Love and Lists is the first book in the Chocolate Lovers spinoff Chocoholics:
The foulmouthed offspring tell their stories.
Twenty five year old Gavin Ellis has always had the love and support of his family ever since he was a little boy and couldn't stop talking about his penis. He's also always had their unsolicited advice and uncanny knack of embarrassing him at all costs. Now that he's an adult and trying to convince the love of his life to love him back, things haven't changed very much from when he was younger.
When Gavin's best friend Tyler suggests he make a todo list of items that will ensure he wins the girl, Gavin is one hundred percent on board: after a few six packs.
After puking in the shrubs, a bad experience with Viagra, a Sex Ed course gone wrong, and a slew of other mishaps courtesy of his family and friends, Gavin is pretty sure this list will be the death of him.
Sometimes, trying to make someone love you with a list isn't always the best idea. Especially when "Show her your penis" is the first "todo" item...
My grandfather George is pretty bad-ass. For the first few years of my life we lived with him, and I have some of the best memories ever from that time. He always let me watch whatever I wanted on TV, and I could swear as long as I never told my mom. My grandfather is the king of stringing together long, completely inappropriate words that hardly ever make sense but sound good coming out of his mouth when he’s pissed off. He used to let me practice my run-on sentence curses until one day I said “Shit-poop-hell-freak-monkey” and I was banned from cursing. He shook his head at me sadly and told me he was disappointed in my lack of effort.
“It’s about time you got here. There’s too much estrogen in this house,” Pops complains as he lowers the volume on the TV.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“Sue’s in the kitchen with your mother and Sophie.”
“Dad’s here, isn’t he?”
“Like I said, too much estrogen,” Pops deadpans.
Flopping down on the couch next to him, I let out a great big sigh.
When Pops doesn’t say anything, I sigh again, hoping he’ll get the hint.
“Just spit it out, kid. You know I don’t do the whole touchy-feely thing, so don’t expect me to ask you what’s wrong.”
I should be used to his crass bedside manner by now, but I’m not. Being subtle isn’t one of his strong suits.
“So, there’s this girl I’m in love with—”
“Yeah, Charlotte, I heard,” he interrupts. “She’s not out of your league, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Well thanks a lot. I wasn’t thinking that at all until now.
“She doesn’t know that I’m in love with her. We’ve known each other since birth, and it’s a little hard to just come right out and tell her at this point,” I explain.
“Stop being a pussy and just tell her,” Pops replies.
“But what if she doesn’t love me back?”
Pops shrugs and turns back to the TV. “Then grow a pair and get over it. Jesus mother of fuck Christ in a piss shithole, dick for brains, the answer is bathtub.”
Tara Sivec is a wife, mom, chauffeur, cheerleading coach, soccer coach, babysitter, shortorder cook, genius and albino squirrel hunter. She lives in Ohio with her husband and two kids. In her spare time she likes read, write and cover things in chocolate. Most of her material comes from real life experiences with family and friends. Lucky for them, the names have been changed to protect the innocent (aka, drunk).
Tara also writes under the pen name T.E. Sivec where she can be serious, suspenseful and not at all funny.
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