Blog Tour: Not Pretty Enough by Jaimie Admans
It's Tuesday and we are today's stop on the Not Pretty Enough Blog Tour hosted by Oops I Read A Book Again. For our stop we have an excerpt from this contemporary YA comedy written by author Jamie Admans. There is also a tour wide giveaway.
Title: Not Pretty Enough
Author: Jaimie Admans
Date of Publication: August 1, 2013
Genre: contemporary YA comedy
“New Year’s Resolutions:
1. Lloyd Layton will know I exist. He once said three whole words to me, so this is obviously progress. If I don’t get a proper conversation out of him soon, then I’ll take my top off and streak through the cafeteria, because nobody could fail to notice these boobs.
2. I will not get expelled for streaking through the cafeteria.”
Those are the words that begin her mission.
Chessie is fourteen, not pretty enough, and very much in love. Lloyd Layton is hot, popular, and unaware of Chessie’s existence.
Her goal is clear: to get Lloyd to love her as much as she loves him, and she has exactly one year to do it.
As Chessie’s obsession with Lloyd reaches boiling point and she starts to spin a web of lies that spiral out of control, Lloyd turns out to be not quite the prince she thought he was. Can Chessie avoid the gathering storm before things go too far?
-- -- -- -- --
Not Pretty Enough is a contemporary young adult comedy suitable for ages thirteen and over.
Book two in the series will be released early 2014.
Excerpt
I hear the words, “Sir, I don’t get this,” come from the seat next to me. This is very strange because it sounds like Lloyd’s Welsh accent, but Lloyd is some kind of genius and always gets maths stuff. I risk a glance towards him, and sure enough, he has his hand in the air and is beckoning for Mr Griffiths to come over. Wow, I think. Lloyd doesn’t get this, and I look like I do. He must be so impressed.
But Mr Griffiths is a bit busy. He is bending over Cole’s work, shaking his head and muttering. He looks at Lloyd distractedly. Then he looks at me. Then he says a terrible, terrible thing.
“Ask Francesca to explain it to you, she knows what she’s doing.”
Oh, crap. Why can’t we be doing something easy?
I immediately go to put my hand up to object, but Mr Griffiths has gone back to Cole’s work, and Lloyd is looking at me expectantly.
Okay, deep breath. All I have to say is one simple sentence. All I have to say is, ‘actually, I don’t really understand it myself,’ and all will be well. The teacher will come over and explain it to both of us, and Lloyd will ask me what I’ve been writing in my book for the past twenty minutes, and I might have to admit that it mainly involves CC loves LL doodled in various fancy handwriting with my new pen. So instead I say, “Sure, I’ll explain it to you.”
He nods and smiles at me, and I wonder how the hell I’m going to get out of this one.
I close my own book and glance nervously around the class. Everybody has their heads down, concentrating on their work, except for Leigh. She is resting her head in her hand and staring longingly at Ewan, who is working obliviously. It’s pathetic. It’s obvious to the whole class that she’s yearning for him. God, I hope it’s not that obvious that I like Lloyd. I mean, Leigh is practically drooling on the desk over Ewan. At least I don’t drool on the desk. Not very often, anyway.
“Well,” I say, leaning over to look at Lloyd’s book and turning a page, just as he goes to move the book closer to me. Our hands brush together and I pull back startled by the intensity. Our hands brushed! And there was electricity! This is meant to be!
“So,” I say, wondering what to do next. “This is algebra…” This is ridiculous. He knows what bloody algebra is. I rest my pen against my top lip and try to look intelligent and seductive at the same time. Lloyd still has an expectant look on his face. Except, I’ve obviously rested the pen too high up my lip, and it’s tickling my nose. Really tickling now, and…
“Atchooooo!” I yell, a sneeze catching me by surprise. Oh my god. I’m aware that every person in the classroom is staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, holding up my hand. “I just…” Oh no. “Atchooooo!” I sneeze again. “Atchoooooo!” I grip my nose firmly between my thumb and my finger. I vaguely remember reading somewhere that is the best way to stop sneezing. Or is that hiccups? Either way, it doesn’t work. It just makes me want to sneeze more. “Atchooooo!” I yell again. Oh God, this is so embarrassing. Why do I have to have a sneezing fit on the one day I am sitting by Lloyd Layton? It’s highly unlikely that I will ever be lucky enough to sit by Lloyd Layton again; I get my one big chance to impress him, and what do I do? I sneeze.
“Atchooo!”
Oh God. Now my nose is running. I’m still gripping it with one hand, and frantically feeling around in my bag for a tissue with the other.
“Atchooooooooooooooo!” It comes again, and this time something so horrible happens that it’s like being in slow motion. A huge lump of snot, my snot, straight out of my nose, flies out of my nostrils, and goes zooming up into the air, turns around, and like a giant pancake, starts plummeting back down to earth, to land smack bang in the middle of Lloyd’s textbook.
Oh. My. God.
“Ugh!” Lloyd yells and pushes his chair back so fast that he nearly falls off it.
