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ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
I'm in my early forties, have three teenagers who provide most of my inspiration as well as distractions! I've written several articles for various women's magazines but mostly I write for my children. When they were younger it was tales of magic now as you can see from this present work, it's romance, heartache and the pains of growing up! [October 2001]
Nine Days And Counting Lorraine Wylie
I’ve got nine days to turn myself into a tall, willowy, 18yr old blonde bombshell. Considering that I’m short, plumpish, mousy haired and barely sixteen, I may have trouble meeting the deadline. The reason behind such an incredible if not impossible goal may escape the average, well-adjusted adult psyche but for those of us who inhabit that hormonal, self orientated, mood dominated time zone, commonly known as adolescence, there can only be one incentive. In my case he answers to the name ‘Warren’
Up until three weeks ago I thought hunks like him were indigenous to boy bands, teen mags or my fertile imagination. The usual crowd of spotty, loud-mouthed show offs from the local youth club never gave me any reason to hope otherwise. When Joe Devlin arrived at the Friday disco with his Irish cousin in tow, us girls thought we’d been invaded by another species! Unlike Joe who is average everything, his Celtic relative scored top marks in all departments. As soon as fifteen pairs of female eyes registered the tall, well built, golden haired stranger, there was only one thought uppermost in our collective mind. How to get acquainted with and hopefully snare this gorgeous specimen! The same answer occurred to each of us simultaneously and we rushed forward, gushing our welcomes to Joe who couldn’t believe his luck at such an unprecedented event. Of course Kirsty Donaghue managed to maneuver her size ten figure between Joe and his unsuspecting cousin. Linking arms with each, she enthused over Joe’s designer label T-shirt ignoring the fact that it was last year’s model and the same one he wore every Friday. Joe beamed and preened in the unexpected and totally unwarranted praise. Unsurprisingly, he fell into her trap and rewarded Kirsty with an introduction to the gorgeous Warren. Unlike Kirsty I don’t enjoy the same ‘trophy girl’ status. My mate Jules and I never seem to leave the ‘great mates’ brigade. You know the role. If anyone fancies anyone, we are the go betweens. We fill the matey role until the big romance ends then its back to dancing with each other and serving in the tuck shop. Normally this routine doesn’t pose a problem. There hasn’t been anyone in Parkview youth centre that either of us wanted as anything more than a friend. But since Warren arrived, all that’s changed. Jules and I haven’t admitted it, but subtle changes have interrupted the flow of our friendship. Little rivulets of secrecy disturb the once calm surface of open honesty, virtues peculiar to best mates. Yet each of us know the others secret, only the strategy is hidden. Jules and I have silently but unmistakably declared war. We’ve just over a week to prepare for battle. Our arena will be the Valentine night disco and the prize? Warren of course!!
Chapter One. Feb 5th
Woke bright and early this morning eager to begin my transformation but ten minutes in front of the mirror reveals exactly what I need. A couple of fairy god-mothers who don’t mind working overtime! The image gazing back at me not only has problems with a midriff bulge and fifteen chins but a severe dose of acne now threatens to erupt on its round pink cheeks. Diving back into bed I pull the duvet over my head and lie gazing at the ceiling, hoping for inspiration. Lets face it, fairy godmothers are out. It’ll have to be liquid diets, camoflauge and a couple of Californian blonde highlights. Feeling slightly more focused and marginally better I head downstairs for a virtuous brekkie of orange juice and black coffee. Feeling slimmer already!
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"What a load of rubbish! I think we should be worried about the anthrax threats not what you want to look like...." -- Jenny.
"Actually I find this introduction quite intriquing! It's a pity I coudln't read more. Good luck Lorraine, I think the last reviewer hasn't quite got the drift!" -- lydia reeves, dublin, ireland.
"yes, like this one! come on loraine, whats bext!" -- julie watson, manchester, england.
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