Crazy Nerdy Love

By Vincent Geyta

Heather Devlin is editor-in-chief of the Star, Statownville University's student newspaper. One day, she receives an anonymous e-mail pointing her to a strange epidemic turning young women into hopelessly devoted girlfriends to the first man who kiss them. She investigates, and discovers to her horror that the anonymous informant is right. But before she can publish the story, the university's jocks, who have been taking the opportunity to easily seduce the attractive girls on campus, get to her. To reduce her to silence, they only have to kiss her and watch her turn into a loving bimbo like the others. But instead, she ends up kissing Daniel, a video game nerd who had a crush on Heather, but was too shy to confess.

Heather and Daniel know they can genuinely care for each other. But the disease afflicting her will not stop until she is Daniel's perfect girlfriend, transforming her from an assertive and lively journalist into his devoted, nerdy gamer girlfriend. They cannot avoid this fate - but can they come to terms with it ?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vincent Geyta
• Release date: Feb 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311623164

Vincent Geyta

I'm an aspiring author currently working in the field of erotic mind control stories. I'm not really the "look at me" kind of guy, but I'm always available for questions and requests !

Book preview

Crazy Nerdy Love

Vincent Geyta

Copyright 2014 by Vincent Geyta

Smashwords Edition

Part One - Investigation

23rd March, 5 PM

My name is Heather Devlin, and I am Statownville University's very own star journalist ! Head of the student newspaper, the Statownville Star, that is.

We have a club room, at the top of the administrative building in the middle of the campus. It's nice enough, but small. I won't complain though, since I'm about the only one coming here anyway. The others submit their articles by email. Some exceptions aside, I'm the only one doing the editing and the printing.

So all in all, I pretty much carry the Star all by my lonesome. But that's alright. Because journalism is my life ! Really, I was born for this stuff. I love snooping around, reveal the truth half spoken and, more often than not, fully concealed. Not that I uncover many worldwide conspiracies, but you better believe I found out just how much closets and skeletons love each other. It's gotten to the point that I can tell who's got something to hide merely by being in the general vicinity.

Many people see me as an annoying, nosy young woman. If I was cute, I'm sure they would love being interviewed. Or at least, they wouldn't mind trying to convince me they're clean. But as it stands, nobody's really interested in gaining my favors, so most guilty people just tell me to piss off. The beautiful, spunky female journalist is so ingrained in pop culture, nobody really cares for an actual spunky female journalist with a big nose, dull hair and ugly dental braces. Aaah, I'm ranting again...So, yeah, journalism. People may not like when I'm snooping around, but as long as they keep reading my articles, it's all worth it in the end.

At any rate, I was in our club room, alone as usual, when I got a strange email.

Dear Statownville Star,

What I am going to tell you will sound crazy, but it's the naked truth. There's a weird disease going around. It only seems to affect women in their 20's, and it makes them hopelessly in love with boys. To the point that they abandon their dreams to settle down with their boyfriends and become housewives. I am deadly serious. Just check the number of women dropping out or failing classes.

If you do investigate, keep a low profile.

Anonymous.

I mean, how weird is that ? Girls going all housewives ? In the 21st century ? Most people would have laughed and ignored it. But I wasn't going to dismiss it before investigating. Especially since it was easy to verify, as opposed to, say, checking if a ghost does appear at midnight on the old rickety bridge over Silence stream. True story. So I went straight to the teachers' lounge. It was after class and the