Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Less Known Fic (6/28/2011)

This weeks Less Known Fic is brought to you by our very own IllicitWriter herself.  So sit back, grab you a drink and get ready for this one!!! And I got to say I love the banner for this story!!! 

Okay, Kiddies. This week I bring to you a less known fic called: Theories of Bellativity by Kikki7. There are presently eight chapters, all of which were a fantastic read. For those of you who love a good Doctorward, then this is the pick of the puppy litter.

NO, 10 Chapters posted...

Bella Swan is a physician assistant student trying to survive a grueling clinical year. Add Dr. Edward Cullen, a cocky, irresistible ob/gyn resident. Throw in some chocolate, sprinkle with a few of Bella's quirky theories about life, and see what happens.

Do any of you readers fancy a good jackass? No, not a donkey people. I’m talking about Edward Cullen a.k.a Dr. ob/gyn jackass. Yes, he comes in all shapes and sizes, both charming and infuriating Bella to no end. The following excerpt is from chapter two. In this scene, Bella is a standing observer during a medical procedure in the operating room.

"Excuse me, Miss Swan?"
"Um…yes?" Fuck. I suddenly feel like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. I even sound flustered. I inwardly smack myself on the side of my head.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?"
I stare at him dumbly. I blink. Several times I think. Words. He's expecting words. An answer. Brain kicks in and gives my mouth a shove. "No thank you, I'm fine."
He looks back down again. "Very good. Then could you please stop shifting around like a five-year-old that needs to pee? It's a bit distracting."
No, he didn't.
It just got infinitely hotter in here, and I can't tell if it's from embarrassment or indignation. I know the look on my face says it all because now he looks rather amused with himself.
Stupid, pretty green-eyed jackass.

What pulled me into this fic was the excellent writing prose of the author. She delivers character depth, intelligent medical jargon and my all-time favorite— humor. For those of you who know my tendency to flounce at the drop of a dime, Theories of Bellativity actually had me craving for more. Why, just the other day I was rocking back and forth in a corner. I needed a fix and I called my drug of choice chapter nine!
Last but not least, this is my favorite scene that comes from chapter three:

I rifle through my pocket and take out one of my last chocolates. Not wanting to be rude, I decide to be nice and offer him one. His eyes brighten, and he nods, so I hand him a Krackle bar.

He looks at it, and then looks at my dark chocolate. Nodding towards it, he asks,

"Do you have any more of those?"

"What, you don't want it? That's alright, I can take it back…" I say, extending my palm out.

"No, I didn't say that," he pulls his hand away protectively. "I'm just asking if you have any more dark chocolate."

I shake my head. "Nope. Sorry." I say with a shrug.

Clearly undeterred, he furrows his brow. "Really? You didn't even look."
I narrow my eyes at him. Unappreciative little shit. Who the hell does he think he is? "I think I know what is or isn't in my pocket. And I believe they say beggars can't be choosers."

He leans on the table toward me, and raises his eyebrows at me. "Wanna trade?"
I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. "Nope." I say, enunciating the P at the end, and quirk my eyebrow in challenge. "And even if I had more, you wouldn't be getting any."

His lips twitch, trying to hold back a smile. "That's not very nice," he retorts.

"Didn't your mother teach you that sharing is caring?"

I bite the inside of my lip, and feel my nostrils flare. Part of me wants to kick him in the shin and another part of me wants to straddle him and have my wicked way with him.

Stupid ovaries.

"My mother taught me lots of things. Including manners. And for the record, I do not give my dark chocolate to just anyone. And you don't deserve."
His face is a mask of mock indignation. "I'm not sure, but I think I may be offended."

"Oh, I think you can be sure."

That fuckhot lopsided grin makes its appearance again. "Well then, please enlighten me. How exactly does someone achieve deserving status in your book?"

"You have to earn dark chocolate status, Dr. Cullen. And at this point, you barely make Krackle status."

He tilts his head to the side and rubs his chin. "Oh really? So you're telling me there is a hierarchy in chocolate status? How exactly does that work, then?"

I consider it for a moment. "Well, Krackle is pretty much entry level. Mr. Goodbar would be the next level, then milk chocolate. You have to be pretty darn special to be worthy of dark chocolate status."

This is a public service announcement. *cue the obnoxious high-pitched tone* As an author, I understand the importance of reviewing. For most, it is not a means for popularity by way of numbers. It is chicken soup for the soul.
In my humble opinion, this is what a reader tells me when they review: “I appreciate your hard work. I am excited that you updated. I am letting you know that you did a great job with this chapter.” It takes less than fifteen seconds to hit the review button, jot a few words down and hit submit. This is your contribution to us, a payment if you will, for our services. Take fifteen seconds of your time to validate our story; it honestly makes us euphorically giddy. With that said, show this author that you are validating her time, efforts and hard work at providing you with an entertaining read. Enjoy!




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