My Bonnie

Wynne's Surprise on Amazon
Wynne's Surprise on ARe

I was about to write something in Arabic, then I remembered how much er naughty time is in this book and thought the better. Instead... Bonsoir! Wynne's Surprise has arrived! You've got Scots, and Morocco and Scotland and LA and London and all round good clean fun! I know that last bit was a lie, but Hot Muse Hank said I should give it a go, and see if... Yes, he's rolling around laughing. Brute.

Anyways, give my lovers are very and rather proudly Scottish. I've done a brief glossary to help:

Boaby - male member (look at me being all demure!)
Box - head
Canny - cannot Modern Scots (18th Century/ Robert Burns gen is 'canna')
Get tae fuck - (I lasted half a page, well done me!) get out of it!
Maw - mother
Nae - not
Nip - a sip, or knowing a Scot, half a glass...
Tatties - potatoes
Weegie - a person hailing from Glasgow - the maddest of the bunch.


And if that's not enough to get you going, have a wee nip of this:

Let This Moose Loose Aboot This Hoose!

She woke up with a jolt, tucked between the velvet softness of her sofa and the dense muscles of Bren’s chest. He stirred above her head.

“Are you okay?”

“I had the weirdest dream.”

“About?” he asked on a yawn.

“I had three tits and you were fondling all of them.”

Bren burst out laughing. “Why on earth would you dream about that?”

“I don’t even know.” She lifted her head and squinted at the clock. Midnight.

“Some nap,” Bren yawned again, untangling his arms from her body to stand up. He looked adorably rumpled. “Shall I get us some tea?”

“Aye, and maybe a snack or something.”

“Yes, madam,” he sarked in a Queen’s English tone, strolling into the kitchen and leaving Wynne to sit up. The sensation of oddness hadn’t abated with the nap, and the strange dream only compounded matters. Who needed three breasts? The overwhelming emotion that came from the dream was how much she’d enjoyed Bren’s manipulations.

She noticed her phone on the table by the lamp. Masochism forced her to her feet and to pick up the mobile. While Bren made tea in the background, Wynne stared at the screen. Okay, maybe she’d crossed a few lines, perhaps a page or a notebook of lines, or rather they both had, but at least they hadn’t crossed it all the way. Six missed calls from Robert, seared her with guilt.

Discomfort forced her to read the text messages he’d sent:

I’m sorry about today. Can you call me?

Wynne, it’s Valentine’s Day. Why won’t you answer?

Have you gone out?

You’re being really disrespectful.

“Tea,” Bren said and Wynne jumped in fright. She whipped around and saw him holding two mugs, an eyebrow curled. “I did tell you I was making it.”

“Of course you did. Sorry. I’m sorry.” She repeated the apology before taking the mug into her hands. Bren glanced down at her phone.

“Robbie?”

She hesitated. Bren took the tea and nodded her in the direction of her bedroom. “Go and call him.”

Wynne blinked, leaning away from him. “What?”

“Call him and tell him you’re going on a break. You’ll be back in a week, and you can talk then. If you want to.”

Word for word exactly what she wanted to say to Robert. Clearly, Bren was a better friend to her than to Robert. “Okay. I’ll be a few minutes.”

She scampered to her bedroom and gently closed the door behind her, resting against the wood for some semblance of reality to lock her to the ground.

That line she’d crossed with Bren a few hours ago seemed more and more blurred. Technically, not calling your girlfriend on Valentine’s Day until after she agreed to a holiday with her male friend she had intense sexual feelings for, could be considered as a breakup. Right?

So are we ready, steady, Eddie? Let's get surprising!