#miss maria provides brain breaks and shows you how to do body checks to check in with your body

[mariatesstruther]

okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria

okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut

tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.

one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:

is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)

still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too

joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “😲😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that

later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.

today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.

tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)

tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”

and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”

luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”

“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”

“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”

but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”

“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”

“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”

“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”

“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”

“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”

“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.

it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”

“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony

[alexthepartyman]

When I’m Saved (Part 1)

AN: This story is a loose and dramatised version based on a true event that happened to me. I have changed names and situations for privacy reasons. This will be a Tumblr and Ao3 exclusive fic. I hope you all enjoy laughing at how much of an idiot I am for getting into this situation.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming in on such brief notice, and I apologise for calling you all in this late.��� Section Chief Mateo Cruz greets his tired team after the plane takes off. “You will notice, Dr Lewis is not here. She took a flight out to Peyton, Idaho to be the liaison for the La Byorteaux family. In the meantime, we have Dr Spencer Reid.” 

“What exactly is the situation?” Agent Prentiss asks. 

“Sixteen-year-old Dmitri La Byorteaux was reported missing from Disneyland at midnight, when the park closed. Park security and LAPD are still searching the park just in case he is still there. Dmitri was with his school group, the Peyton Panthers Marching Band and Colour Guard. The LAPD is taking copies of all of their records concerning Dmitri. The band directors are John Tremblay and Mark Wozniak, assistant leaders are Amy Tremblay, Jill Mellencamp, Nicholas Grace, Nicholas Vasquez, Lily Jones, and Arthur Wallace. There are parent chaperones, the one in charge of Dmitri is Ressa Kilburn,” the section chief explains.

“None of them know where he is or can get ahold of him?” Agent Jareau asks.

“No. These girls may know, though.” 

“Adelaide Parker, Tessa Anderson, Emily McClane, Imogen Wilkinson?” 

“His roommates. They were with him for every moment of the trip.” 

“Roommates? Why would they room a boy with four girls? That sounds very strange.” 

“Hello, crimefighters!” Ms Garcia cheerfully greets the team. “I’ve just been through Dmitri’s records that Mrs Mellencamp has provided. He didn’t have a seat buddy on the bus. He was in the back of the ‘orange’ bus, with Imogen and Emily in front of him. And Dmitri is on three medications, two anti-depressants and a thyroid hormone. He is also reportedly allergic to ibuprofen.” 

“Two anti-depressants?” 

“Yeah, fluoxetine and trazodone.” 

“Those two together can create an effect called serotonin syndrome, which is an excess in the hormone serotonin, which is known as the hormone that makes people happy. Symptoms can range from headaches and myoclonus to hyperthermia and a drastically increased heart rate,” Dr Reid says.

“Dmitri’s phone is most likely dead, because I can’t track it.” 

“Does he talk to anybody from the Los Angeles area?” 

“I spotted a few Los Angeles numbers in his contacts. One belongs to a Hussein College. Another is registered to a man named Diego Castro, and yet another is registered to a Jacob Freeman. I’m sending contact information to your mobiles.”

“Castro’s a forty-year-old drag queen. Has the physique to easily overpower Dmitri.”

“Freeman is six feet tall, twenty-one-years-old, also has the physique to overpower Dmitri easily. Do they know each other? Did either of them know Dmitri or each other before yesterday?”

“No. I don’t even think Diego and Jacob know each other now, but I...I just found a picture on Diego’s Instagram, it’s from yesterday, and both Dmitri and Tessa are in it. Diego’s the one hugging Dmitri, the other men are friends of his.” 

“That’s Tessa over there on the other side. And is Dmitri in a wheelchair?”

“Yeah, none of the band records mentioned a wheelchair or a mobility impairment, so let me just get ahold of Dmitri’s medical records…” Typing can be heard through the laptop. “Huh. There’s nothing for Dmitri. At all. Like, he doesn’t exist. I found a Rhys La Byorteaux, though, they have the same prescriptions, same hometown, same last name... same parents… the only thing different is that Rhys is a girl and Dmitri is a boy. They even have the same therapist.”

“Rhys and Dmitri sound like they’re the same person. When did Dmitri start existing?”

“Early 2017. That’s also when Rhys kind of started...not existing… yeah, they’re the same person, records from Dmitri’s clinic show Rhys is a legal name and that he is biologically female, but he is seeking treatment for gender dysphoria and uses the name Dmitri.”

“Oh... he’s transgender? Why weren’t we told of that?” Agent Jareau asks. “I feel like that would be important information to know.”

“I don’t know, but we’re still calling him Dmitri, right?”

“We should, to avoid confusion. How common is that last name?”

“Not very, sir, the only other people I’m finding in America with that last name are the acting brothers and Dmitri’s family... there is a birth certificate for a Luke La Byorteaux, born to Nathaniel La Byorteaux and a Maria Alvez, but I can’t find anything for Luke past 1989.” Agent Alvez looks to the laptop with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Did you just say Maria Alvez?” 

“Yeah, she also kind of went missing, too.” 

“Garcia. Focus on Dmitri.”

“Got it. Dmitri’s medical records look relatively normal until the age of three, then after that, it looks like he’s a frequent flyer in the medical field. He was born relatively healthy for being induced three weeks early, except for the part where his father, Nathaniel La Byorteaux, was removed from the delivery room for protesting when the doctor threw the baby at mother Eva Kelly’s chest, and also for refusing doctors access to newborn Dmitri, who was born anemic.” 

“What kind of father refuses treatment for his newborn child?” Agent Simmons asks. “What started happening when Dmitri turned three?”

“A lot of appointments with specialty doctors, peppered in with ER visits. They referred Dmitri out to an audiologist based on concerns of multiple ear infections and being deaf. They found out he wasn’t deaf by scanning his brain waves when the regular test didn’t work out, and he was developmentally delayed, put in preschool at three, the youngest in his class. He ate a penny, went to the ER to have it pumped out, that’s like the one relatively normal thing that happened to him. Eva Kelly and Nathaniel La Byorteaux voiced many concerns about Dmitri’s never-ending ear infections and the strep throat that he would get constantly, and the frequent nosebleeds that happened nearly daily. He was admitted to the ER many times, covered in bruises from head to toe, bleeding profusely, dangerously high fevers, and they rushed him from the hospital in Ontario, Oregon to Boise, Idaho. CPS was called over concerns of Nathaniel abusing Dmitri, but charges were dismissed once Eva explained that Nathaniel wouldn’t actually beat Dmitri if he didn’t wake up, that was just how Nathaniel woke him up.” 

“What? Nathaniel threatened to beat up Dmitri?”

“Yeah, I wish that was a joke. All of the tests came back that there were no platelets in Dmitri’s system. Anywhere. Zilch. He was given three bags of immunoglobulin and carefully monitored after that. Doctors determined that the only explanation could have been this rare disease called ITP, or-”

“Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura. The body mistakenly attacks and destroys platelets in the body, which are fragments of cells that help clot the blood when the body is wounded. It usually starts in children after a viral disease, and it usually resolves itself with no need for treatment.” 

“Yes, Good Doctor. Dmitri’s condition was closely monitored after that, and then shortly after his fifth birthday, he was diagnosed with autism by a specialist in Salt Lake City, Utah. He went to the MayoClinic in Phoenix, Arizona for a month to have a splenectomy, and then that August, he and his brother Roger Kelly were nearly killed in a single-car rollover, and more blood bags were needed, both sustained concussions. Dmitri was admitted to the ER again later that month after he reportedly fell from the shelves in his closet during the night, that’s a concussion, and then again after he tipped over one of those old-person motor scooters onto himself, but miraculously, all he had was road rash and a bunch of scratches.” 

“What? Where did he get a motorised scooter?”

“His dad apparently got it after breaking his knee on his stepson, Robert’s trick bike, when he collided with the garden gnome. Robert also split his chin open and had to get five stitches. Again, the garden gnome. No, I’m not making any of this up. Let’s see...no hospital activity until Dmitri got his tonsils removed at age nine, apparently that was the reason he got strep throat five times a year. He went through urgent care all the time for weird accidents, like one time, his face swelled up to the size of a grapefruit because of misusing acne wipes. He went through urgent care at fourteen for a concussion, was sent home, no further testing was done... and then two months later, he was admitted to the ER for a major concussion, tests showed no brain bleeding, he was sent home to recover from it, when to the ER three months ago because he had bled out during a panic attack...He didn’t go to the ER again until three weeks ago, and yeah.”

“How does he behave in school?”

“Uh...Dmitri is mayhem incarnate, constant behaviour issues. He’s noted to be moody, fidgety, stubborn. Quite closed off from his peers, distracted, impulsive. He does his work super fast and is noted to be quite intelligent but breaks the rules. He is known to be very messy, and he is regularly known to be very goofy, often covered in markers and other things.. He argues with teachers a lot, has his phone confiscated a lot, violates dress code a lot, has been involved in weird incidents, has a very filthy mouth, serves a lot of detention for being late, a lot.” 

“He’s a rule breaker. You think he left on purpose?”

“He doesn’t look like he can in that wheelchair. It looks like a park rental. Garcia, check into that wheelchair thing. And check Dmitri’s social media. His emails and text messages, too.” 

“On it. I’m going to update Tara.” The blonde woman ends the call, and the screen returns to a navy blue background. 

“I’m going to call LAPD, tell them Dmitri has less time than we thought,” Chief Cruz says, pulling out his cell phone and stepping towards another section of the plane. 

“How do you bleed out from a panic attack?” Agent Rossi asks. “Kid has got talents.”

“That entire family has talents. A garden gnome?”

“Less talk about the freak garden gnome accident, more trying to find Dmitri. He couldn’t have gotten far if he needed a wheelchair, so someone would have had to carry him out if he got far.” 

“We have to figure out why he was in the wheelchair.” 

“He had a concussion three weeks ago that went mostly untreated, he’s probably still showing symptoms, and he may have developed physical coordination issues rendering him temporarily unable to walk. He may also be extremely dizzy, or his limbs may be extremely weak,” Dr Reid explains. 

“Someone would have had to take him. We should track down Diego Castro and Jacob Freeman, see what they know.” 

“The girls would definitely know what happened to him. We have to talk to them. We should also talk to the chaperones that would know Dmitri the best, starting with John and Amy Tremblay.”

[infinitehouseofbooks]

RELEASE DAY BLITZ - Beautiful Corpse

  Welcome to Shannon Muir’s Infinite House of Books!

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS by Bewitching Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Beautiful Corpse

A Jubal Van Zandt Novel

Book Two

eden Hudson

Genre: Fantasy – Cyberpunk / Dystopian / Post-Apocalyptic

Publisher: Shadow Alley Press Inc     

Date of Publication: June 9, 2017

ASIN: B072M1HVRG

Number of pages: 167

Word Count: 52,000

Cover Artist: Katherine Kalymniou

Book Description:

The best thief in the history of the Revived Earth is back, and this time it’s personal.

A deadly plague is ravaging the world’s population and threatening to kill the only person Jubal Van Zandt cares about—himself. If he doesn’t find a cure soon, he’s dead.

The most promising lead is buried in the ruins of an ancient sunken city stalked by savage predators, cunning parasites, and the twisted souls of long-dead mages. It would take an army to get Jubal inside … or just one of the most renowned knights in Guild history. The one Jubal betrayed and left for dead eighteen months ago.

First Jubal has to convince her not to kill him. Then he has to convince her to help save him.

Amazon

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

I  motored the  Mangshan  between a  pair  of thorny  locust trees  that served  as  the end  posts  for the  fence  marking the southern  boundary  of the  Xiao  family’s ancestral  holdings.

Carina  thought she  could  avoid me  by  ignoring my  messages  and staying holed  up  out here  in  the middle  of  nowhere. Pretty ridiculous considering  how  well she  knew  me.

At  the end  of  the driveway,  the  trees pulled  back  to reveal a  traditional  wet-country house—long  and  low, enclosed  by  a weathered wooden  porch  complete with  steel  sliding-panel storm walls.  Today  the storm  walls  had been  thrown  open wide,  letting the  meager sunlight  shine  onto the  house’s  creamy parchglass  and wood  exterior walls.

I  parked the  ’Shan  at the  end  of an  ancient  stone walkway that  had  been buckled  by  the unpredictable  water  table, and hooked  my  helmet and  ventilator  over the  handlebars.  It  had taken  me almost  an  hour to  get  way  the  hell out  here  from Taern— and  that  was running  the  ’Shan wide  open,  without any  traffic.

Why  Carina would  want  to live  so  far out  in  the  soggies  that she could  smell  the  fishshit,  I couldn’t  fathom.

Fire  threw open  blast  doors all  through  my body.  Heat,  the most perfect  heat,  swirled in  my  veins, warming  me  inside out. There  was  even a  taste,  sweet and  spicy  and a  little  ashy, like ember  dust  mixed with  wrackrath  smoke.

My  eyes  flew  open and  I  sucked in  a  damp lungful  of  country air, trying  to  catch up  on  the  oxygen  I’d missed  while  I  was out.  I checked  my  wristpiece. The  attack  had only  lasted  a  few seconds.  Less  than a  minute,  definitely. The  PCM  fits were getting  more  frequent, but  they  weren’t getting  longer.  Yet. If Carina  had  been watching  me  out one  of  her  windows  or via  a security  feed, she  would  think I’d  just  been taking  in  the scenery.

I  headed up  the  walk, careful  not  to trip  over  the uneven stones,  and  stepped onto  the  porch. One  very  handsome devil  with sculpted  stubble, perfect  skin,  and dark,  piercing  eyes looked back  at  me from  the  reflection in  the  house’s parchglass  walls. I  admired his  striking  features as  I  knocked.

Not  that I  needed  to knock  with  the number  of  early warning systems  Carina  probably had  set  up around  her  house. But  I’m nothing  if not  polite.  Especially when  I  want something.

