Hello friends. I’m writing this in Second Cup, seated in a comfortable chair staring at two cops ordering coffee. I can’t help but stare at their funny baggy pants…lol. I love it. Anyways, I’m here to say that I will be publishing my book DSHM this week or next week.
Until then, here are two small excerpts from different chapters.
Hope you like it.
~Don’t Stop Holding Me: Annabelle
Annabelle: Wow, what a great conversation. Goodbye.
Dean: He attacked me and my friends at Thompsons Park yesterday. Threatening to beat us up. He’s a joke with an attitude problem, thinks he’s hot shit. What an ego.
Annabelle: I’m going to block you!
Dean: Then do it already! Because I’m not going to stop until you see the light. Why are you with that guy??
Annabelle: Because I love him. Now stop bugging me!
Dean: He doesn’t deserve you, Anna.
Annabelle: Oh yeah? Then who deserves me, Dean? Who should I be with if not James?
Dean: You should be with me.
Annabelle: Well it’s a little too late for that. Focus on Raina. She really likes you.
Dean: I don’t care about her.
Annabelle: Well you should. Besides, you don’t even know me.
Dean: And that douchebag does?
Annabelle: He does actually.
Dean: He’s not a good person.
Annabelle: Well he’s the one I think about at night. He’s the one I want holding me all hours of the day. He’s the one I let…. fill in the blanks why don’t you.
I was an evil, dirty human.
Honestly a part of me knew I could handle what was coming my way, but that didn’t mean I would enjoy it. I’d take it like a vaccine shot to an arm, like a bandage about to be ripped off my skin, and like eating the cabbage soup my grandma liked to make every so often. I’d endure it, wince in pain… but I’d survive with my head held high with the off chance I might puke in distress later… like private time later.
Something like that….
Don’t Stop Holding Me
Becky straightened her posture and rubbed her hands together. “Donna Tallins you say, hmmm. Well, I wouldn’t put it past her to be an actual witch, with a dungeon in her basement, with all the fixings. One black caldron, one dirt covered floor with rat bones, and snakes – AKA, her family members – sniveling and lurking around.”
I nodded in agreement.
Oh yeah… we’re totally evil.
I smirked more. “And don’t forget about the raging fire pit of doom she got gifted from el Diablo himself. It burns giant, green, red, orange and yellow flames, destruction be damned. The world will know her pain.”
My grin was epic. But I wished Jenna were here to add on, because you know my best friend would have basked in pleasure over the hypothetical description of Donna’s Witch Dungeon of Doom.