Pride and Prejudice meets Veronica Mars in this new Love Me, I’m Famous novella.
I had always thought Owen Whitfield fit the mold of the brainless jock perfectly. Group of idiot friends? Check. Vapid girlfriend? Check. Ego bigger than the moon? Check. As long as he stayed out of my way, coexisting with his kind was doable. Until one day our worlds collided, changing everything. He pissed me off so badly that I had no choice but to give him a taste of his own medicine. Little did I know that my act of revenge would come back to bite me in the ass. How was I supposed to know Owen would turn out to be the best partner in crime I could hope for?
I never paid much attention to Kimberly Dawson, but I knew who she was. Ice Queen was what we called her. She was gorgeous, no one could deny that. But she was also a condescending bitch which was enough reason for me to stay the hell away from her. She thought I was a dumb jock and that was okay until she came crashing into my life. Against my better judgment, I let her embroil me in her shenanigans, forcing us to spend too much time together. It was my doom. She got under my skin, she was all I could think about. I never thought I would be the knight in shining armor to anyone, not until she came along.
Author’s Note: Due to mature content, this novella is recommended to readers 18+
Leah and I broke up again last night, thanks to Kimberly’s ‘payback’. Payback for what I’m still trying to figure out. In the aftermath of Leah coming to my house to scream at me and end things for good—according to her—I’ve received exactly fifty-three text messages in the span of an hour. They were a variation of congratulatory, question marks, and propositions. And they were all related to Kimberly Dawson. Apparently, not only Leah thought I’d hooked up with the girl, but the entire school.
Guys who wanted to be my best buddies congratulated me, my real best friends asked if I was crazy, and dirty text messages came from girls I didn’t even know. I only bothered to reply to Brad and Steve, denying the whole thing, of course.
This morning, my alleged hook up with Kimberly was still on the tips of everyone’s tongues. If she hated me as much as she has led me to believe, then these rumors must be driving her batshit crazy. Best revenge ever, and I didn’t even have to do a thing. Karma is a bitch.
I’m used to people staring at me, but today, there was a difference in those looks. Good Lord, one would think I hooked up with Evangeline Lilly. What’s so special about Kimberly anyway, besides her bitchiness? My friends gave me shit for it all morning, saying that my celebrity status shot through the roof just because I nailed the Ice Queen. I got tired of repeating that nothing had happened between us. I’m not one to brag about something I didn’t do.
I can’t wait for this day to be over. One more class and I’m outta here. Good thing I have Advanced English now, something I actually enjoy. I high-five a couple of freshmen who are lingering in front of the classroom before crossing through the doorway. I freeze mid step as my gaze collides with Kimberly’s. Fuck! I had forgotten we had this class together. Her baby blue eyes are glacial and I feel her death stare deep down in my bones. Jesus, this girl is intense.
My gaze lands on the seat next to hers and I realize that’s my seat. I had forgotten about that too. I can’t believe I didn’t notice she was my neighbor when school started last week. Now that she finally has my attention, I can’t get over how stunning she is. She possesses a cold beauty that hurts if you stare at it too long. Or maybe it’s just the daggers she’s shooting at me with her eyes.
I realize I’ve been staring at her for too long without moving. I put on a cocky grin and walk to my seat with all the swagger I’ve got. Her gaze holds until I stop next to her, and her delicate eyebrows scrunch together. I take my time putting my backpack down on the floor and taking my seat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses at me.
“What does it look like?”
“You’re not going to sit there.”
“Sorry, honey. This is my seat. Don’t like the company? Move.”
Kimberly looks around and realizes there are no open seats left. I already knew that. She retrieves her laptop from her bag, turns it on, and looks straight ahead. I keep on staring at her like she’s some kind of fairy who put a spell on me. She gets a hand full of her luscious hair and begins to braid it to the side, giving me a perfect view of the delicate curve of her neck. Her alabaster skin looks so smooth and soft, I wonder what would it taste like. My dick springs to life, and I come to my senses. I’m fantasizing about Kimberly Dawson, the Ice Queen. I must have lost my mind. I send a silent message to my crotch, “down boy”, as I try to find a more comfortable position.
Our English teacher comes in, and his presence is enough to kill any filthy thought I have in my mind. For once, I decide to pay attention to class and after ten minutes into it, I’m almost able to forget Kimberly’s presence.
Halfway through the lecture, Mr. Proctor explains how our grades will be determined this year. There will be weekly quizzes that will comprise twenty percent of our grades, a final exam at fifty percent, and an assignment for thirty percent of our final grade. The assignment is actually cool, we must choose a classic literature novel and reimagine it in the way we see fit. Mr. Proctor is pretty much asking us to create a fan fiction of our favorite book and present it any way we want. I’m totally down with that. I love to come up with stories. My dream job is to be a comic artist for one of the big guys, Marvel or DC Comics.
But of course, there’s a caveat. The assignment will be done with a partner selected randomly.
I slouch down on my chair and wait for my fate to be decided by Mr. Proctor. I’m not the only one pissed at this development if I’m to guess by the disappointed sighs from my classmates. I steal a quick glance at Kimberly, but she seems to be far away, staring out the window.
“Miss Dawson?” Mr. Proctor says.
“Present,” she replies without looking at him.
Some people laugh at her absent-minded answer, but not me. I’m curious. What’s occupying her mind to make her so unfocused?
“I think we’ve already established that. You must pick a name from the bowl.” Mr. Proctor points at the object in his hands and Kimberly finally comes back to Earth.
She stands up with a jerky movement, and her cheeks are a furious red now. I wonder if she blushes like that when she comes. I shake my head. Here I go again. To my defense, she’s rocking a freaking leather skirt with tall high-heeled boots. I dare any red-blooded male in the vicinity to be immune to her. I’m not sure if it’s the skirt, the boots, or the whole combo, but she looks fucking sexy today.
