Archive | October, 2010

When Lila Met Stacey Chapter 14 SUPER EDITION “Mary Anne and Too Many Babies” or “The Morning After”

28 Oct

Claudia Kishi-Lee slumped across the wooden table, absently doodling in the margins of her sketch book. It was Day One of Mission: Rebuilding Magenta Galaxy, but her heart was still full of sorrow. She wished Mimi were here now, to make her a cup of green tea and tell her everything was going to be alright. But Mimi was gone, and everything was a schomozzle. shamozell. A Big Mess.

Claudia glanced down at her outfit. She’d dressed in dark colours for the somber occasion: Grey-and-white striped leggings underneath a black turtleneck, with flat patent leather boots and grey marle scarf slung across her shoulders. The tears weeping from her almond-shaped eyes were cleverly disguised by a pair of Jackie O sunglasses, and her favourite comfy knit beret sat atop her glossy black plait.

The BSC ghosties must've had a field day concocting outfits like this

She grabbed a Hershey bar off the centre of the table and looked across at her friends. Jessica, normally the bubby leader of their company, looked haggard and pale, the dark circles under her eyes a testimony to the fact that she’d barely slept since Monday’s inferno. And Lila was thumbing through the latest Vogue, but even Claudia could tell she wasn’t reading it.

Claudia picked up the felt-tipped pen with a sigh. It was time to rally the troops.

Wear to Start, she wrote on top of a fresh page.

“W. H. E. R. E,” Lila spelled, without looking up.

“Where do we start?” Jessica mumbled, absently picking at an Oreo. “We have nothing.”

“We have something,” Lila said pointedly.

“What’s that?” Claudia looked dumbfounded.

“We have money. We’ve got Alan, Ben, my parents…”

“What’s the use of money,” argued Jessica, “When we don’t know how to use it?”

Claudia set down the pen. Jessica was right – after all, Lila’s finances were still controlled by her father, and Jessica couldn’t organize a budget if her life depended on it. And as for Claudia – her arithmetic skills were almost as bad as her spelling.

Just then, Claudia’s kitchen door swung open, and in burst Stacey, looking flustered yet striking in a pale yellow trench coat.

“I came as soon as I heard!” She cried. “And I brought someone with me.”

A tall, attractive man with a crop of dark hair and slate-blue eyes entered the kitchen.

“This is Nicholas Morrow.”

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Prince Albert is the Wakefield’s dog, but Prince Arthur is their toyboy, or SVH #91 In Love With A Prince

25 Oct

I always liked Dana Larson. She was spunky, smart and her own person [not a pseudo-individual like Olivia Davidson or Dawn Schafer], and best of all, she didn’t fawn over those bloody Wakefields. But in this book, she morphed from Democrat to Monarchist, and totally lost her soul to Elizabeth’s penpal, Prince Arthur de Castillo of Santa Dora.

The TV version was even more awful – in the absence of Dana, Prince Arthur hooked up with Jessica, and the character who was called Lila but behaved like Caroline Pearce revealed his engagement to a Santa-Doran dutchess at a bash at Fowler Crest. Sheesh.

The outfits were definitely the high point of the book

Jessica paused to check her reflection in a plate glass window. She was wearing a crisp white linen minidress, a pink blazer, high heels and more gold necklaces and bracelets than Dana could count.

Dana had thrown on a baggy black cotton sweater and flowered leggings, a casual outfit that had earned her a disapproving look from Jessica when she’d squeezed into the twin’s jeep.

This begs the question: Why does "Winston" have flowered leggings?

Lila stared down at her, her hands on the hips of her red-and-white polka dotted minidress.

“Besides,” Dana added with a smile, looking down at her bike shorts, hi-top sneakers and wacky t-shirt, “When all is said and done, I’m not really the princess type.”

