I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the CURSE UNDONE by Brandie June Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Saturday 29 October 2022
Excerpt of Curse Undone by Brandie June
Wednesday 19 October 2022
Your Midweek Update for 19/10/22
The one thing I forgot to consider about this curfew is the power of Gen Z’s not giving a shit. Technically, the police have placed a curfew on all minors in the area but after about two weeks, kids have just stopped caring and going out anyways. It’s kind of hard to arrest all of us – or, more likely, the police just don’t actually care that much – which is a terrifying concept for everyone except for me. And now I can go outside after dark without being suspicious which is such a fucking relief. But also…
Do you ever
work so hard to get something and then once you get it, you have no idea what
to do with it? I’ve been trapped inside for two weeks, just waiting and waiting
to get out and now that it’s here, I don’t know where to start. So many people
to kill in so many ways, the choices are overwhelming.
I wish I
had more to report but I’ve just been doodling in my math notebook all the
different methods with which I want to kill people and I just can’t decide. Do
I want something bloody? Something subtle? Something quick or slow? A knife, a
rope, a screwdriver? Something conventional or unusual? I have this dream of
running someone over with a lawn mower but it’s autumn now so I might have to
put that dream on hold.
Maybe I should
go through mom’s old entries to find inspiration. Something’s gotta jump out at
me. She was an incredibly creative and prolific killer.
Or maybe I just
miss her and want to hear her voice.
Both, I
think.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 12 October 2022
Your Midweek Update for 10/12/22
Welp. The
curfew is still on because surprise, surprise, they still haven’t caught the Fraternity
Killer. Because that’s what they’re calling me this week – even though it makes
zero sense! The victim nor the location were a fraternity so why has the media
started attributing this kid’s death to college partying? Who knows. Maybe it
made a better story than underage drinking at a prominent lawyer’s house.
Oh yeah.
Learned that little tidbit after the fact. It wasn’t the lawyer’s son but their
kid hosted the party while they were out of town. Now suddenly the news has
shifted the narrative away from her house? I smell a coverup. That doesn’t
matter to me so much as this fucking curfew!
Everyone at
school is paranoid and angry. Teachers are less than understanding and parents
are less so. It’s like the whole student body is walking around in a haze with
nothing to do and nowhere to go. It’s harkening back to days we only JUST left
behind and everyone is miserable.
I don’t
really know what can be done, though. I can’t exactly turn myself in and with
the narrative being so muddled, I doubt the police are anywhere near pinning
the crime on someone. Maybe they’ll declare it cold soon. Just give up. I
generally pray for the police to be shit at their jobs and be defunded – for my
own reasons but also ACAB – but now more than ever, I just need them to leave
it alone so everyone can get back to their lives.
I don’t
feel guilty for causing this. Not a lot, anyways. So if it could just… go away?
That would be great, thanks.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 5 October 2022
Your Midweek Update for 10/05/22
I am big enough to admit that I might have fucked up on this one.
See, since
school started, everyone has been treating me weirdly. There’s been a lot of
looks and people get quiet when I walk in a room. Or they just straight up ask
me how I’m feeling since my mom died and that’s better but also worse. I’m sick
of it all and I just needed people to focus on something else for a bit.
So I killed
one of the Juniors.
There was a
party, I didn’t go but I knew it was happening so I went over there (I told
James where I was because you should always tell someone where you went, if only
to help find your body when you go missing). I snuck in through the back door
which wasn’t hard considering most every was blasted by the time I got there. 5
minutes later, I was sneaking out the way I came, having dumped his stabbed and
bled out body in a pile of passed out teens. He wouldn’t be discovered for
hours but when he finally was, all hell would break loose.
Unfortunately,
it broke a little too loose.
The school
made the announcement on Monday morning about the kid’s death and that, in
conjunction with the mayor and the local police, they would be issuing a curfew
to everyone under 18. Every after school activity was cancelled, there are
signs all over telling people to report any suspicion of a party. Nothing is
allowed to happen after 8pm.
