I wouldn’t expect an easy story here…
Shakespeare Burning by Charisse Moritz released in July in the YA (mature) Romance genre.
He’s the boy who wants to disappear. One mistake and seventeen-year-old Shake LeCasse lost everything. Now there’s no going back and no way to move forward. The once-popular Varsity hockey captain is living in the basement of a grandmother he barely knows, ditching school, avoiding friends and working hard on self-destruction.
She’s the girl nobody sees. Cleo Lee survives however she can. Lie, cheat, steal, whatever it takes, and saving Mr. Popular isn’t part of the plan. Telling him the truth about the night that destroyed his life is downright dangerous. She needs to keep quiet, be smart and let the guy she’s been half in love with since middle school throw away a future she’d do anything to have. Too bad she sucks at playing it safe.
My tongue rolls right out of my mouth:
I lead her inside the house, then don’t know what to do with her. She smells weird. Everything about Cleo Lee is weird. So why did I bring her here? Maybe because she is so frustrating, she makes me forget the insanity in my head. Kind of like slamming a hand in the car door to get over an amputated toe.
We stand in stupid silence way too long.
“I need a shower,” she announces.
I nod and say, “OK. Yeah,” because I am the king of cool. Christ, to be anymore pathetic I’d need to hold out a cup and beg her for spare change.
“Can I have that?” she asks, pointing.
I’m still holding the NY Dolls shirt and bag from the pharmacy. I hand them over, and she leaves me standing like a goober in Grandma’s living room. She also leaves the bathroom door open.
I hear the shower. Worse, I picture her in it. I wonder if the open door is an invitation and then wonder what the hell to do about it. So I pace slow laps around the kitchen table.
Cleo Lee is not my type. She’s all hard edges and mean. Then I remember what Rat said, about the rabid wolverine, and I can’t think about much else.
I stop pacing. I listen to the quiet and realize the shower quit. My feet move before I think about it.
I skid into the bathroom doorway. I’m in such a hurry I bonk off the frame, hurt my shoulder and stagger sideways. I am out of practice and coming off as smooth as road rash on a porcupine’s ass. Down boy, I tell myself. Then I get a glimpse of her and my tongue rolls right out of my mouth.
Cleo’s wrapped in a yellow towel, dark hair wet and spiky. Her skin is flushed and her mouth is a pink bud that would look perfect sucking me off. No hard edges anywhere.
This is another new version of Cleo. Soft Cleo is not the girl I know from school and not the one who feeds strays by the creek. I hope this version is horny. Since she’s naked under the towel, I’m feeling pretty good about my odds until she says, “Got any food?”
Soft Cleo is hungry.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Emily Award Finalist and Melody Of Love Award Finalist, Charisse M Moritz divides her life between upstate NY and northern Florida. When not barricaded inside her writing cave or enjoying every possible minute with her husband and three kids, you’ll find her listening to 60’s music, singing offkey and looking for new reads.
- $20 Amazon or B/N GC
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