The plot is definitely the low point:

Elizabeth’s penpal, Prince Arthur [you may remember him from Sweet Valley Twins, so 10 points for continuity], is coming to visit from Santa Dora, which is described as being “a tiny kingdom on the Mediterranean seacoast between Southern France and Northern Spain”. Now, I checked with google images and this is all I found for “Santa Dora, Mediterranean”

I recognise this from my 4-year-old niece's stocking last Xmas

I checked google maps, too and nope, nothing. Must be incredibly tiny. Or a figment of Fran-Pasc’s imagination.

So Arthur’s coming to town and Jess and Lila have their claws out, despite the fact that Jess is dating Sam Woodruff, and Lila was molested by John Pfeifer in the last book. I always thought Lila’s response to her assault was quite realistic, but now I see it was delayed by a good four books in which she continued to chase boys.

Liz is, of course, Arthur’s first choice for an American hook-up, but she actually resists his charms and sticks with Todd for a change. I hate Arthur already. Also, I wish Margo had sped things up by five or so books so she could ruin him.

Anyway, we have an all-American welcome dinner at Casa de Wakefield, which is attended by the usual crew-  Ken, Terri, Enid and equally dull date, and Maria Santelli who cant stop fawning over Arthur. Personally, I would have gone for the bodyguards Arthur has in tow, Justino and Paulo. They sound kind of cute.

Dana Larson will have none of it, ‘cause she’s tough-ass Dana and immune to Arthur’s flirtatious charm. At SVH the next day, when she starts spouting her anti-royalist sentiments, Creepy Collins encourages her to aggravate their new guest and have a political debate. Idiot.

“A debate is the perfect solution,” Winston looked pointedly at Maria. “Maybe it will give people, especially of the female persuasion, a better perspective on this royalty thing.” Right on, Winnie!

At The Droid’s band practice that night in Max Dellons’ garage, Lynne Henry [the Linda Rondstandt lookalike who won over Guy Chesney] wants to rehearse a song for Prince Arthur called “Rule My Heart”. Yawn.

The next day, Dana puts together a well-constructed argument about how the De Castillos are corrupt and how Sweet Valley’s democratic society is like, way better than tyranny. She champions for the poor masses who fund Arthur’s glitzy lifestyle while he lounges around and doesn’t pay a cent. Uh, no offence Dana but I rarely see you turning down a bash at the Fowlers.

Arthur blabs on about his philanthropic causes and how he works, like, totally hard.

If you sensed sexual tension…you were correct! At another Wakefield party the next evening, where they are eating hot dogs and slutting around in stars-and-stripes bikinis, Dana and Arthur actually dance. We never find out what she wore, however. Boo.

She does let us in on something though: “I haven’t felt like this since…since the last time I fell in love!” Up here for thinking, Dana.

And so we have our whirlwind, fairytale romance, with electric shocks and various other clichés. Arthur even takes Dana to La Maison Blanche, which must have changed its name in four years because it was definitely La Maison Jaques in SVT. Either way, I’d pegged Dana as more of a Kelly’s Roadhouse kind of chick….

Oh yeah and she actually considers his marriage proposal. Dana has really lost it this time.

But all’s not well – the Sweet Valley News phones Dana, and it turns out that according to Santa Dora tradition, Arthur is only pursuing her because needs a wife by his 17th birthday. Yes, evil Lila did some research and leaked the story.  [GO LILA!] If it’s not Dana he marries, Arthur will get hitched to some mole called Tracey he’s betrothed to back home. So Dana feels used and abused, and tells Arthur and Liz where to go. [Go Dana!]

But then….Arthur grows a spine and calls home and tells Daddy to abandon the custom which has only been around for, you know, hundreds of centuries. He asks Dana to marry him, “not now but someday”, and she says….NO!!!!

Suck it, prince –

For once someone in Sweet Valley realizes that having a boyfriend isn’t the be all and end all, and that there might actually be some things she wants to do before she settles down. Dana is alright after all, I’ve decided. Back to her kick-ass feminist ways.

But it wouldn’t be Sweet Valley without a sappy ending, so I’ll leave you with this disgusting pash in the final scene, when Dana says goodbye to her royal fling:

She lifted her face to Arthur’s for one last kiss. It was warm and gentle and salty; they were both crying.

Ew.