James tells
me there are no clues about the murderer but they’re looking into his life to
see if he had any enemies or crazy ex’s – because obviously some obsessed lover
is the only one who can sneak into a party and stab a man to death. But
apparently he was seen fighting with someone. I completely missed that but it’s
a stroke of luck.
James also
says the curfew will be in place until the killer is caught or the investigation
is called off so it may be a while. Why did they have to pick this case to
finally start caring about children? It’s very inconvenient.
Sincerely,
Casey
Monday 3 October 2022
Excerpt of Fate Awakened by Jocelyn Montana
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the FATE AWAKENED by Jocelyn Montana Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Excerpt of The Willing by Lindsay Lees
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE WILLING by Lindsay Lees Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 28 September 2022
Your Midweek Update for 09/28/22
Apparently buses and bus shelters are still excellent places to murder people. They’re poorly lit, they’re poorly maintained, their poorly populated. The city really does not do a great job at promoting their public transit system. Really, I’m doing them a favour.
For every
minimum wage 20-something I gut with broken glass I found AT THE BUS SHELTER, the
city adds 20 more dollars to their infrastructure. Maybe one day they can afford
to carry the body away.
I really
shouldn’t be killing minimum wage workers, sooner or later we’re going to run
out of people to flip burgers. I’m the real reason bosses can’t find people to
work for them. No, but for real, capitalism has created an over-inflated
emphasis on productivity and profit at the expense of the worker. The real
people I should be killing are the millionaires and billionaires – and I think
we have a trillionaire now? Strangely, none of them take public transportation
and I had a murder boner I needed quenched now.
Sorry I
said boner.
But that’s
what it’s like – for me at least. I get these urges and my head turns into this
mantra of “kill, kill, kill.” I can quiet the mantra if I have a plan in place
but the only time it’s ever completely quiet in my head is the few seconds
where I’ve watched someone take their last breaths. Then, I’m so focused on the
task at hand that I forget about everything else and the whole world goes
silent. Then it’s just me and the body. But soon enough, the voices come back
and I feel the urge all over again.
Don’t get
me wrong, I love what I do. It is so fucking fun to slice a man’s throat and then
poke 100 holes into his body to see him bleed out like a sieve. But there’s
something about the quiet that I crave most.
So sometimes
I have to kill the underdog in order to satiate my hunger until I can get to
the CEO. There’s really nothing to be done. Well, the city could fix the bus
shelter but that’s never going to happen.
So I’m
going to keep on killing.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 21 September 2022
Your Midweek Update for 09/21/22
Last week I said I would talk about the cop and the deer so here’s the story.
Last week
(last Tuesday, actually, which is why I was falling asleep standing up all day
Wednesday) I was disposing of a body in the woods just south of town and as I
was digging, a deer walked right up to us. Just sauntered into my little patch
of dirt and stood there, staring at me. It was genuinely unnerving. Have you
ever had a staring contest with a deer? It’s like staring at a god. They know
more than you and yet they’re at peace with the world. So I was staring into
the abyss and the abyss was staring back when the deer bent down, eyes still
penetrating my soul, and bit into the body on the ground.
I swear to
god that’s what happened. This fucking dear – that I’m pretty sure was just
some minor deity – started eating the dead woman at my feet. I didn’t want to
startle the horror movie monster but I also had a vision of it not caring
whether their dinner was living or dead so I needed to get out of there. It
genuinely took me 20 minutes just to successfully step out of the small clearing.
As soon as I was out of visually range of the demon in the woods, me and my
shovel high-tailed it the fuck out of there.
No pun
intended.
Cause I
said “high-tailed” and deer have high…
Anyways
I finally
made it through the line of trees leading to the main road; I hadn’t even
stopped running when I came upon a police officer – probably doing something
shady but I didn’t really get a chance to ask. He asked why I had a shovel in
my hands and I was so frazzled by the local cyptid that I said the first thing
that came to mind: I was burying a dead body.
