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:
He waited for her to fill her spoon too then together they plunged them into their mouths.
It melted on his tongue, the salty sweetness teasing his taste buds with a hint of what used to be. Chunky, of course. There was nothing smooth about this woman, besides her silk-textured skin. She had killer curves, a crooked smile that made him crazy, and a home with more twists and turns than the country road he drove in on.
His spoon hit the floor with a clatter as he swept her into his arms and kissed the living daylights out of her.
That's all, folks! Thanks so much for stopping by and be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors!
Every time I share an excerpt from this story I feel an overwhelming desire to bury my face in a jar of peanut butter. Anyone else? No? Okay, then. Carry on. :D Actually, I have one awesome piece of news to share before you leave. On Friday I officially signed on to teach another semester at Nepean High School! I'm also the new head coach of the junior girls volleyball team! I'm doing my best to control my Sue Sylvester-esque tendencies, but I may or may not vomit down the backs of our opponents. Have a wonderful week, all!