Last note: This was on the back cover, heralding the start of a new age of Sweet Valley: werewolves, vampires, magic jungle prom punch and of course, evil doppelgangers and their identical twins….

When Lila Met Stacey Chapter 13 “Slam Book Fever”, or “Fight Fire With Fire” [where Bruce seals the deal…]

21 Oct


Well here it is my friends: The long-anticipated cover of Sweet Valley Confidential. I appreciate the circle art, but Jess/Liz still looks kinda porn-starish in my opinion. Like Annie Whitman dyed peroxide-blonde leaving The Shady Lady or Kelly’s at 4am. 10 points for the lavaliere, though. Let me know what you reckon. Personally, I’m still haggling for Margo/Nora to step up, which reminds me that you’ve still got a couple of days to get your entry in for a Team Margo shirt

But enough of the official book. Lets get on with the Margo magic and the BSC:

WLMS CHAPTER 13

Jessica Wakefield bit into a forkful of mashed potato and threw her date, Australian Ben Hobart, a seductive smile.

Ben leaned over and flirtatiously wiped a crumb off her dimpled cheek, flashing her his lopsided grin. Jessica lounged back in their booth blissfully. Ben was everything she’d dreamed of – cute, funny and talented, with an adorable accent. They were such a perfect fit, she reflected, she being the muse to his photography prowess. And  he was the first redhead she’d dated since junior year! She stretched out her tanned arms contentedly and glanced across the table. Claudia’s husband, Pete, was shoving French fries into her mouth like they were going out of fashion. And Lila was practically foaming at the mouth as Microsoft magnate Alan Gray tousled her shiny dark hair. Stacey was at a Diabetes America conference in Chicago, which was probably a good thing given that she was the only single one in their circle. It was hard to keep dates around, thought Jessica, when you freaked them out on the first date by double-checking the glycemic index of everything you ordered. Apparently cooked carrots were a no-no, as Aaron Dallas had found out at their Box Tree Café soiree back in Sweet Valley.

Alan completed a foot-high sugar-cube statue and proceeded to blow it down – all over Lila’s placemat. Jessica snorted. But instead of The Look she was expecting from her uppity friend, Lila dissolved into giggles. Even Lila was mellowing, Jessica thought with a wry smile, although the WAG status that came with dating a millionaire computer mogul could have something to do with it. She caught Lila’s eye and winked. Could this day get any better?

* * *

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Go back to College, Steven or SVH # 135 Lila’s New Flame

18 Oct

Before I forget, the TEAM MARGO shirt is still up for grabs here

There is so much I love about this photo. It could only be better if the Chuck Bass of Sweet Valley [yes that’s you Bruce Patman], walked into the frame at that moment.

Since SVH junior year has reached 1997, there’s also some awesome outfits in this one:

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When Lila Met Stacey Chapter 12 [and some Team Margo goodies…]

14 Oct

WANNA WIN A TEAM MARGO SHIRT?

Before we get onto the latest installment, let me digress a moment: As I’ve always said, screw the Wakefields, and bring on batshit-crazy doppleganger Margo  to stir things up. I’m having an absolute ball being the evil twin and killing off irritating sitting charges and Elizabeth-obsessors [Amy Sutton is next in the path of the glittering knife.] So I invite you to share in this contest. [Disclaimer: this is not a SVConfidential official giveaway]
All you have to do is leave a comment below about which Sweet Valley character you would become if you were Margo. The correct answer is “Nobody – I would be myself because Margo is AWESOME!” but you cannot write that, because I just did. Feel free to do the poll at the end as well, it might give you some suggestions. The winner will be judged on the quality of their response, and will receive the kick-ass tee. I just wish I didn’t have to give one away…

TEAM MARGO!

Congrats to Sophie, winner of our last contest,  her awesome Claud and Stace outfits appear in the chapter below. Enjoy your used SVU books, Sophie, I know I did…

But now for Chapter 12

“Stacey and the Fashion Victim” or  “Big Brother’s in Love Again”

“Ouch!” Jessica Wakefield cursed as the safety pin in her mouth pierced her lower lip. She bit down hard, trying to stop the trickle from oozing onto the white Grecian gown on her model.