He laughed
because I’m adorable and innocent-looking but I was aware enough to know what a
fucking mess I’d be in if that cop lived to remember me. So I offered to show
him. I took him back through the woods to the spot where the woman’s body was still
being torn apart and before he could fully process what he was seeing, I hit
him on the back of the head with the shovel.
That didn’t
scare Bambi’s mother away which was the final straw that convinced me I was hallucinating
or I’d somehow died and this was my purgatory.
As I
suspected, it didn’t really care what it was eating, so long as it was satiated
and before I knew it, the police officer’s shoulder was being nibbled apart.
And then
his fucking radio went off, informing “Officer Brown” that he’d left his post
and would need to return there immediately.
You know
what I did?
I walked
away. In a few hours, they would go looking for Officer Brown and find whatever
was left of him and the other woman. Even if they do perform an autopsy on
their mangled flesh, it’s unlikely they’ll be able to put this bizarre story
together. As far as I’m concerned, that deer can eat all the evidence and then
waddle off to whatever cave it crawled from. I am never burying a body in that
woods again.
Whatever I
saw there, can fucking stay there.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 14 September 2022
Your Midweek Update for 09/14/22
I slept in
and I don’t have time to update or else I’ll be late for school.
Just… next
week, remind me to tell you about the cop and the deer.
I don’t
know how mom did this every week.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 7 September 2022
Your Midweek Update for 09/07/22
I think at some point in my career, I would like to kill someone over the phone. I don’t know exactly how that would work but I’d like to actively be talking to them when they’re murdered. Think about it: it’s the perfect alibi.
I mean, my
mom taught me that not needing an alibi at all is the best thing but if you do
require an alibi, make it impenetrable. What is more foolproof than literally
being on the phone with the victim – on the other side of the city – when they
bite it. Now I just have to figure out how to kill them.
As I’m
thinking about it, so much more would need to go into it. I would need to be acquainted
with the victim in some way, I’d need to know their schedule or be able to
perfectly control their movements when I can’t see them, I’d need some sort of
machinery that I could trigger remotely and then remove from the crime scene while
being an initial suspect because I reported the murder. Obviously I would be released
from suspicion when the phone company confirmed my whereabouts – thank god that
corporations track our every movement, right?
It's a lot.
It would be a colossal undertaking but it’s not like I’m doing anything else. I
mean, I’m entering my final year of school with all eyes on me because of the
loss of my mother but other than that, my schedule is totally open.
Am I going
to do this now?
Why wait, I
guess.
Okay, then.
Time to pick a victim.
The victim
in the basement died after a few days. I don’t remember if I mentioned that. So
that was fun while it lasted.
Sincerely,
Casey
Friday 2 September 2022
Excerpt of The Man or the Monster by Aamna Qureshi
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE MAN OR THE MONSTER by Aamna Qureshi Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 31 August 2022
Your Midweek Update for 08/31/22
How in the fuck is it already Wednesday. Time has been blurring together more than normal and it’s making me feel… anxious? Like, I’m losing hours and I’m not keeping track of the days and what if I’m missing something really important? What if I’m forgetting something that could change my life? The last few weeks have gone so quickly and I don’t really remember some of it and I’ve just been so tired lately.
My
immediate thought is that I’ve been sleep walking – sleep murdering if we’re
going to stay on brand – but James would have noticed something, right? He’s
been working crazy hours and picking up other’s shifts to make up the extra
income. Funerals are expensive. Didn’t know that before. I’m usually gone
before the body is discovered (or too young to be expected to worry about such
things) but now I know that the business of burying the dead is a lucrative one.
Maybe I
could get a degree in mortuary science. Then it wouldn’t seem odd if I smell
like death and end up covered in someone else’s fluids. That seems so cliched,
though. The undertaker who creates work for herself. The next step up (or
down?) would be taxidermy or something else involving formaldehyde but again, it
will just make it more obvious.
