November Author of the Month: JustAFantasyGirl

Hello, everyone! I have an excuse for waiting until the last day of the month this time, I did NaNoWriMo this month. Anyway, the Author of the Month for November is JustAFantasyGirl! She writes AU fics; I've gotten way more into those lately. I'd like to talk about two of her stories although she has more.

This is a PG-13 rec, not for language, but for actual content. If you are under the age of thirteen, or that three-letter "s" word makes you squeamish, then this author's probably not for you. Sorry.

Pass the Tequila, I Think I'll Be Needing It is a fun, happy AU based around an extracurricular trip in a European (Scottish, I think) school system. To use an analogy, think of a classic play, like Romeo and Juliet, and then some random fun one that your school's drama department did. Even though no one's heard of the play except for the kids who are in it, that one is as, or even more, enjoyable than Romeo and Juliet, a world-renowned work. Pass The Tequila, I Think I'll Be Needing It is the same way. Although there are more POV switches than I personally like, and it's a plot that is extremely paring driven, it's fun and exciting, and the chapters are written in a way that you can't help but hit the next button, regardless of whether you have the time or not. 

Johanna's POV 

Shoot me. Just shoot me right now. Preferably not in the foot or the leg so I can still make an attempt of running away from this. 

"Hey coach," Gale greeted my uncle, not letting me out of our embrace in an attempt to cover me. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. "No actually I don't want to know. Not after Mag's Christmas party fiasco," he added quickly and I blushed into Gales chest, remembering how most of my family had heard us having sex. At least Mags had thought we were just being kids and jumping on the bed. I don't think I'd ever grow up in her eyes. 

"We were just swimming and then umm… a fish came along… and it ate our clothes… and now we can't… umm… remember where we left our stuff," Gale tried and failed epically to think of any reason we would be like this. 

"I swear to God if I ever have to see you naked again Hawthorne it will not be pretty," my uncle sighed. At least he was tolerant. And a lot calmer than the first time he'd figured out we had one hell of an odd relationship going on. 

"Are you saying it's pretty now?" I asked, unable to hold my tongue as my sarcasm took over. 

"Johanna now is not the time. Nor will there ever be a time when I want to discuss the "prettiness" of your boyfriend, or thing, whatever the hell this is. Bring a nice girl home and I will gladly sit and talk about it all night with you," he answered and I could hear his smirk. "Put this on," he added and I felt Gale pull a t-shirt over my head. I obediently put my arms into it.

It's a fun one; definitely check it out.

My favorite story by her is actually Dancing with Shadows. This one's got a concept that's worth A MILLION BUCKS! It's amazing anyway, but then she drops this huge bomb, and then ERMAGHERD! Yes, I just said "ermagherd". Stuff just got real. The concept is that the Hunger Games is a huge psychological mind game, not an actual death game. Those who "die" are sent to a top-secret underground compound called District 14 where they are trained to be a secret army just in case the victors eventually try to start a rebellion. President Snow knows that the best way to shut the victors down is make them fight the same people they "killed" in their Games. The story focuses on Cato and Clove as they deal with the complete contradiction of what they spent their entire lives training for.

I woke up staring at the ceiling. Last night had not been my best nights sleep. When I hadn't been dreaming about murdering children or my own death images of what could have happened to Cato in the arena would make random appearances. After the time a bear ripped him to shreds I had given up on sleep and headed to the living room. I admired the bookcase; it was lined with books I'd never heard of. They were beautiful though, all of them old looking leather bound copies with golden fancy looking letters on them. I had run my hand along them, as if I could absorb their knowledge through simply touching them. Eventually settling on something called "The Importance Of Being Earnest" I hurried back to bed. I was confused at first; it wasn't like a usual book. It seemed to be set up like a show, but not like a television show where there could have been as many takes as possible but a show with a live audience it seemed. In spite of this I had continued reading but had only made it to the end of "Act One, Scene One" before drifting off into a much happier sleep. Well when I say happier, I really mean dreamless, but I figure that's as good as it's going to get now. 

I pulled myself out of bed and into the shower in the en-suite. This whole dying thing wasn't as bad as I'd thought it was going to be, well minus the fact that after out chat last night Cato had seemed even weirder if that was possible. Now he was just silent, sulking around the apartment like the world had ended. I mean I get why it's going to be difficult for him, he was clearly far more affected by the Games than the rest of us, but I still kept wishing he'd just snap out of it. 

I did love showers. We'd had them at home but they couldn't compare to the standards of the Capitol showers. I exhaled as the water warmed my back, instantly making the front of me feel colder, I turned around and allowed the water to trickle over my face, removing the final traces of sleep from my eyes. I ran my hands through my hair and went about cleaning myself, removing any traces of the night from me. What was at least half an hour later I emerged from the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. I headed into the bedroom to get some clothes and nearly dropped the towel in shock. 

"Jesus Cato what are you doing here?" I screamed at him. Confused and depressed he may be but there are still limits to what I can deal with at six in the morning.
Naturally he didn't answer. Because that would've been far too useful for me. He simply got up walked over took my head in his hands and kissed me. Of course naturally I didn't resist; my Cato was back! He remembered! He felt the way he had in the Games! I allowed his lips to part mine as the kiss deepened, I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around him, but it meant losing the towel and well I didn't think we were ready for that yet. So instead I let his hands do the wandering. Let them explore the nape of my neck, let his fingers run through my hair, let his fingertips tickle down my back. When he pulled away I almost pulled him back in, then I remembered it wasn't my place to do that. I had to do this at his pace if I wanted it to happen at all. He was looking at me, not smiling but like he was trying to work something out before walking off. 

"Good morning to you too then sweet cheeks," I muttered at the doorframe he'd just departed through.

Messed up Cato. Winning. And there's a huge plot twist that comes in as well. Yes. It's amazing. 

JustAFantasyGirl's work is awesome, please check out her writing here!

-cindella204