Teaser Tuesday April 2nd 2013
Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
~Grab your current read
~Open to a random page
~Share two (2) "teaser" sentences from somewhere on the page
~BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! ( make sure that what you share doesn't give away to much away! You don't want to ruin the book for others!)
~Share the title & author too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!
Today I'm reading:
Broken
A. E. Rought
(Goodreads)
“Emma!” Bree pokes her face out of the doorway. Her fake blond hair swings out like a flag. “ Didn't you get my text? I’m saving you a spot.”
That was what the text was about? She always saves me a spot in line, I just forgot. Good thing Bree’s parents put her on an unlimited plan for her phone. I look up, blink and try to focus—when tired and a tad flustered, I run on auto-pilot, which includes standing in lines.
“Hey,” whines a zit-faced, greasy-haired freshman, “no saving spots.”
“When you’re an upperclassman,” comes a smooth tenor voice behind him, “you’ll use the same unwritten privileges.”
Heads swivel toward the source. Mine, too.
Tall, hood up, long sleeves pulled down over his wrists and thumbs shoved through the cuffs. Sadly, I look to see how well Alex Franks’s jeans look on his butt. The girls in the Ugly Room didn't lie. He wears them well, fills them in all the right spots. No sooner does the admiration of Alex’s behind form, than a twinge of guilt pinches my heart. A ghost of Daniel’s memory glides behind my eyes. I don’t need to look at another guy, especially Alex Franks, when I have perfect memories.
Shaking my head, I schlep along the queue of shocked faces, then pause by his shoes.
Alex wears a bemused smile in the shadows of his hood.
“Thanks.”
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Today I'm reading:
Broken
A. E. Rought
(Goodreads)
“Emma!” Bree pokes her face out of the doorway. Her fake blond hair swings out like a flag. “ Didn't you get my text? I’m saving you a spot.”
That was what the text was about? She always saves me a spot in line, I just forgot. Good thing Bree’s parents put her on an unlimited plan for her phone. I look up, blink and try to focus—when tired and a tad flustered, I run on auto-pilot, which includes standing in lines.
“Hey,” whines a zit-faced, greasy-haired freshman, “no saving spots.”
“When you’re an upperclassman,” comes a smooth tenor voice behind him, “you’ll use the same unwritten privileges.”
Heads swivel toward the source. Mine, too.
Tall, hood up, long sleeves pulled down over his wrists and thumbs shoved through the cuffs. Sadly, I look to see how well Alex Franks’s jeans look on his butt. The girls in the Ugly Room didn't lie. He wears them well, fills them in all the right spots. No sooner does the admiration of Alex’s behind form, than a twinge of guilt pinches my heart. A ghost of Daniel’s memory glides behind my eyes. I don’t need to look at another guy, especially Alex Franks, when I have perfect memories.
Shaking my head, I schlep along the queue of shocked faces, then pause by his shoes.
Alex wears a bemused smile in the shadows of his hood.
“Thanks.”
I've started using bloglovin' a great way to keep up on your favorite blogs.
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