My initial
point is that James would have noticed if I’ve been leaving the house or
walking around so I don’t know what’s been causing the exhaustion and that’s
frustrating in and of itself.
I just want
to go to bed and sleep for a hundred years. We’ll see how this week goes.
Sincerely,
Casey
Saturday 27 August 2022
Excerpt of Favorite Daughters by Laurel Osterkamp
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the FAVORITE DAUGHTERS by Laurel Osterkamp Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 24 August 2022
Your Midweek Update for 08/24/22
School starts next week and I don’t know the type of person I want to be. It’ll be my last year of high school and I just realized that my mom isn’t alive to see me graduate so that’s a fun thought spinning around in my head today. But it’ll be my last year and then I won’t have to see any of these people again. I won’t have to wear a mask for 8 hours a day while I learn about things that are genuinely interesting with people who are generally not.
I like
learning – and not just because more knowledge affords me better ways to kill
people. The world is insane and overwhelming and, especially right now, it’s
terrifying. But when I learn something, I understand it, and when I understand
it, it’s not scary anymore. The more I learn about the world and people the
more in control I feel.
As much as
I’m really looking forward to no more 8am calculus with Mrs. Fletcher (who
tries way too hard to be relatable that it’s just cringey), I’m going to miss
having something to focus on. It seems like graduation is ages away but I have
a feeling this year is going to fly by.
On top of
my general teenage woes, I’m also going to have to spend the year getting
sympathetic looks from everyone. At least, if mom had died doing what she loved,
I could have made up a lie about her running off so I wouldn’t have to stomach
everyone’s “compassion”. Because she had to die like a pedestrian, I am going
to have to spend the next ten months dodging people’s not-so-subtle glances and
pretending to be heartbroken when most of the time, I’m just tired and angry.
Maybe that’s
what heartbreak feels like.
I’m going
to have to see the councilor. James assured social services that hey would be
taking me to see a therapist and then we went to see Bullet Train which was so
much better than therapy. I don’t want to talk about my feelings. I don’t want
to think about my feelings, I don’t want to feel my feelings. I wouldn’t even
know how without talking about the murder stuff and apparently murder is frowned
upon in civilized society.
I just want
to get to the part when I can start the next chapter of my life. Whatever that
is. I wish I had a vision of my life. Even just a glimpse of myself a year from
now would be preferable.
I’m tired
and I’m angry and I don’t understand why I don’t have the answers.
I kidnapped
someone on Sunday. I didn’t kill them – which is new for me. I have them
chained up in the basement. James had to help fix some of the soundproofing
that had come off the windows. They’re just down there, waiting for me. I make
sure they have food and water and I clean up after them a few times a day. It’s
like having a pet. Except I can kick this pet, and punch this pet, and strangle
this pet within an inch of its life. I can stab them and smother them and clean
their wounds when they get infected. I can make them bleed. And for a little
moment, I feel better knowing there is someone in the world who feels my pain.
I don’t
know how long I’m going to keep them. Maybe until I feel better? I think that could
take a while. In the meantime, I have this plaything that distracts me from all
the things I’m starting to dread.
It’s not
enough. But it’s enough for now.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 17 August 2022
Your Midweek Update for 08/17/22
It should come as no surprise to anyone that murder has been a comfort to me in the weeks since mom died. I’ve gone out hunting about three times a week. I don’t even necessarily have to kill them. I do. I’m really not into the catch and release. But my point is: it’s not about them.
The
victims.
Yes, I tend
to look for older white men because punching up is always preferable and
slightly confuses my karmic balance. I also don’t tend to stalk or get to know
my victims before I go in with a pen to their eyeball – that was so messy! I
don’t care who they are, just that I’m in the mood to kill and they’re very
killable.
I think,
for me, it’s a bit about control. Being able to determine someone’s death (the
what, where, when, why, and how of it all), it makes me feel calm. Like, everything
might be falling apart and I’m being sent to another foster home, that bitch at
school outs my friend, or the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mom dies in a
random car accident, but only I get to decide how and when the old lady at the
co-op will choke on the bleach I put in her tea.
