OLLY’S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE
People call me a lot of things: rude. Impulsive. Thunder cock (okay, maybe that’s just one person. Okay…maybe I made that one up). But all of them can agree that I buy amazing Christmas presents. Need an emergency gift idea? Never fear, my little fucktoads: Olly the Awesome is here to assist!
To inspire you, here are the gifts I’m buying for my three closest, bestest mates–the stars of BEAUTIFUL MESS–this year:
My roomie Tom is not an unattractive guy. I can say this because I’m hotter than him, and if we ever decide we like the cock, I’d be totally out of his league. But yeah. Not at all unattractive, very funny, and training to be a doctor. Have I sold him to you yet, ladies? Because my poor mate Tom needs to get laid, and so for Christmas: I’m buying him a girlfriend.
You read that right. There’s nothing you can’t get on the internet these days. She arrives from China on Friday (just in time to be wrapped and shoved under the tree. Shh, shh…I’ll let her use the toilet first, I promise). I wanted one from Burkina Faso but all the flights were booked…bummer.
Bailey is my other roomie, and my much-treasured chick friend. Every guy needs a girl he isn’t banging to get advice from, to cook for him, to purchase a carefully controlled number of cushions for the sofa. Bailey just got dumped and she needs some serious cheering up, so for Christmas, I’m buying her a fuckload of liquor. And maybe some trashy girl DVDs with sparkly vampires and shit.
What I’d really like to do is buy her an orgasm, because she got drunk the other night and confessed that she’s never had one with a dude. But it turns out that purchased orgasms appear to come with a side order of skinny syphilis. I was going to give her an IOU but my girlfriend objects, for some reason.
Ah, Linc, my good friend and business partner. You know what I’m buying him? Some balls.
See, he’s another not-unattractive guy. In fact when Linc and I don our fuzzy werewolf costumes and post the vids up on YouTube–as we do for our parody company–he gets more fanmail than me (and I’ve got the broader shoulders, the sparklier wit. Where are my stalkers? Where’s my knickers in the post, huh?). So how is it that now Bailey’s single and he’s been batshit crazy about her for, like, ever...he can’t bring himself to do anything? Linc needs courage. Linc needs new balls. Fortunately for him, I found scrot-seeds on some website, so he can literally grow a pair.
So there we have it, my festive fwends: Olly’s Christmas, all wrapped up. And if you want to find out what happens with my besties (they’re so fortunate to have me), you can pick up a copy of BEAUTIFUL MESS from many, many vendors. And it’s free!
Merry Christmas, mofos!
Author: Lucy V. Morgan
Formats: Purchase links
Release date: Friday 25th November 2011
Edited by Christa Desir
Cover Art by Kenny Wright
Length: Novella, 15,000 words
Genre: contemporary erotic romance, humour
Warning: contains pet rats, hot YouTube celebrity roommates, and one spurned girlfriend about to get even…
Working in a wedding cake shop sucks when you’ve just been dumped.
Bailey Frost has a recipe for disaster: one cheating ex, one big glass of liquor, and three well-meaning male friends who think her lack of a sex life is funny. Before she knows it, she’s confessed that she’s never had an orgasm with a man.
Now Bailey has to navigate sappy couples at work, while her friends are hell-bent on helping her get revenge on evil Craig…by dressing up as werewolves, on YouTube.
And one of those friends– the tall, shy-but-gorgeous Linc–might just want to help Bailey with that other little problem…
Showers are supposed to make you feel better, aren’t they? You scrape off the day. Lather up your troubles. Wash that man right out of your hair (Oprah finger snap!). So why, after at least fourteen quid’s worth of Clinique, did I still feel like I was scraped off Craig’s shoe?
I slathered on coconut moisturizer, threw on satin pajamas, combed the curls out of my hair. The only thing the Jäger had done was give me a headache. What was that incessant —
— oh, the doorbell. Great.
The boys never answered the door unless they were expecting food. It was an unwritten rule– a bit like “Bailey always brings the cake off-cuts from work and we feed them to her rats when she’s not looking.”
I tucked my hair up into a bun and shuffled towards the groaning bell. I still wasn’t sure why we went for the musical one that plays the Phantom of the Opera. In the dark, it just got creepy.
Linc filled the doorway, all shoulders, dimples and ruffled black hair.
“Hi,” he said, looking awkwardly surprised. Not that it was personal. Linc(oln) always looked like that. It was his thing.
“You can come in, you know.” I stood aside and he nodded at me.
He practically lived with us, anyway–what with he and Olly’s website.
“Go on then,” I said.
He slid in and I put the latch on behind him.
“Good day?” I asked.
“I killed some servers. I was meant to do that, but then they wouldn’t come back online…and then…” He toyed with his hair. “Then we all snuck off for McDonald’s and came home.”
“Sounds eventful. Maybe if your gay poodles take off, you can quit the day job, like Olly.”
“They’re camp werewolves.” He grinned just slightly. It lit up his whole face. “But yeah. Paws crossed.”
I’d barely shut my door when I heard him talking to Olly in the kitchen.
“What’s wrong with Bailey? She’s all…sullen.”
“Oh.” Olly talked through a mouthful of pizza again. “That cunt dumped her.”
“Shit.” Air hissed through Linc’s teeth. “Is she okay?”
“They were together for like, two years. Do you think she’s okay? Still.” More chomping. “The dude’s done her a favor. I mean, he stayed over often enough and there was never much going on in the bow-chic-a-wow-wow department, eh?”
They guffawed with that manly, cringing laugh that they do when a footballer misses a goal.
They’d listened to me and Craig have sex? Was it even that loud? Why had this not been mentioned in a passive aggressive boy-pun?
Linc tittered. “Oh man. That’s low.”
“It’s true though! Come on, you were here enough times. Creak…creak…creak…sorry, baby.”
Oh God. As if things weren’t bad enough.
“If my girlfriend looked like Bailey then I’d want her to at least, you know, realize that I’m fucking her,” said Olly.
Linc cleared his throat. “Your girlfriend looks like Lucy Liu.”
“I know. I got some sauce with my awesome! Let’s eat.”
I couldn’t sit down. Couldn’t think. I was just so mortified, and so…rage-y.
Lucy V. Morgan is a genre-hopping British writer and the author of the Whored series for Lyrical Press. She believes that fools are made to be broken, rules are made to be bent, and flawed characters are the most interesting. If it’s hiding in the shadows, she probably thinks it’s hot. Originally, Lucy thought that talking about herself in the third person would sound pretentious, but finds she is DRUNK ON THE POWER.
She will now be going for a lie down.
Author’s Website: http://www.lucyvmorgan.com/
Author’s Twitter handle: @LucyVMorgan
Read the first chapter of Beautiful Mess: http://www.lucyvmorgan.com/2011/11/beautiful-mess-chapter-one.html