(The Blooming Goddess Trilogy #1)
Publication date: April 1st 2013
Genres: Fantasy, Mythology, Young Adult
Synopsis:
Sixteen-year-old Sophie Bloom wishes she’d been taught the following:
a) Bad boy’s presence (TrOuBlE) + teen girl’s brain (DraMa) = TrAuMa (Highly unstable and very volatile.)
b) The Genus Greekulum Godissimus is notable for three traits: 1) awesome abilities, 2) grudges, and 3) hook-ups, break-ups, and in-fighting that puts cable to shame.
a) Bad boy’s presence (TrOuBlE) + teen girl’s brain (DraMa) = TrAuMa (Highly unstable and very volatile.)
b) The Genus Greekulum Godissimus is notable for three traits: 1) awesome abilities, 2) grudges, and 3) hook-ups, break-ups, and in-fighting that puts cable to shame.
Prior to the Halloween dance, Sophie figures her worst problems involve adolescent theatrics, bitchy teen yoga girls, and being on probation at her boarding school for mouthy behaviour. Then she meets bad boy Kai and gets the kiss that rocks her world.
Literally.
This breath stealing lip lock reawakens Sophie’s true identity: Persephone, Goddess of Spring. She’s key to saving humanity in the war between the Underworld and Olympus, target numero uno of Hades and Zeus, and totally screwed.
Plus there’s also the little issue that Sophie’s last memory as Persephone was just before someone tried to murder her.
Big picture: master her powers, get her memories back, defeat Persephone’s would be assassin, and save the world. Also, sneak into the Underworld to retrieve stolen property, battle the minions of Hades and Zeus, outwit psycho nymphs, slay a dragon, rescue a classmate, keep from getting her butt expelled from the one place designed to keep her safe …
… and stop kissing Kai, Prince of the Underworld.
My Ex From Hell is a YA romantic comedy, Greek mythology smackdown. Love meets comedy with a whole lot of sass in book one of this teen fantasy romance series. Compared to Kai and Sophie, Romeo and Juliet had it easy.
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AUTHOR BIO:
Tellulah Darling
noun
Sassy girls. Swoony boys. What could go wrong?
1. YA romantic comedy author because her first kiss sucked and she's compensating.
2. Alter ego of former screenwriter.
3. Sassy minx.
Writes about: where love meets comedy. Awkwardness ensues.
Tellulah Darling is a firm believer that some of the best stories happen when love meets comedy. Which is why she has so much fun writing YA romantic comedy books. Her books span contemporary, teen fantasy romance, and YA Greek mythology, and range from stand alones to series. For Tellulah, teen romance is the most passionate, intense, and awkward there is – a comedy goldmine. Plus smart, mouthy, teen girls rock.
noun
Sassy girls. Swoony boys. What could go wrong?
1. YA romantic comedy author because her first kiss sucked and she's compensating.
2. Alter ego of former screenwriter.
3. Sassy minx.
Writes about: where love meets comedy. Awkwardness ensues.
Tellulah Darling is a firm believer that some of the best stories happen when love meets comedy. Which is why she has so much fun writing YA romantic comedy books. Her books span contemporary, teen fantasy romance, and YA Greek mythology, and range from stand alones to series. For Tellulah, teen romance is the most passionate, intense, and awkward there is – a comedy goldmine. Plus smart, mouthy, teen girls rock.
Author links:
My sucky first kiss or Why I write YA romantic comedy books
I don't actually remember my first kiss. And believe me, it's not because there was such a variety of them in my teen years that it just got lost in the shuffle. Which, sigh, is probably another reason I write YA romantic comedy. At least my characters fare better than I did.
While I may not remember my actual first kiss, the first one I do remember is forever burned in my brain. I was fifteen years old and a cute boy (cute being relative to my age and the decade) had asked me to go to the fireworks with him.
Sounds romantic, doesn't it? Yeah, throw that idea out. Imagine you and ten thousand of your closest friends packed onto a beach to listen to a deafening soundtrack of rock ballads while watching the light show overhead. Now make at least half of those people drunk.
But silly, innocent girl that I was, I though this was going to be highly romantic - a night of cuddling with perhaps one perfect kiss as the final firework burst overhead and in that moment of silent awe, I would feel, nay hear our two hearts beat as one.
I remember that we got there about three hours early to secure a spot. The boy had not brought any kind of blanket, so this was three hours of sitting in sand, while families and yahoos settled in around us. But that was okay. It gave us a chance to talk, probably about such scintillating topics as which of our friends was screwing around on whom and what TV shows were we watching. I remember having overlooked the fact that he didn't read because he was cute. (Never again.) It did allow a pleasant sexual tension to build between us and by the time the sun had set and the show started, I was all ready for the hand holding to begin.
Now, skip the hand holding because in a blink, as the crowd around us roared and the first flare lit up the sky, I felt myself pushed back onto the sand and these giant lips come towards me. Tongue may have been hanging out. And while I can't remember that part exactly thanks to some very excellent trauma
repression, I do have a very clear memory of thinking, "this is going to be gross." Which then warred with the thought, "but I am about to be kissed." The kissing won out. Because I was 15 and stupid. But it was a curiously detached experience, with me trying to figure out if his lips were growing and what the polite amount of time was that I could allow this before I shoved him off me and grabbed a desperately wanted tissue to wipe off my face.
Forty minutes. That was the length of the fireworks show (of which I saw nothing) and the amount of time he kissed me with those massive, fleshy, wet lips. I take responsibility for not shutting down the action sooner, but my mother had raised me to be polite and I wasn't sure what the polite way to express "EW THIS IS SO DISGUSTING!" was.
So I kind of tuned out and focused on all the places that sand was creeping in. And not in a pleasant "yay friction" kind of way. At long long last, the show ended. At which point he did sweetly take my hand and we began the trek to the bus stop. I tried one last time to salvage my romantic ideals with a cuddle on the bus, but that seemed to give him the idea that I wanted to kiss some more. Which I so didn't. So I moved seats. And that was the first kiss I can remember having.
Which leads me, good people, to why I write YA romantic comedy. Because while I can appreciate the humour of awkward teen passion, I'm
determined to write girls who will push that boy off them for not being romantic. Or ruining the kissing experience. Girls who will say, "Nope. This isn't working for me." Who will make their boys smarten up and figure out how to treat a girl, even if they have to teach the guy themselves.
And I figure if I write enough great kisses, I'll end up believing that one of them was mine.
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