No one else
gets to decide how their life ends but me.
I don’t
really know what to do with my life.
I’ve been
reading old entries and doing way too much math and it’s just made me feel…
lost. In a few months, I’ll be the same age as Sandra when she died. At my age,
Jason was in the process of escaping “the family curse”, and mom had committed
her first murder. I have more than a few kills under my belt but I don’t have
the support system she had, or the future Jason had, or the past Sandra had. I’m
graduating in June and I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do after that.
All I’ve
ever been focused on is death and I can’t exactly make a career out of it. I’m
not as closed-off to the idea of assassination as mom was. I would not mind
make a few thousand dollars to do something I already do. What’s that old
saying: do what you love and the money will follow.
Even if I
did go into the incredibly lucrative business of murder for hire, I still need
a cover job. I need skills and knowledge that help me blend in to society. And
despite all the shit I’ve been through, I feel like I know absolutely nothing
about how the world works. I can throw a kitchen knife and have it land in a
man’s jaw from 50 feet away. I know the exact blend of ethylene glycol and soda
that makes the poison undetectable.
Neither of
which I can put on my resume when applying for college. Not that I’m sure I
want to attend college. I just don’t know what I want to do. And why, the fuck,
do I have to figure it out now?
I’m
seventeen-fucking-years-old. Why do I have to have my entire life mapped out?
It’s not fair.
Nothing
that ever happens in fair.
That’s why there’s
people like me in the world. For every bad person and bad thing that happens,
someone else gets to smile. I just kind of wish I got some of that happiness,
too.
Sincerely,
Casey
Wednesday 10 August 2022
Your Midweek Update for 08/10/22
When I was in juvenile detention, I had one really good friend: Zainab. She was really loud and kind of pushy but she always looked out for me and he bonded over our love of Shawn Mendes. I never had to hide myself from her. She understood why I killed my foster father, and I understood why she robbed a supermarket afterhours using her shitty older brother’s manager keys. I found a kindred spirit in the most unlikely of places. A few months into my stay there, I wanted to do something nice for her. But it turned out to be one of the worst things I’ve ever done.
I gave
Zainab one of my shivs. And I taught her how to use it. I taught her how to
find the floating ribs and dig into the fleshy part, I taught her to never go
straight for the heart because you’re more likely to hit breastbone. I taught
her that cutting off their means to cry or flee was more important than surprising
them. I taught her how to defend herself and live her life.
Well one
day, a fight broke out in the yard and a guard got hurt.
I say “he
got hurt” but he actually tripped and scratched his cheek on the wall. But the
administration was out for blood and some people got brought in for questioning.
They took Zainab – even though she wasn’t anywhere near the fight – and while
they were questioning her, they searched her bunk and found her shiv.
She got
blamed for “attacking” a guard and sent her to a “proper” institution. She got
sent to a women’s prison down south even though she wasn’t legally an adult and
she didn’t do what they thought she did. But she was a threat and a problem
they didn’t want to deal with so they just threw her away. My only real friend
in that place.
I stabbed
that guard less than a year later and I made my escape. But I never saw Zainab
again.
And then
yesterday, I see her face on a wanted poster in the post office, saying she’d
escaped from holding and was wanted for the assault of three officers on top of
her original crime. I couldn’t believe it.
I didn’t
actually realize that people still put wanted posters up. I thought that only
happened in movies from the 50s. And before you ask: I was buying packing tape
for mom’s boxes – that’s why I (a Gen Z) was in a post office.
But there
was my friend posted up there for the world to see. It said she’d run about two
years ago but had recently been spotted in the area. I’m still just kind of
stuck on the idea that I could possibly see my friend again and I can’t stop
smiling. I screwed her over so badly when we were kids and I just want to make
it up to her. Even if she hates me or tries to kill me, I just want a chance to
apologize.
I could
really use a friend right now.
So Zainab,
I have no idea where you are but I really hope I find you first.
