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Monday Puzzler > October 24th: A family tradition

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message 1: by Phoenix77 (new)

Phoenix77 | 346 comments This was one of the funniest books I've read in a while. This scene is just a taste of the shenanigans the heroine experiences during a cross-country trip with her family.

"You're up, Heroine," Paul calls out over the song.

"What?" I ask, shaking the thoughts of my lonesome vagina out of my mind. As I come to,

I realize what song is playing.

"Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones.

"No." I shake my head and cross my arms.

"It's tradition," Paul presses.

I look out the window and say, "There aren't even any cars near us."

"It's tradition," my dad chimes in.

"Mom never thought it was. She's rolling in her grave right now with this request." I pull the Mom card; I don't care.

"Mom never liked it, but she never stopped it either, so you can't use that excuse." my dad has a smirk on his face.

And I'm supposed to be his little girl! He always takes my side.

"I'm not mooning anyone!" I throw my hands up in the air.

Yes, you heard that right. My family takes turns mooning people. Whenever a certain band would play during our treks, we would have to moon someone in another vehicle or a very unlucky hitchhiker, whichever we saw first. I can’t even pinpoint the moment where this became a rule in my family trips, but once it did, it stuck. Unfortunately for me, The Rolling Stones was my band.

“Heroine, you better drop trou soon or I’m going to pull the biggest groom-zilla moment you’ve ever seen,” Paul threatens.

“You know that is more tempting to me, right? I would pay to see a groom-zilla moment.”

“Not if it involves throwing your precious make-up out the window.”

“You wouldn’t,” I glare.

“Test me,” Paul glares back with a smarmy look on his face.

“Fine!” I succumb. “Next car that passes, I will moon them. You happy?”

“Very,” Paul relaxes back in his seat, humming the words to “Satisfaction.” At that moment, I want to stab the top of his head with one of my pointy heeled stilettos, but I resist.

“Hitchhiker on the right,” my dad calls out.

Just my luck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I look out the window just to find a hitchhiker up ahead with his thumb up in the air.

“Come one, Heroine, drop it,” Paul states.

“There is something seriously perverted about you insisting I take my pants off. You realize that, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Paul counters.

From my view out the front window, the hitchhiker is quickly approaching, so I turn to the window next to the door, take a deep breath and pull my pants down, pressing my cheeks against the cold glass of the window just as my dad slows down Tacy.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my ass hanging in the air.

“He needs a ride.” My dad squints at the hitchhiker, stopping in front of him.

My ass is plastered against the window as Tacy comes to a halt. Pure mortification runs through me as I lift my pants from my ankles, cover up, and scramble toward the table, where I grab my pen and click it so the pointy end is out.

“What the hell are you doing?” I practically scream. “We don’t pick up hitchhikers.”

“Might be fun,” my dad says. “Let the guy in, Paul.”

“No, don’t!” I yell, ready to fight, with my pen positioned in a stabbing threat.

My dad has lost it. I know he’s getting old and Paul’s wedding has been stressful on him, but picking up a hitchhiker? Has he lost his ever-loving mind?

I’m not a pessimist. I’m one of those girls who looks at a glass as half full, but I’m not naïve either. I’ve seen those psycho killer movies; I’ve read the newspaper. There are some screwed up people out there in the world just waiting to find their next victim.

A family in a rickety old RV wearing matching shirts and hats seems like the perfect prey to me.

The door handle jiggles and I pray to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph to save me in this moment, to either spare me and throw Paul into the killer’s hands or to deliver us a hitchhiker with no intentions of harvesting the skin off our skulls to eat as a treat later.

The door flies open and light pours in from behind a man with a backpack strapped against his back. From what I can see, he’s tall, built like a firetruck, and sporting a beard just like my dad and Paul.

Men and their beards.

“Easy there, killer. What are you going to do? Draw on me until I’m dead?”

I know that voice, I’ve dreamt of that voice, I’ve pictured hearing that voice over and over in my head. I’ve envisioned the deep rumble of that voice rolling over every mound of my body.

The man closes the door and my eyes adjust to the light. A small gasp escapes my mouth as I realize who the hitchhiker is.

Hero LastName.

Paul’s best friend and the man who broke my heart four years ago.


message 2: by Dls (new)

Dls | 2080 comments Mod
I definitely have not read this!


Stacey is Sassy (staceyissassy) | 1250 comments This one sounds great. I definitely haven't read it. :-) ♥


message 4: by Missy (new)

Missy (dustigal) | 8 comments Sounds like a good one.


message 5: by Susan (new)

Susan (shaydock) | 670 comments Cute excerpt but have not read this book


message 6: by Leigh-Ayn (new)

Leigh-Ayn | 1153 comments Hahaha that's fabulous!!! Lol
Hahaha omg I have to read this.


message 7: by Manda (new)

Manda Collins (manda_collins) | 1896 comments Mod
Nope. I'd definitely have remembered reading this.


message 8: by Janga (new)

Janga | 1070 comments Mod
I'm sure this is new to me.


message 9: by Rachel (new)

Rachel Hill | 487 comments Omg! I'm embarrassed for her!


message 10: by Irisheyes (new)

Irisheyes | 892 comments Definitely have not read this but I can't wait to find out the answer! LOL


message 11: by Nicole (new)

Nicole (nikanne) | 222 comments I've not read this but it sounds like a lot of laughs!


message 12: by Chocolatesoup (new)

Chocolatesoup | 365 comments Oh, I laughed out loud! Must read :D


message 13: by Phoenix77 (new)

Phoenix77 | 346 comments The book was The Mother Road by Meghan Quinn


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