|Jessica is fairly certain that Samwise's secret is that he's hopelessly in love with her.|
When thinking about a Middle-earth Spring Break, a few things instantly come to mind.
-Babes in bikinis (or, as I like to call them, bikini babes)
-Wild nights spent partying around the bonfire (because everyone looks better by the light of the fire; this guy knows what I'm talking 'bout)
-Brief yet passionate hook-ups
-And, of course, feral cats.
But lurking underneath all of this sexy Spring Breaking, there's a dark side. A dangerous side. A musty side. And a side that smells really bad.
I think it's fairly obvious what I'm getting at here.
(Or, more specifically, brandywine addiction in relation to Samwise Hobbit.)
Samwise started our story fresh-faced, a man ready to get his epic journey on.
But slowly, slowly, throughout giant spiders, semi-nude Wakefields and hobbit sacrifices, we've seen Samwise fall apart. Brandywine addiction, as some of us know, is not a kindly thing.
. . . Going
. . . going
. . . GONE.
And while there are many functioning alcoholics out there . . .
(thank you, filmgirl84 from photobucket!)
Samwise Hobbit is not one of them.
To experience Samwise's downward spiral from the beginning, you've got a lot of clicking to do:
Chapter One Chapter Seven
Chapter Two Chapter Eight
Chapter Three Chapter Nine
Chapter Four Chapter Ten
Chapter Five Chapter Eleven
Chapter Six Chapter Twelve
And my literary agent seems to think that I should remind all of you readers (yes, all six  of you, and yes, I count myself amongst that elite yet desperately welcoming group) that, while this is indeed Hobbit Heartache, the Sweet Valley High/Lord of the Rings erotic adventure parody, I have no prior knowledge of the Lord of the Rings world. No movies viewed, no books read, nothing. This is why Samwise's last name is "Hobbit." No need for helpful emails & diagrams/hate mail, my friendly LOTR fans.
I'm so psyched to finally be able to share Zak's beautiful artwork for this chapter. I think it might be my favorite of the whole book. Had I a fireplace, or even a strong heater, this would certainly be mounted above it.
Samwise Staggers On
“Ooof,” said Samwise, falling to the ground. “Whoever put that tree there?” He laughed and the sound echoed in his head. ‘Tis like I’m in a cave, he thought. “Hullo, hullo, hullo!” he cried.
“Up you go, Sam,” said Merry, lending him a hair-covered hand to his feet. “We must keep moving. The day has just begun.”
“Thank you, kind friend. Care for a refreshing sip of water?” Sam asked, proffering his goatskin canteen.
Merry’s face became droopy like a rain-soaked weeping willow and he shook his head. Sam caught the eye of Winston, who had been watching the scene unfold from the side.
“Winston? A gulp or two for you? It will ease your hiking woes!” said Sam with a grin as shaky as a hogtied octopus.
“Come on, Merry. We gotta keep walking before Gandalf gets mad,” Winston said, pulling Merry away. “And Sam,” he said quietly over his shoulder, “we all know that’s not water, buddy.”
Samwise stood still and clutched his beloved canteen. He belched and felt the customary hot surge of vomit rising in his throat. He gulped it back and groaned.
“Samwise?” said Elizabeth tentatively from behind. “Are you okay?”
“Quite fine. ‘Tis a healthy hobbit who vomits with frequency,” replied Sam, with the slightest touch of derision in his voice.
He knew very well that Elizabeth was a meddler. She was also a female, and Samwise did not place much trust in females. Not since the time that Vermillia snuck a secret herb into his porridge that caused him to remain erect for three years straight. Yes, ‘twas true that females made him feel rigid with nerves, indeed!