Why Guys Should Read Chick Lit
What most guys don’t know, is that women’s fiction has a lot on offer. I don’t think I’m being presumptuous about the reading habits of XYs. My husband (who has earned his title of “beditor”) wouldn’t be caught dead reading *girl* stuff, unless I convince him otherwise.
His biggest complaint is that “women sure do think a lot.” That’s right, we do. Live and learn, hombres.
What can guys learn from chick lit? Lots of cool stuff. Like women think it’s sexier for guys to fill up our cars with gas, than to play bongos on our ass. (See what we did there, it’s sing-songy and rhymes so guys can easily remember it.)
It’s not like men are from Jupiter, that’s why they’re stupider . . . (though if the planet fits!) This is just an open invitation to those he-men of the universe to take a ride on the chick slide. (That sounds dirty but maybe it will help attract their attention.)
There are so many smart, fun women writers, it would be great if guys would read it and weep. For extra relationship-bonus points, they can share their feelings in a bedtime book report! And they all lived happily ever after . . .
Publication date: April 29th 2013
Genres: Adult, Romance
“I can’t believe that I’m really not that nervous,” I kept saying being takes. “Acting is so easy. Way easier than writing. Maybe I should be an actress.”
Liam just smirked at Tanya McGonya, who flipped him off with both middle fingers as her arms were folded across her chest.
“This is good for me to get in character and see what it’s like. I can write better drivel than Liam. Sorry.” I shot a quick look at him and covered my mouth.
“Stop talking,” Liam ordered. “Start kissing.”
“Oh.” I guess I was nervous.
“You are doing great,” Brad whispered. He leaned down as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me and my Bra Vo in close.
“Where do I put my hands?” I asked, both palms against his bare chest. Please don’t squeeze the Charmin.
“Over his coat, around his waist,” Liam said.
Brad’s smooth mouth kissed me, bending my head slightly so the camera could get an angle.
“Hold it,” Liam said. “Christ, move around a little.”
I couldn’t move. I was just enjoying smelling Brad and feeling his breath on my upper lip, and really, really liking his two lips resting on mine.
“Hair,” Liam directed. Brad started softly pushing back my hair. My hair was nothing special shoulder-length, that Tanya McGonya curled into a natural tousled look. In Brad’s fingers, it became an erogenous zone. He cupped his hand and pushed my hair behind my ear. He ran his finger and thumb over my ear, and massaged my lobe ever so gently, before getting back to the business of fondling my curls.
My heart was cartoon loud. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a horn ahooga. Liam had us stop and start several more times for different angles.
And then I forgot where I was and started kissing Brad. I wasn’t acting, I didn’t know how. The music got louder, the light seemed to dim, and Brad kissed me back.
“And cut. Cut. Cut. Jesus.”