Kimberly picks up a name, reads it, and her entire face changes from bored to annoyed. She turns to our teacher. “Can I pick another one?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Dawson.”
I watch the girl crunch the little piece of paper like it has done her great injury and I immediately know who she picked. Me.
She strides back to her seat and collapses on it, without a single glance my way. I wait until every person in the room has been paired up to finally address her.
“Don’t be such a sour puss. I happen to be a creative genius.”
She whips her face toward me. “How did you know?”
I point at the mangled paper on her desk. “Did you wish that was my neck?”
Kimberly turns her desk to mine and leans forward. “Listen, Owen. I intend to graduate high school with a perfect five-point-o average. You better not screw up this assignment for me.”
I turn my body and lean forward so our faces are mere inches apart. “Don’t worry. You’re not the only honor student in this partnership.”
Kimberly moves back and her eyebrows almost meet her hairline. I continue. “What? You thought I was another dumb jock?”
“Well, you certainly act like one.”
I suck my lips in because hell, she’s right. People assume I care about nothing besides football and chicks and I never attempt to prove otherwise. I lean against the back of my chair and cross my arms in front of my chest. Kimberly’s gaze drops to my biceps and I swear she swallows hard. That’s interesting.
I clear my throat and her gaze snaps back to mine. “Any favorite classics you would like to suggest for this assignment?”
She mimics my stance, leaning back and crossing her arms. The movement draws my attention to her cleavage, and suddenly my mouth goes dry. Shit. How am I going to survive this?
“I have a few, but I would like to hear yours first.” Her voice brings my gaze back to her face.
“Les Misérables, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, The Man in the Iron Ma—”
“You could have said everything written by Dumas,” Kimberly cuts me off.
“Victor Hugo wrote Les Miserables.” I smirk at her.
Blood rushes to her cheeks again. “Well, he was French too.”
“How about you? Let me guess. Pride and Prejudice, Emma, oh I know, Romeo and Juliet.”
Kimberly’s irritated expression is priceless. “Are you done with your sexist list?”
“Are you saying you don’t like any of the books I listed?”
Her gaze narrows and her lips become a thin, flat line. “That’s beside the point. Why do guys think that romance is the only genre girls like to read?”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your favorite book of all time?”
Kimberly puckers her lips as if in deep thought and takes her time answering. “Perfume.”
“Perfume, the Story of a Murderer?”
“Wow. That is…”
“I was gonna say disturbing.”
Kimberly rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
This easy going banter, despite being better than Kimberly glowering at me, is not going to lead us anywhere. So I decide to take the lead. “Okay, the sooner we decide on the novel, the sooner we can get to work.”
“Fine. How about we each write down the name of three novels and we pick one at random?”
“Sounds good to me.”
I write down my picks and Kimberly does the same. I get my baseball cap from my backpack and we use it as an improvised bowl. I offer Kimberly the honor.
“Don’t peek,” I say.
She huffs and makes a point to stare right into my eyes. I shift my leg, touching hers under the table by accident. She stiffens visibly, but doesn’t make any attempt to break the contact. I might be going crazy, but it feels like the air is suddenly charged.
She pulls a piece of paper and reads it out loud. “Pride and Prejudice.”
“Of course, it had to be one of yours.”
She flattens the paper on the desk and slides it toward me. “This is not my handwriting.”
I smile from ear to ear. “You got me, I’m a fan of Jane Austen’s work.”
The corners of her lips twitch up, but she’s fighting the smile. She opens her laptop again and begins to type.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m writing an outline for the project.”
“Well, turn it around so I can see it, too.”
Reluctantly, Kimberly moves her chair, so we are now sitting side by side with almost no space between us.
“Do you have any ideas?” she asks.
“How about we turn Pride and Prejudice into a comic book with zombies?”
“What?” Kimberly turns to me and our faces are so close, I can smell her minty breath. What would she do if I kissed her right here in the middle of class?
“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” she continues.
“It’s not stupid.”
“We’re not doing it. Forget it.”
I’m pissed now. Her easy dismissal of my genius idea is exactly what I need to rescue my mind from the gutter. She’s probably going to say no to every single suggestion I make, so to make my life easier, I will let her make all the decisions.
“You know what? I don’t care. You have complete creative freedom. Do whatever you want, just let me know what’s my share of the load.”
“I’ll have to come up with all the major decisions. That’s so not fair.” She sounds more wounded than annoyed and I try my best not to read too much into it.
“Nothing in life is.”
Buy Link: http://amzn.to/1RlekLK
About the Author:
M. H. Soars always knew creative arts were her calling, but not in a million years did she think she would become an author. With a background in fashion design she thought she would follow that path. But one day, out of the blue, she had an idea for a book. One page turned into ten pages, ten pages turned into a hundred, and before she knew, her first novel, The Prophecy of Arcadia, was born.
M. H. Soars resides in Florida with her husband and baby daughter. She is currently working on the Arcadian Wars series, the Elements series, and the Love Me, I‘m Famous series.
Arcadian Wars is a YA Paranormal/SciFi Romance series. It follows the life of a group of teens who possess incredible powers and have a very important mission: save their planet and in the process, save Earth too. Books in the series already available: The Fall of Arcadia, The Prophecy of Arcadia, and The Phoenix Shadow. The two final books will be published in 2016.
Elements is a new YA Paranormal Romance series. It focuses on two sisters who hold the key to stop a full-blown war between elemental beings and humans. Look for the first book by the end of 2016.
Love Me, I’m Famous is a NA Contemporary Romance series and each book will be a standalone focused on different characters. As the name of the series suggests, at least one of the characters in each book will be somewhat famous. The first book is slated to be published later in 2015.
Find out more about M.H. at: