Stephanie Meyer—that sassy Mormon known by sweaty, suburban mouth-breathers all across American’s suburbs has checked herself into rehab for nymphomania. YES, THAT’S THE TICKET, FOLKS—SEX ADDICTION!
Anyone who’s read even three pages of that devil series, however, can attest to the fact that the woman is SEXUALLY. DISTURBED. Any person who describes getting all hot and bothered by a floor-length khaki skirt and button up denim is clearly harboring some ill sexual will.
Not to worry, though, to all of you whom insist upon tearing through the pages of Meyers’ empire of broody-yet-glittery vampire angst and homoerotic werewolf fight scenes like it was one of those fucking cereal boxes with the prizes at the bottom. Meyer, upon entering a private rehabilitation facility in Palos Verdes, did promise readers to stay tuned because—sex addiction or not—she is committed to continuing the epic romance that is Edmund and Beatrice (Edgar and Bailey? Eduardo and Betsy?). She has indeed promised that she “will sacrifice none of the hot-n-steamy scenes that make my literary heap of trash worth reading.”
Though Meyer did not disclose the nature of her certainly-kinky addiction (virginity fetishist, anyone?!), certainly Bels & Eddie’s relationship will beautifully embody and manifest all of the nasty, nasty fantasies Meyer will work out in rehab.
Stay tuned, tweens! And get ready to ruin a perfectly good tube sock.
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