So I've seen this meme floating around many book blogs, but initially I got the idea from Reading Lark and they got this meme from The Unread Reader. I've enjoyed the meme so much that I will also be joining in on the fun but now on Mondays. Welcome to Book Boyfriends everyone!
- Athletic (like a soccer player)
- Chocolate Brown Eyes
- Coffee with cream skin
Why Wyn's My Book Boyfriend:
First of all, the boy can dance. I don't mean hip-hop or break dancing. I mean the mambo, cha-cha, and I suspect the salsa. Next, he has access to the the ultimate video game where he can create his own world, and what does he create? 1950s Havana with the Tropicana Club where famous celebrities such as Frank Sinatra and Edith Piaf used to hang out, the house his Grandmother grew up in because she misses it so much and last but not least his pet kraken named Larry. Yes, I did say pet kraken. If you're not attracted to a guy with that kind of taste and creativity, I'd have to question your judgement haha. Plus any boy that loves his Grandma as much as Wyn loves Mama Beti is a keeper.
Quotes from and about Wyn:
1) "For all you know, these are just enhancements."
That startles him.
"I...I've never thought about your avatar being enhanced. Is it?"
He looks more than a little perplexed by the notion that the real me might look different. "Does it matter?" I say, teasing him, but only a little.
"No, of course not," he says, his voice earnest. "In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, if I met you in real life, I probably couldn't handle it. I'd faint or hyperventilate. Because I'm suave like that. Truly, I hope you are enhanced, for the sake of all humanity."
2) Wyn nods. "Good luck," he says, but he doesn't let go of my hand even when I try to tug it away.
"You're going to have to let go of me at some point," I say, smiling.
"I know," he says, returning the smile, "but not until the very last second."
3) Wyn blows out a breath. "Right, say no more. No grenades. What have you got?"
"Rappelling gun, crossbow, machete, and a shield. Half a quiver left for the bow. And a potato gun."
Wyn raises an eyebrow at me. "In case we get hungry?"
I grimace. "Long story."
"I'll trade you my brass knuckles for the potato gun," he says, like we're in kindergarten.
"You're on," I say, "but you gotta throw in half of a tuna sandwich to seal the deal."
"Only if you give me the creamy half of your Oreo."
4) "I look at the mambo-ing, salsa-ing, cha-cha-ing Meeple doing their complicated dance moves nearby. "Show-offs," I say, as Wyn and I two-step like hillbillies around the dance floor.
"They got nothing on us," Wyn says, putting his hands around my waist and lifting me into the air. As we twirl around I stretch my arms out like a ballerina. "Thatta girl, princessa!" he says, laughing at my dramatic pose.