Here's the premise: It's the year 2033. Since so many people have developed allergies to peanuts in this century, the government has banned peanuts and all peanut-related products, including (*gasp*) peanut butter. Side note: I think that was the most anyone has ever used the word 'peanut' in a sentence. Well, as you can imagine, Morgan, my heroine, refuses to live in a world without PB. So, with the help of my hero, Clark, they build their own peanut-butter-making machine in the secret basement of her home and begin the business of bootlegging. Also, they share a few pb kisses, etc, etc.
And here's an excerpt, continuing from where we left off:
Okay, his laugh. Over the phone it was delish, but in person it was orgasmic. “I’d love to see your basement,” he said, grinning like a teenager about to cop a feel.
He trailed behind her on the abbreviated tour, making comments here and there about the décor. She’d told him she was an interior designer which he seemed keenly interested in. New homes nowadays came fully furnished to eliminate stress on home-buyers. Interior designers, such as herself, had hundreds of themes and color schemes to choose from, but the competition was fierce. In order to stay at the top of the heap, she had to constantly reinvent herself and her artistic viewpoint.
That's all, folks! Thanks so much for stopping by and be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors!
Despite the crazy weather (including ice storms and more than our fair share of snow), we had a wonderful country Christmas. Santa was very good to me this year. I got a magic set, my very own jumbo container of cashews (so I don't have to steal from my Dad), a bright red crock pot (so I can pretend I can cook), a crock pot cook book (so I can look more like an official cooker person), Amazon gift cards (so I can buy more dirty books and karaoke CDs), and moneh, moneh, moneh! Wishing you all a fabulous New Year! :)