“Jess!” Claudia yelled across the room. “This seems seams undone!”

“Lila!” Jessica hollered to be heard above the din. “Get off your ass and get the day glo girls in place. We’ve got ten minutes people!”

Jessica finished pinning the gold sash on the model.

“Thanks, Maria,” she said gratefully, glad that the former child actress and Elizabeth’s friend had come to her rescue at the eleventh hour.

Nine of her girls had come down with food poisoning overnight, which barely seemed a coincidence given that Cokie Mason had been masquerading as a barrista during their rehearsal yesterday.

“Cokie,” Jessica seethed as she squatted to push down one of the model’s yellow slouch socks. The creator of Style Masons had been trying to sabotage her Fashion Week show for the best part of a month.

The techno music blasted through the massive auditorium, and butterflies crept into Jessica’s stomach. If she could pull this off, Jessica Wakefield would prove once and for all that she was her own woman, and not some over-privileged twat who lived in her sister’s shadow and scabbed off her rich parents.

She craned her neck to get a glimpse of the audience. Stacey was out there, seated next to Anna Wintour. She looked fantastic, as usual, in a white linen minidress with a purple leather blazer. Pink slouch socks and a silver Tiffany’s necklace completed the trendy ensemble.

Kanye finished his dance and a loud voice boomed across the speakers.

“Presenting…Magenta Galaxy!”

The beat picked up and the audience applauded as Claudia’s neon bright range hit centre stage. Jessica watched with a grin as 13 slim, attractive girls sashayed down the runway, only feeling envious for a second that this time, she was behind the scenes.

The Greece inspired range was next, and Jessica was glad she had talked down Claudia’s idea of poodle skirts and neckties for white togas and lycra drapery.

Jessica held her breath as the last line of models made their way out, a jumble of colours, textures and shades. She liked the crimson teapot-print maxi the best.

All of a sudden, the audience broke into rapturous applause. “Magenta Galaxy, presented by Jessica Wakefield, Lila Fowler and Claudia Kishi-Lee!”

Jessica turned to Lila and grinned. Claudia ran up beside her and starting hugging her, jumping up and down.

“We done it! We done it!” she cried.

It was only then that Jessica fully appreciated Claudia’s outfit. She was wearing an oversized yellow sweatshirt, with a pair of lilac Unicorn-print tights. The stirrups were hooked over a pair of glittered jelly-flats, and hundreds of slim gold bangles adorned her wrists.

“You look great,” Jessica whispered, and she meant it. Having Claudia around had definitely made their show a success!

“Get on stage girls!” A cute-looking photographer rounded them up, and Jessica was all too happy to work it down the runway.

“Nice!” shouted the photographer in an Aussie accent. She squinted into the fluorescent lights, noting that the guy had curly red hair and a sprinkling of freckles.

“What’s your name?” yelled Jessica from the stage, exhilarated. She was so caught up in this moment, she didn’t care!

“I’m Ben!” he called “Ben Hobart!”

* * *

Roger Collins pressed his handsome face between the cold steel bars of his cell. “Elizabeth,” he whispered.

“I’m here, Roger,” she replied softly, “but unless you tell me something instead of repeating my name over and over, you’re not going to win this thing.”

Collins’ brow furrowed, and Elizabeth noticed that his eyes didn’t crinkle up at the corners like they used to. He ran a wrinkled hand through his hair, and Elizabeth realized that shades of grey had replaced the strawberry blonde. He looked more like an old Dennis Hopper than a young Robert Redford tonight, she thought wistfully.

“Elizabeth,” he said again, and she sighed.

He sank back on the concrete floor. There was silence for many minutes, until a voice leered from the cell behind her

“Hey blondie – whassa nice gal like you doin in here? Visiting sugar daddy?” Elizabeth didn’t turn around. She’d spent a night, ten years ago, in Sweet Valley jail, but even the criminals there had been more civilized than these horrid people in Stoneybrook!

