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:
Lips fused together. He propelled her toward the table, until her back was flat against it, her thighs still pressed to his. “I can’t wait to work with you, Morgan.” His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, exposing the smooth, creamy expanse of her stomach.
“Me too,” she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I wanna make peanut butter with you, Clark.” Her toes curled around his calves to pull him closer. “Slow, smooth, sweet peanut butter.”
That's all, folks! Thanks so much for stopping by and be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors!
How excited am I that the Olympics are on right now? Like, there are no words. Just so far BEYOND excited I can't even stand myself. I remember when I was in high school and my parents went to Mexico for a vacation. My grandparents came to look after me and my brother, and the entire week I faked being sick so I could stay home to watch the '98 Olympics in Nagano. I know they knew I was faking, but they just loved to see the dramatic lengths I would go to in order to prove I was truly on my death bed. I'd do it all over again too. Wishing you all a sensational and sporty week! Go, Team Canada! :)