Because I Have No Willpower
Without willpower, I am bad.
Because this has been another One of Those Weeks so far, I am without willpower.
Therefore I am bad.
Therefore, I offer to you on this blog day, an excerpt from a book I recently read. No, I’m not telling you who wrote it, but I will tell you this one goes into my files.
I’ll also mention that it wasn’t the only such “you said WHAT now?” passage in this book (which is what makes it fair game). Or that the frequency of same didn’t again make me despair at the obvious fact that careful craft and prose don’t necessarily equal sales, and sales don’t necessarily equal careful craft and prose. (Because yes, you can imagine that this author is not, as I am, a midlister.)
And no, I’m not taking the easy way out. I’m not reading from Shades of Grey.
After all that, are you ready? Are you over eighteen? Okay, over sixteen? Okay, not me who stumbled over my first explicit novel at 13yo when I found it–literally–in the gutter? And read it because of COURSE I read it?
Here you are. The day’s wisdom in abbreviated blog form:
“…but his sensual lips had the ability to make her panties wet just looking at them. And she didn’t want to remember how they’d tasted.”