I should reach the 25000 word mark today but very possibly won’t… lurking around 22000 at the mo – but anyway here are some random snippets…
Please remember I said it was crappy. and that I haven’t edited it at all. Lovers of classic fiction, sci-fi, or intelligent Booker prize winning literature you may leave – there’s nothing to see here…
That was when she’d looked up and seen the very man she’d just been mentally slagging off making a beeline for her table. She felt completely cornered (possibly due to the fact she was seated at a corner table) and decided he must be some sort of crazed stalker who didn’t even care if his own fiancé was waiting outside. Perhaps he was a serial killer or something. His eyes certainly had a rather fixated look about them. But then, like a knight to the rescue, she spied Niels coming in the room right behind Smarmy Pants and welcomed him loudly and warmly. She saw S.P’s face fall (that’d teach him to stalk women two days before he got hitched) and then she focussed on Niels who was sitting opposite her by now looking every inch the sexy farmer. She felt super glad she’d decided to stay, even if it meant she was going to have to attend S.P’s wedding. Perhaps he’d see then how creepy it felt to be stalked!
As he legged it across the lawn towards the house, Greg made a firm decision (as firm as an afternoon of drinking beer in the sun would allow him) to follow a simple three-step plan:
1. Avoid being alone with Sara. Avoid flirting with Sara. Avoid doing anything to make Sara think you’re flirting with her. Try not to be an ass as she is your sister’s best friend.
2. Forget about Blondie the tart no matter how luscious her lips are, and avoid her at the wedding. Forget about trying to find out what her name is. It doesn’t matter.
3. Make a great impression on Irene. Be charming. You never know, she could be the future mother of your children! Don’t screw this one up!
He just hoped he wouldn’t get completely confused and end up making a great impression on Blondie, flirting outrageously and inappropriately with Irene and repeatedly asking Sara her name.
Azi’s heart sank as she realised her only other choice of store in Montagu was the Pep near the taxi rank. At this rate she was going to end up attending the Karo wedding of the Year in a hoodie and cheap leggings that made ‘knees’ in the fabric even if your legs were straight.
Laden with a tray of corsages in one hand and a cake box in the other, Greg asked himself for the umpteenth time what he was doing standing in the middle of some Tannie’s lounge while said Tannie was making alterations to his sister’s wedding gown. Laurie was behind a folding screen in one corner of the lounge, making little shrieking noises as the occasional pin stuck her through the fabric, but the shrieks were happy ones, filled with anticipation and excitement. Calling over the top of the screen, she told Greg, for the third time, to sit down – that standing wouldn’t make anything happen faster and that he was making the cats nervous. He eyeballed one of the cats which was glaring at him from the doorway, looking more intimidating than nervous, and declined. “Prefer to stretch my legs thanks.”