“I’m going to go, Mr Collins,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can help you,”

“Of course you cant,” he snapped. “You’re a fricken journalist, not a lawyer.” Elizabeth’s face fell. What had happened to the man who had encouraged her, who’d been behind her [Winston: I’ll bet] all her high school years?

“Journalists solve crime, too!” She retorted, an indignant frown crossing her face. “What about when Jess and I solved crime for four consecutive summers when we were interns at the Sweet Valley News? And what about when we were summer interns at the London times and we caught a werewolf? We proved ourselves to be better detectives than the LAPD and the Scotland Yard!” She glared through the iron bars at the teacher she’d once adored and respected. He was fast asleep.

Elizabeth marched out of the jail with her head held high. After that insult, she wouldn’t have one nice thing to write about Mr Collins. He could suffer the consequences of his years of indecent behaviour toward minors.

“Heathens!” She screeched when she had reached the safety of outdoors. She hoped Richard Spier wouldn’t be too stoned for the trial, and that Sharon wouldn’t hide his briefcase in the oven again. Because she wanted Mr Collins to burn in hell- in Stoneybrook!

* * *

Margo Pike slumped over her chocolate milkshake at the Dairi Burger. She was going to have to start ordering it on skim – Elizabeth certainly didn’t have an inkling of a love-handle these days. That wasn’t always the case though, thought Margo snidely, pulling a photo out of her pocket – it was of Elizabeth in her freshman year at SVU, looking more than a little pudgy around the edges in a pink spaghetti-strap dress. Ha! Thought Margo. She took a bite of her Clam Special and sighed. Bruce was at a tennis tournament tonight, and Margo was exhausted from cleaning out Enid’s old apartment all day. She needed to find a suitable hide-out for the Elizabeth wax-model before the real estate agent brought clients through in a day’s time. She also needed to find herself a lavaliere.

“What the fuck is a lavaliere?” She wondered aloud.

“Need company?” A husky voice shook her from her lull. Margo looked up and gasped. Surely not! Standing above her booth, looking slightly thinner and older than he had on Facebook, was none other than Steven Wakefield.

He sat down anyway, and grinned at her, a flirtatious look in his eyes.

Margo shrank. If the reports were true, Steven was only getting laid by minors these days, most of them Stoneybrook ex-pats. She had to get out of here, and fast.

She glanced over at his wizened face and the five o’clock shadow sneaking across his jaw. She’d expected more decency from her future elder brother. Even if he is a total spunk, she thought with a sardonic smile.

Steven’s hand reached across the table, and Margo knew she had to act.

“I have to go..” stammered Margo. “I’ve got a bus to catch.”

She marched off without another word.

* * *

Weird, thought Steven, watching the girl disappear. He’d only wanted some Clam Special.

But something about the girl’s sharp eyes and dimpled cheeks had drawn him to her. She kind of reminded him of his sisters – maybe that was it!

Steven slurped the rest of the chocolate milkshake. He was hoping Joe Howell would stop by after work so they could hang out and have a chat, like old times. But Joe was busy looking after his pregnant wife, Maria Santelli.

Happy families, thought Steven bitterly. He’d driven past Billie Winkler’s parent’s place 137 times this afternoon, trying to pluck up the courage to go back in and beg for forgiveness from their only daughter. Steven hated to admit it, but he really needed Jessica right now.

* * *

Bruce Patman threw down his Swiss woven racket and mopped the sweat off his handsome brow.

“Nice work out there boy,” Hank appeared on the court beside him, striding to keep up with his brooding son. He reached out his hand to give the handsome heir a formal pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you father,” Bruce responded with grace. “Are we still on for Martinis at the Club?”

“Shaken not stirred,” replied Hank with a grin. “But I’ve just got to duck over to Calico Drive on the way.”

Calico Drive? Bruce wondered. Aside from Margo, the street was practically crawling with plebs. Still, it bought him an hour or so – he was getting mighty sick of Hank’s growing insistence that he get himself a wife. “Like one of those lovely Wakefields,” his father had taken to persuading him. Last week, Hank had even threatened cutting him out of the will if he hadn’t settled down by his thirtieth, which was nigh.

