I’ve been tagged by M.J. O’Shea on Facebook to play Lucky 7. This apparently means I have to go to either page 7 or 77 of my current work, count down 7 lines, and then post the next 7 lines of text.

Poppy Dennison says I’m not allowed to cheat. The rules are a bit sketchy however . . . I don’t think I’m cheating by posting two selections from my current works. You be the judge.

The first selection is from the soon-to-be-released Frat Boy & Toppy. This is from page 7, cause page 77 had a big ol’ spoiler.

. . . weeks since, you know, I told you I needed some alone time.” Brad looked away, overcome by being a lying sack of shit. He turned back, putting on his “brave” face, and shrugged. “You’re a great girl. If I were ready for a real relationship . . . but I’m not.” He gave her his broken-hearted smile.

That ‘‘real relationship” line was so useful. He didn’t know what the fuck it meant, but his older sister Ellie told him to use it, and it worked. She’d said if he was going to go through girls like toilet paper, he should at least try and mitigate the damage. “You bastard,” she’d added.

And here we have the novel I’m currently writing, Too Stupid to Live (yes, I’m sorry, I’m still working on TSTL). This is also from page 7.

. . . all. He was a fool. A dorky, not very attractive fool. A too-tall twink fool who hot bear-daddies didn’t give the time of day. If he was cute and small and blond (as opposed to towering, underweight and bland), maybe Ian would want to tie him up and have his way. But Sam wasn’t.

He looked down at his book cover sadly. He covered up the heroine’s face and most of her cleavage with his thumb and gazed at the highlander pictured there. He seemed so two-dimensional.

Duh.

Okay, time for me to go tag 7 other people, I guess.