Oh my god. What do I do? What do I do? My face has gone so red I must resemble a lobster, and when my hand finally closes around a tissue in my bag, I have no idea what to do but lean over and wipe the snot from Lloyd’s book, and deposit the offending tissue back into my bag. I’m so embarrassed I could die. And to make things so much better, Mr Griffiths is laughing like he’s never seen anything funnier in his life.
I hear the words, “Sir, I don’t get this,” come from the seat next to me. This is very strange because it sounds like Lloyd’s Welsh accent, but Lloyd is some kind of genius and always gets maths stuff. I risk a glance towards him, and sure enough, he has his hand in the air and is beckoning for Mr Griffiths to come over. Wow, I think. Lloyd doesn’t get this, and I look like I do. He must be so impressed.
But Mr Griffiths is a bit busy. He is bending over Cole’s work, shaking his head and muttering. He looks at Lloyd distractedly. Then he looks at me. Then he says a terrible, terrible thing.
“Ask Francesca to explain it to you, she knows what she’s doing.”
Oh, crap. Why can’t we be doing something easy?
I immediately go to put my hand up to object, but Mr Griffiths has gone back to Cole’s work, and Lloyd is looking at me expectantly.
Okay, deep breath. All I have to say is one simple sentence. All I have to say is, ‘actually, I don’t really understand it myself,’ and all will be well. The teacher will come over and explain it to both of us, and Lloyd will ask me what I’ve been writing in my book for the past twenty minutes, and I might have to admit that it mainly involves CC loves LL doodled in various fancy handwriting with my new pen. So instead I say, “Sure, I’ll explain it to you.”
He nods and smiles at me, and I wonder how the hell I’m going to get out of this one.
I close my own book and glance nervously around the class. Everybody has their heads down, concentrating on their work, except for Leigh. She is resting her head in her hand and staring longingly at Ewan, who is working obliviously. It’s pathetic. It’s obvious to the whole class that she’s yearning for him. God, I hope it’s not that obvious that I like Lloyd. I mean, Leigh is practically drooling on the desk over Ewan. At least I don’t drool on the desk. Not very often, anyway.
“Well,” I say, leaning over to look at Lloyd’s book and turning a page, just as he goes to move the book closer to me. Our hands brush together and I pull back startled by the intensity. Our hands brushed! And there was electricity! This is meant to be!
“So,” I say, wondering what to do next. “This is algebra…” This is ridiculous. He knows what bloody algebra is. I rest my pen against my top lip and try to look intelligent and seductive at the same time. Lloyd still has an expectant look on his face. Except, I’ve obviously rested the pen too high up my lip, and it’s tickling my nose. Really tickling now, and…
“Atchooooo!” I yell, a sneeze catching me by surprise. Oh my god. I’m aware that every person in the classroom is staring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, holding up my hand. “I just…” Oh no. “Atchooooo!” I sneeze again. “Atchoooooo!” I grip my nose firmly between my thumb and my finger. I vaguely remember reading somewhere that is the best way to stop sneezing. Or is that hiccups? Either way, it doesn’t work. It just makes me want to sneeze more. “Atchooooo!” I yell again. Oh God, this is so embarrassing. Why do I have to have a sneezing fit on the one day I am sitting by Lloyd Layton? It’s highly unlikely that I will ever be lucky enough to sit by Lloyd Layton again; I get my one big chance to impress him, and what do I do? I sneeze.
“Atchooo!”
Oh God. Now my nose is running. I’m still gripping it with one hand, and frantically feeling around in my bag for a tissue with the other.
“Atchooooooooooooooo!” It comes again, and this time something so horrible happens that it’s like being in slow motion. A huge lump of snot, my snot, straight out of my nose, flies out of my nostrils, and goes zooming up into the air, turns around, and like a giant pancake, starts plummeting back down to earth, to land smack bang in the middle of Lloyd’s textbook.
Oh. My. God.
“Ugh!” Lloyd yells and pushes his chair back so fast that he nearly falls off it.
Oh my god. What do I do? What do I do? My face has gone so red I must resemble a lobster, and when my hand finally closes around a tissue in my bag, I have no idea what to do but lean over and wipe the snot from Lloyd’s book, and deposit the offending tissue back into my bag. I’m so embarrassed I could die. And to make things so much better, Mr Griffiths is laughing like he’s never seen anything funnier in his life.
About Jaimie Admans
Jaimie is a 28-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, drinking tea and watching horror movies. She hates spiders and cheese & onion crisps. She has been writing for years but has never before plucked up the courage to tell people. Afterlife Academy is her third novel and she hopes you enjoy it. There are plenty more on the way!
Tour-wide giveaway:
$40 Amazon GC + swag
a Rafflecopter giveaway
This sounds pretty good. I love this genre and definitely looking forward to reading this book.
ReplyDeleteThis book sounds so good, and may I just say, the cover looks absolutely beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI love the storyline for this.
ReplyDeleteThank you ladies for stopping by and commenting!
ReplyDelete