After setting up Wattbad’s header and about page, I thought I’d drag my baited line through the Wattpad waters in search of a bite. This is literally the first thing I clicked on, and don’t you mistake that for a figure of speech. Let’s dive in.
“Mine,” he scowled as he looked directly through my eyes, as if he was staring deep into my soul. An ecstatic and euphoric scent made its way to me that sent shivers through every part of my body; from head down to the tip of my toes.
A look so dirty it can talk, plus about four cliches crammed into two sentences. We’re off to a great start.
‘Mate!’ screamed, my wolf.
‘Biological imperative!” screamed, Captain, Kirk.
He pinned me to the wall, both my hands on top of my head that was held together by his right hand.
Good thing he was there to stop your head falling apart. I hope you thanked him.
He leaned in closer to my face, so close that I could already feel his minty breath.
His ecstatically, euphorically, carnally minty breath.
This book contains a lot of mature and adult contents.
A whole table of them.
Don’t tell me I did not warn you.
You did not warn me.
If you can’t bear wrong grammars and cliché plots then I suggest you stop reading from here. This is my book and I don’t want you criticizing me or my book if it does not satisfy you or meet your expectations.
By your command.
Have you ever had that feeling that you literally want to break all the damn alarm clocks that has been invented just so you could go back to sleep?
I live so close to the center of the universe that whenever it’s time for me to wake up, every single alarm clock ever invented goes off. So my answer is yes.
I am literally itching to throw this stupid annoying little box across my room
You might want to have a doctor look at that.
but I can’t, it would cost me another 5 dollars to buy my 6th alarm clock this year! Despite the urge to break it again, nevertheless, I smashed it down and covered my face with a pillow and went back to sleep. Finally!
“The most effective way to spite one’s own urges is to act in perfect accordance with them.”
–Lord Henry Wotton
Just when I was about to set off to dreamland, my door suddenly flung open.
I had expected a slow and predictable flinging.
“Sapphire Kirsten, get your ass up and prepare for school! ” Ugh. Sometimes I actually wonder if my best friend is my mom. I mean come on, [long description of her friend doing stereotypical mom things]. It’s like a mother trapped inside an 18-year old body.
Does your friend also live in your house?
“Geez. Rachel it’s like freakin’ 6 in the morning. I need to sleep, more ” I whined as buried my face on the pillow even more but not the extent that I’m suffocating myself. I’d be dead by now.
And that would be a shame.
I should be partying and going to night clubs and all but never in my 17 years of existence in this world, I’ve experienced that. Why?
Because you’re actually only thirteen and have an extremely romanticised image of what it means to be four years older?
Simple, because I’m obliged to follow the rules and agreements in our Pack.
Just like in the human world, I can only get imprisoned, get married and earn my driver’s license until I am 17.
But that’s wrong. Rules for humans are completely different from rules for werewolves: we can do all of those things after 17. But you’re a werewolf, which means that, as you said, once you turn 17 you’ll never go to prison, which is nice. You’ll also remain a bike-riding spinster until death, which is not so nice, but that’s the deal your foredoggies made for their progeny’s freedom.
And I still need to wait for freaking 6 months until I get to be liberated. Sad life for me.
Liberated from imprisonment, from marriageability and from driving. It’s a tough deal, I know, but we can’t have free werewolves running around eviscerating their spouses and smashing their cars into things every full moon.
[Detailed descripion of clothing, accessories and perfume brands.]