Bruce sighed and took a gulp of Evian. He needed a wife-type, alright, if for no other reason than to keep his opulent lifestyle. But he just couldn’t get Margo Pike out of his head!

* * *

Mary Anne glanced down at the white stick in her shaking hands. “Stay still,” she hissed at herself. One purple stripe had already appeared across the litmus strip. She looked away. This was unbearable.

The second line of purple was edging across the paper. “Please stop, please stop, please stop,” she begged to a god she didn’t believe in. It didn’t. Mary Anne glanced down fearfully. A double line.

Mary Anne’s bottom lip began to tremble. She bent over the toilet seat and promptly threw up.

“Logan!” she bellowed, wiping her face. “I’m pregnant!”

 

Mary-Anne's on her own - can she take charge?

Will Elizabeth put the final nail in Teacher Collins’ coffin?

What will the following nine months bring for Mary-Anne?

And who will Steven ravage next?

Find out in Chapter 13 of “When Lila Met Stacey,” “Slam Book Fever”, or “Fight Fire With Fire”

And don’t forget to leave me your winning comment….

Presenting Magenta Galaxy and Daniella Fromage: SVH#62 Who’s Who?

11 Oct

“I’m telling you, Liz, the boys around here are so immature it makes me want to join a convent sometimes.”

How’s that for an opening line? Right up there with “Marley was dead. As dead as a doornail.” and “Two households, both alike in dignity/ In fair Verona where we lay our scene.” Yup, Jessica Wakefield, right up there with the likes of Dickens and Shakespeare with her sociological observations.

But lets not kid ourselves – the awesomeness of this book lies not in the plot, nor the Wakefield twins nor the D-list characters they dredge up.

On the contrary, this book is in my all-time top ten SVH books [All things Margo-related knocked it out of the top five] on account of the incredible outfits it produced.

Cover courtesy of Shannon’s Sweet Valley High blog

 

The plot is quite ordinary by comparison – Jessica applies to a dating service under two psueudoyms – Daniella Fromage and Magenta Galaxy, and hooks two eligible teenagers, Pierre and Brett, respectively. Daniella is a “cultured” snob based on Suzanne Hanlon, [who Jessica hates but uses to borrow clothes and personality traits]. Magenta is a Dana Larson-style wild rocker, a character that Jessica is going to find extremely difficult to back up because she has no musical talent. Also, she hates foreign films and doesn’t speak French, rendering this whole exercise a complete waste of time destined for a chaotic end. How she thinks this could possibly work is beyond me. I think she needs a part time job. Or a hobby. Seriously.

So, Jessica goes along and dates both at once, and our book culminates in a dinner scene where she and Liz switch between the characters. Finally, Pierre and Brett wise up, and Jessica is ruined until a couple of books later where she meets someone else on a teen phone line. Apparently teens met through dating services and phone lines in Sweet Valley back in the day. Good God. I’m glad facebook hasn’t been discovered yet.

But enough of that- lets see how Daniella Fromage and Magenta Galaxy measured up in the fashion stakes:

DF:

“How about this cream silk blouse?” Elizabeth suggested, picking up the cream coloured silk one she had noticed before. “You have those navy blue linen pants. They would look great with this.”

A square silk scarf in red, blue and gold caught her eye. She made a triangle out of it and held it against the blouse. Terrific.

“Oh that’s great!” Jessica exclaimed when she saw the effect. “It’ll be perfect with that little red bag of Suzanne’s and my blue suede flats.”

I was loving this outfit…then I realized that instead of “black snakeskin pumps” it read “blue suede flats”. Daniella Fromage, you’ve let us all down…

MG:

For her outfit, she had chosen tight black bicycle pants, a black tank top, and a leather jacket she’d borrowed from Lila. Almost anything from Dana’s collection would look right with the ensemble.

“The guitar pick earrings, definitely!” Elizabeth said. “And those black bangles.”