From  inside came  the  unmistakable sound  of  someone kicking something  heavy  across the  room.

“You  better pray  to  God I  never  make it  to  this door,  Van Zandt,”  Carina yelled  from  inside.

Paperinas  flitted around  my  stomach, and  a  crazy grin stretched  across  my face.  I  hadn’t felt  much  of anything  but  the PCM attacks  in  such a  long  time that  the  excitement was  making me  giddy.

“Are  you seriously  still  mad?” I’m  not  always great  with time,  but  it  felt like  centuries  had passed  since  I’d last  seen Carina.  I took  a  guess. “Soam  was  like…a year  ago?”

There  was another  crash  inside. Then  the  house’s door roared  open  on its  track  and I  was  staring down  the  business end of  Carina’s  well-worn knuckgun.  She  grabbed me  by  the jacket collar  and  slammed me  against  one of  the  porch’s thick  wooden columns,  then jammed  the  knuckgun up  under  my jaw.

“Eighteen  months,” she  said.  A muscle  in  her mahogany- colored  cheek  ticked. If  the  symmetrical muscle  under  her other cheek  hadn’t  been trapped  in  all that  shiny  pink scar  tissue,  it probably would’ve  tocked.

Our  time apart  had  not been  good  to Carina.  Since  the last time  I’d  seen her,  crow’s  feet had  etched  themselves into  the dark  skin at  the  outside corners  of  her green  eyes.  She’d been athletic  and  sleek before,  a  very successful  feline  predator.

Now  shadows stood  out  below her  high  cheekbones. Where  her  long sleeves rode  up,  I could  see  the veins  in  her wrists  and  thin straps of  muscle  in  her  forearms. The  past  eighteen months  had whittled  her curves  and  soft places  down  to hard  angles  and razorblades.  She looked  sharp.  Painfully so.

Apparently,  in spite  of  Soam’s  nationwide obesity  epidemic, good  eats were  not  a  part  of their  prison  system.

“It  took you  eighteen  months to  break  out of  a  prison pit?” I  squinted  at her  in  disbelief. “In  Soam?”

“My  femur was  shattered,”  she said.  “Two  of my  vertebra  had to be  replaced.”

“Pretty  convenient excuses,”  I  said.

Carina  thumbed the  knuckgun’s  switch from  SAFETY  to BURST, effectively  changing  its purpose  from  SCARE JUBAL  to  TURN JUBAL’S SKULL  INTO  A BRAIN  GEYSER.

I  tried to  jerk  away  from the  deadly  weapon—I love  myself and  I don’t  fucking  like anything  that  has the  potential  to kill that  self—but  Carina’s grip  on  my collar  just  tightened. She  had me  pinned to  the  column.

I  grunted. “You’re  awfully  strong for  a  stick figure.” “It  was  a miracle  I  wasn’t killed  on  impact.”

“Exactly,  so what  are  you yelling  at  me for?”  I  said. “It’s not  like  you didn’t  know  what you  were  getting into  ahead  of time, hiring  me.  You’re just  mad  that I  saw  through your manipulation  in  time to  save  my own  skin.”

Carina’s  dark eyebrows  twitched  together, and  her  head cocked a  fraction  of a  fraction.  “Manipulation?”

“Don’t  play dumb  with  me, Bloodslinger,  it  looks terrible on  you.”  I tried  again  to squirm  away  from the  knuckgun.  “Will you put  that  piece away  already?  We both  know  you’re not  going to  use it  on  me. It’s  served  its  purpose—I’m very  intimidated and  a  little  bit aroused.”

Carina  made a  disgusted  sound in  her  throat and  shoved  away from me,  lowering  the knuckgun  to  her side.  “What  are you  doing here,  Van Zandt?”

“What  kind of  stupid  question is  that?”  I straightened  my jacket.  “You know  why  I’m here.  You’ve  opened every  message  I sent you  since  you got  back  to Emden.”

“You  hacked my  wristpiece?!”

About the Author:

  I am invincible. I am a mutant. I have 3 hearts and was born with no eyes. I had eyes implanted later. I didn’t have hands, either, just stumps. When my eyes were implanted they asked if I would like hands as well and I said, “Yes, I’ll take those,” and pointed with my stump. But sometimes I’m a hellbender peeking out from under a rock. When it rains, I live in a music box.

  But I’m also a tattoo-addict, coffee-junkie, drummer, and aspiring skateboarder. Jesus actually is my homeboy.

  https://whitetrashcappuccino.com/

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8023393.eden_Hudson

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RELEASE DAY BLITZ – Beautiful Corpse was originally published on the Wordpress version of SHANNON MUIR'S INFINITE HOUSE OF BOOKS.