SEVEN - which is not suffering from writer's block. As a matter of fact, it's kind of going really really well. So, even though I'm treading the dangerous territory of writing two WIPs at once, I'm quite happy. :)
*
Three ounces of pot and a glass pipe. That was enough to convince Mom that her daughter had been corrupted by the West Coast, and the only cure for my sullied soul was a farmhouse deep in the Rockies. She told me it would be an adventure. She shared happy, romanticized stories of her own childhood in Colorado.
Clearly she had forgotten that she grew up in a suburb of Denver, which wasn’t exactly the same.
Ironically, the pot wasn’t even mine. I was just holding it for Shane, since he’d gotten busted for possession just two weeks earlier and I still had a clean record. He’d tucked it into my dresser one night when I was too numb from his kisses to object.
“Just a few days, baby,” he said. “I promise.”
I hated that shit. The smell, the taste, the heavy sour smoke. My preferred buzz came from a bottle of Robitussin, a few shots of Cuervo, and Shane Cavell.
I squeezed my eyes shut and saw his face printed on the backs of my lids - tumbling blond curls, dark lashes, blue blue eyes that somehow managed to seem innocent despite everything…
Shane…
That bastard. I loved him too much.
*
Three ounces of pot and a glass pipe. That was enough to convince Mom that her daughter had been corrupted by the West Coast, and the only cure for my sullied soul was a farmhouse deep in the Rockies. She told me it would be an adventure. She shared happy, romanticized stories of her own childhood in Colorado.
Clearly she had forgotten that she grew up in a suburb of Denver, which wasn’t exactly the same.
Ironically, the pot wasn’t even mine. I was just holding it for Shane, since he’d gotten busted for possession just two weeks earlier and I still had a clean record. He’d tucked it into my dresser one night when I was too numb from his kisses to object.
“Just a few days, baby,” he said. “I promise.”
I hated that shit. The smell, the taste, the heavy sour smoke. My preferred buzz came from a bottle of Robitussin, a few shots of Cuervo, and Shane Cavell.
I squeezed my eyes shut and saw his face printed on the backs of my lids - tumbling blond curls, dark lashes, blue blue eyes that somehow managed to seem innocent despite everything…
Shane…
That bastard. I loved him too much.