We’re so excited about Lingerie For Felons, a new contemporary romance from Ros Baxter, that we’re providing a sneak peek – and a copy to a lucky commenter. For details on how to enter, see below!

If there’s one universal truth, it’s this: You’re always wearing your worst underwear when you land in trouble.

Lola’s parents told her that everyone can make a difference. And she believed them. She’s been fighting the good fights since she was eleven years old. But at 23, Lola falls hard for an Australian stockbroker who thinks Doctors Without Borders is a porno and Joni Mitchell sounds like a harp seal being battered to death. She cuts him loose, but over the next fifteen years, through protests, misunderstandings, humiliating predicaments, and a number of poor underwear choices, their lives and paths continue to converge.

Along the way, Lola learns a few important life lessons: Never wear a red lace thong to a strip search. Make sure you take motion sickness pills if you’re going to the Southern Ocean to save the whales. And sometimes, Mr Right can be all wrong, and Mr Wrong just needs time to find the right path.

Funny, touching, emotional and political, Lingerie for Felons is Bridget Jones meets An Inconvenient Truth, about doing the right thing, finding the right person, and always thinking through your underwear choices.

Excerpt

Prologue

[Genesis of a felon] — Welmore Junior High; June, 1989

 If there’s one universal truth, it’s this: You’re always wearing your worst underwear when you land in trouble.

‘Heidi, I think I’m gonna be sick.’ I could taste the humidity, hot and metallic. It cuddled me, like an extra blanket you don’t quite need during the night, but can’t rouse yourself enough to shrug off. My tummy was turning queasy circles.

Heidi looked at me with that little frown of concentration. Clear blue eyes sparkled out of the whitest face you ever saw. ‘Don’t worry, Lolly. He’s not so bad.’

I’d told Heidi I was supposed to be Lola now that I’d turned 16, but right now I had bigger fish to fry. I poked my glasses back up my nose. ‘I… I’m worried. One, I’ve never —’

Heidi held up a small white hand. ‘Oh no, girlfriend. Not the numbers.’

I flapped my hand at her. ‘One: I’ve never been called up before. Two: you know I have a nervous stomach. And three…’ I could feel little hiccups rising in my throat as I forced it out. ‘Three,’ I lowered my voice, ‘I’m wearing My Little Pony.’

Heidi stopped the yapping duck gesture she’d been doing since I started my list and studied the region below my waist. ‘The ones with that pink horse head on the front?’

I sighed. ‘Pony head.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘That your Grandma gave you for your eighth birthday?’ She paused. ‘Girl, get your priorities straight. He’s not even gonna see your underwear.’ Her voice started to ramp up, spiralling higher with each sentence. ‘He’s gonna be screaming too hard to even see your face. Lola.’ She took me by the shoulders and gave me a little shake. ‘You spray-painted his god-damn ride.’

I squared my shoulders, shaking her off and pressing a balled fist into my stomach. ‘Well I can’t believe he said no. They wanted to use the gym one day. Just one day.’

It was Heidi’s turn to sigh. ‘Why’ve you always gotta do this?’

‘So you’re not with me?’

She scowled. ‘I’m always with you. It’s just… Can’t you get a new interest?’

‘Like what?’

Heidi waggled her brows. ‘Like that boy. Y’know. The one in your chess club.’

I snorted.

‘Oh, I’m sorry gir-rul,’ she drawled. ‘You busy with Mandela this weekend?’

I felt myself flush. I knew most of the other kids had posters of Jason Priestly or the Coreys (Haim and/or Feldman) on their walls. But hey, Mandela had earned his place. He had been my very first crush. And the longest running one, too. I shook my head to tune back in to my best-friend-since-forever.

‘Look, babe. I’m with you. I said it and I meant it. I’m with you. Damn, I was even with you through that whole tampon boycott thing last year. But…the head’s car?’

I felt that familiar prickle. ‘He shouldn’t have said that to those people.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Heidi nodded. ‘But what’s that got to do with the man’s dick?’

I sighed. She definitely had a point. ‘Racist pin-dick,’ I reminded her.

‘Racist pin-dick,’ she agreed.

I picked up her hand. ‘Heidi, don’t make me go in there as Pony Girl.’

Heidi sighed one of her special, eloquent, whole-body sighs.

And started digging in her gym bag.

 

Giveaway

In the novel, Lola is constantly caught in situations that require her to expose her underwear. So, to win a copy, we’re asking you to expose yours! Leave us a comment telling us what colour underwear you’re wearing today, and we’ll give a copy away to a random commenter. Good luck – and remember to always consider your underwear choices 🙂