Book Blurb
This road trip wasn’t to be just any road trip, but a very special one indeed. An adventure with an acutely specific purpose-- to find our other halves. The peanut butter to our jelly. The i to our Phone. The stripper to our pole.
If our romantic desires were a personal ad, they would read something like this.
** Two sassy women (Ages twenty-seven and forty-nine respectively--Ouch. Okay, ages twenty-seven and thirty--with nineteen years experience-- respectively) seeking Alpha Males to love us with zeal and kiss us with skill. Gorgeous face and sexy, tattooed, hard body a must. If you aren’t a dangerous bad*ss with the x-rated skills and virility to match, don’t bother. Must be willing to protect us from danger, value our quirkiness, and keep your mouth shut when said quirkiness is what leads to said danger. Momma’s boys named Dan Smith need not apply.**
I know. It’s a bit wordy. In fact, it would probably cost a fortune. Luckily, we’re not ready for the personal ad. We’re not that desperate...yet.
This is my story.
Goodreads
As we bobbed along, I watched in horror as my mom reached for her phone, leaned over next to me, held it out, and snapped our picture.
I could hardly believe something like this was happening in reality and not in some alternate universe.
“I’m sorry. Did you just snap a ‘selfie’ while we’re driving? It’s going to come out horrible!” I grumbled loudly.
Sighing, my mom responded, “Oh relax, Haley. We need documentation. Don’t you want something to use to embarrass your children one day?”
Of course I wanted to embarrass my children one day. Isn’t that why people had kids?
Besides free labor, I mean.
What I was afraid of, however, is that the only person that photo would embarrass would be me. “Mom, you know I take horrible pictures as it is...driving and distracted, it’s bound to be atrocious.”
My mom pulled the phone back out, flipping to the camera roll to prove me wrong as she assured me, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
When she got to the picture, looked at it, and then changed her tune, I knew I was right on target. “Okay, so I’ll delete it. But we have to take more pictures!”
Thinking about taking more pictures, even if they weren’t selfies taken while driving, did nothing to alleviate my concerns. I swear, I took the worst pictures ever. I either looked like I was passing out, or drugged, or had one eye that was bigger than the other in every picture I took. I’m telling you, I always came out hideous.
The funny thing was, I was pretty sure I didn’t look like that in real life. Either that or I had the exact opposite problem of every woman on the planet...self-esteem that was skewed higher than it should be. I would never know for sure because anyone I could ask was always biased (my family) or telling me I was ugly would be counterproductive to their goals (men who wanted in my pants). You’d think that the fact that men wanted in my pants would be proof enough, but you’d be wrong. Men are animals. Just having a vagina was enough, but I also had a great body, a perfect mixture of soft bountiful curves and a flat stomach. That I knew for sure. These things alone would make a guy go for it, even if I was a “Butterface” (Everything is hot but her face).
Hunter had filled me in on that fun little term. Seriously, guys were animals.
That didn’t stop me from wanting one.
And to be honest, I wanted pictures too. Even if I did look like a one-eyed bum in all of them.
“Alright, Mamalicious. We’ll take more pictures. At least one of us will look good.”
Knowing full well that I meant her, she smiled and teased, “Good. I’m the only one who really matters anyway.”
I let her have her moment without retorting and turned up the radio as Tim McGraw’s “Truck Yeah” came through the speakers.
“Did you see how good Tim looks in the video for this song?” my mom questioned.
“Truck yeah, I did. He gets better every day he gets older, and that video is nothing but a testament to that fact.”
I looked over to see that my mom had her head resting back on the seat, her eyes closed, and she looked like she wasn’t listening to a word I said.
“Mom?” I prompted.
When she didn’t respond I barked, “Mom!”
She came back to this world with a full body jerk and muttered, “Sorry, yeah. Sweet baby Jesus. I was just picturing him and I kind of got distracted.”
Laurel Ulen Curtis is a 26 year old mother of one. She lives with her husband and son (and cat and two fish!) in New Jersey, but grew up all over the United States. She graduated from Rutgers University in 2009 with a Bachelor of Science in Meteorology, and puts that to almost no use other than forecasting for her friends! She has a passion for her family, laughing, and reading and writing Romance novels.
http://www.facebook.com/laurelulencurtis
http://Laurelulencurtis.blogspot.com
www.twitter.com/LUCurtisAuthor
www.pinterest.com/Laurelcurtis/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6912103.Laurel_Ulen_Curtis
Book Excerpt
I could hardly believe something like this was happening in reality and not in some alternate universe.
“I’m sorry. Did you just snap a ‘selfie’ while we’re driving? It’s going to come out horrible!” I grumbled loudly.
Sighing, my mom responded, “Oh relax, Haley. We need documentation. Don’t you want something to use to embarrass your children one day?”
Of course I wanted to embarrass my children one day. Isn’t that why people had kids?
Besides free labor, I mean.
What I was afraid of, however, is that the only person that photo would embarrass would be me. “Mom, you know I take horrible pictures as it is...driving and distracted, it’s bound to be atrocious.”
My mom pulled the phone back out, flipping to the camera roll to prove me wrong as she assured me, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
When she got to the picture, looked at it, and then changed her tune, I knew I was right on target. “Okay, so I’ll delete it. But we have to take more pictures!”
Thinking about taking more pictures, even if they weren’t selfies taken while driving, did nothing to alleviate my concerns. I swear, I took the worst pictures ever. I either looked like I was passing out, or drugged, or had one eye that was bigger than the other in every picture I took. I’m telling you, I always came out hideous.
The funny thing was, I was pretty sure I didn’t look like that in real life. Either that or I had the exact opposite problem of every woman on the planet...self-esteem that was skewed higher than it should be. I would never know for sure because anyone I could ask was always biased (my family) or telling me I was ugly would be counterproductive to their goals (men who wanted in my pants). You’d think that the fact that men wanted in my pants would be proof enough, but you’d be wrong. Men are animals. Just having a vagina was enough, but I also had a great body, a perfect mixture of soft bountiful curves and a flat stomach. That I knew for sure. These things alone would make a guy go for it, even if I was a “Butterface” (Everything is hot but her face).
Hunter had filled me in on that fun little term. Seriously, guys were animals.
That didn’t stop me from wanting one.
And to be honest, I wanted pictures too. Even if I did look like a one-eyed bum in all of them.
“Alright, Mamalicious. We’ll take more pictures. At least one of us will look good.”
Knowing full well that I meant her, she smiled and teased, “Good. I’m the only one who really matters anyway.”
I let her have her moment without retorting and turned up the radio as Tim McGraw’s “Truck Yeah” came through the speakers.
“Did you see how good Tim looks in the video for this song?” my mom questioned.
“Truck yeah, I did. He gets better every day he gets older, and that video is nothing but a testament to that fact.”
I looked over to see that my mom had her head resting back on the seat, her eyes closed, and she looked like she wasn’t listening to a word I said.
“Mom?” I prompted.
When she didn’t respond I barked, “Mom!”
She came back to this world with a full body jerk and muttered, “Sorry, yeah. Sweet baby Jesus. I was just picturing him and I kind of got distracted.”
Author Info
http://www.facebook.com/laurelulencurtis
http://Laurelulencurtis.blogspot.com
www.twitter.com/LUCurtisAuthor
www.pinterest.com/Laurelcurtis/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6912103.Laurel_Ulen_Curtis
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