On Thursday night, Jessica had another blue streak in her hair. She wriggled into a blue strapless minidress and fastened a necklace of dice and tiddlywinks [what are tiddlywinks?] around her neck. In among the clicking pieces were scrabble tiles that spelled out “hard rock”.

This is a legitimately awesome necklace. I give it 18 points.

Dana looked down at her wrists. She was wearing four thick black bangles on each arm. They went perfectly with her skintight black pants, black and white-checkered shoes, and lime green t-shirt. In one ear she wore a guitar pick dangling from a silver wire.

Uh, no offence Dana but you look more like The New Elizabeth than a, like, hardcore rock chick.

One outfit: Two Ways

Faced with two dates on the same night, Jessica must appear as both Daniella Fromage and Magenta Galaxy. Being two places at once is a cinch when you have a doormat for an identical twin, who agrees to act as one of the females. But not content with spending the night with just one of the guys, Jessica decides she and Elizabeth will continually switch between DF and MG

“Here’s how we’ll do it. We’ll wear the same basic outfit, black leotards and black skirts, but I’ll start out with Magenta’s jewellery and you can wear Daniella’s accessories. And Suzanne’s cropped jacket. And a beret. And we’ll each have a blue streak in our hair, but when we’re Daniella we can cover it up with the beret.

DF

MG

[I love you guys, but not quite enough to subject myself to blue hair dye.]

Oh yeah and it turns out that Brett S and Pierre de Luc are as fake as Magenta and Daniella – Pierre thinks Fellini is a type of pasta and confuses Ingrid Bergman with “Swedish director Ingmar Bergman”. And Brett gets the Doors and the Rolling Stones confused. These people are weird.

I thought Jessica would learn from the inevitable failure of her ridiculous plan, but no – she and doormat are back up to their dirty tricks when she dates a photographer and a gaffa in the Fashion Victim story arc.

Are you Team Magenta Galaxy or Team Daniella Fromage? After all, this is the one-dimensional world of Sweet Valley where you couldn’t possibly be a bit of both…

Later this week: WLMS Chapter 12 and Your chance to WIN a Team Margo T-shirt [screw the Wakefields – Margo Forever!]

Chapter 11, “Kristy and the Great Campaign”, or “Elizabeth is Mine”

7 Oct

CONTEST still running: Want to WIN a copy of 2 SVU books “#18 Billie’s Secret” and “#19 Broken Promises, Shattered Dreams” [mad prize, cost me $4.50 at Samaritans] Write in or photograph a Claudia or Stacey outfit – it can be from the BSC books or from your imagination – for their appearance in New York fashion week. The outfit will feature in WLMS CHAPTER 12. You can write the outfit description in the comments or email me a photo to winston.egbert@hotmail.co.uk For inspiration go to What Claudia Wore, or any one of the 237 BSC books in existence. The more outrageous the better! And if Stacey wears a necklace made out of her Novorapid pen, I’ll eat my hat.

Chapter 11

“There she is,” Karen Brewer ignored the whispers and turned back to the mirror. She was in the bathroom at SHS, touching up the black eye she’d drawn on with some eyeliner at Mommy’s house. She’d had to sneak off early this morning, before Seth had noticed anything, and she’d even told him a fib about stopping in at the News office before school. Karen felt a pang of guilt – lying was definitely not her strong point. Karen put her nose in the air and marched out into the hallway. Collins had spent his first night behind bars last night, and Kristy was doing some super sleuthing to make sure he stayed in there for good. Although she’d been upset at first, Karen realized now that if she played on her victim status, Ricky Torres would come to her rescue in no time and the molestation would all be worth it.

Ricky. She drew in a deep breath. There he was, outside Pamela’s locker, running a comb through his slick black hair. He turned his head and took a few steps in her direction. Karen’s heart skipped a beat. It was really happening this time!

She puckered up her lips and leaned toward Ricky, closing her eyes. She hoped her glasses wouldn’t get in the way!

“Open your eyes, Brewer,” Ricky was right in front of her, and he did not look happy.

Oh well, she thought. She’d had fantasies about angry Ricky, too.

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