Sincerely,
Casey
Tuesday 9 August 2022
Excerpt of The Seven Hungers by Morgan Quaid
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE SEVEN HUNGERS by Morgan Quaid Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 3 August 2022
Your Midweek Update for 08/03/22
I was thinking about this today so I thought I would share it with y’all. I love killing men. Obviously, I love killing everyone but I especially love slaughtering middle-aged men. It’s something I don’t think my mom really understood. She was much more indiscriminate with her kills because it wasn’t about making a conscious effort, it was about the physical and emotional release that comes with wringing someone’s neck until their skin turns blue. I still really like that part but I do make some small effort to target men.
In addition
to the high you get from murder, there’s also a bit of a release that comes
from disrupting the power dynamic. The one advantage to being a female serial
killer is that people – especially men – disregard your presence. If they don’t
think of you as a threat, they will let their guard down. But despite some
people’s thinking: I am not committing murder 24/7. It’s actually only 3-4
hours a week. So the remaining 164 hours of my week are still spent being
disregarded and treated as lesser. And with laws being written and overturned
all the time (both here and abroad), it doesn’t look as though it’s going to
get any better.
When I feel
the urge to hunt for a victim, I actively seek out those who are in a position
of power or authority. It’s one small thing I can do to bring a little balance
to the world. Plus their shocked face is so much more satisfying.
I’m not
trying to make a political statement or anything but also… I am?
Everything
we do is a political statement, isn’t it? Just by existing, there are lawmakers
who would see us punished – I’m talking about women, not killers (though some
lawmakers are also against what I do on the side) – and everything from our
identity to our clothes and our jobs has been fought for and won. So yes, even casual
murder is a political statement and I want to treat it as such.
That doesn’t
mean I won’t stab a Karen in the neck with her own pruning sheers if she tells
me to turn my music down on the bus. But those are for my happiness and not the
betterment of our society – well, it’s a little of both.
The point
is: I want to be more deliberate in my choices because they don’t just affect
me. Whether or not I like it, I am out here representing all of womankind as a
female serial killer in a traditionally male position. The least I can do is
use my abilities to make the world a slightly better place.
By clipping
a CEO in the Achilles Heel with a scalpel I stole last time I was at the
hospital.
As always,
dear readers,
I’m still
looking for a catch phrase
Wednesday 27 July 2022
Your Midweek Update for 07/27/22
I have
smelled a lot of horrible things in my life. I laid with my parents have I murdered
them and they were not found right away. I once hid in an open grave to evade
the police. I helped my mom clean out her murder den after it hadn’t been aired
out since my kidnapping.
It turns
out that all of us forget she’d rented a storage unit in which to commit
murders because James got a call from the manager saying her autopayment
bounced and if we didn’t pay by the end of the month, they would be auctioning
off the items inside.
I don’t
think they would allow that episode of Storage Wars to air.
So he
renewed the rental agreement and changed it over to his name, and the two of us
grabbed every disinfectant known to man (and trust me, we know them all) to go
and clean out the murder den that’s been unoccupied for about six months.
The smell
brought me to tears. I haven’t puked since Sarah M. shit her pants when I
stabbed her in 8th grade and it landed on my bare foot.
It’s been three
days and I can still taste it. It’s like it’s burrowed into my skin. Everywhere
I go, it just lingers.
But we were
successful in disposing of all the materials and disinfecting the entire unit
so it only smelled like month-old compost. And we did dispose of everything.
James asked if I wanted to keep the place for hunts but it wouldn’t feel right.
That was mom’s sanctuary so I’ll find my own. But we are putting her things in
there – maybe in the spring after winter has frozen and killed all the bacteria
– so it can remain her sanctuary.
It just
smelled so bad.
It was one
of those things that fell away when she and James split. She was so heartbroken
she forgot about everything else. I was angry at him for hurting her – I still
am – but he’s angry at himself, too. That doesn’t make it better but at least
he knows that he fucked up. I know some of you think I should kill him and for
a while I wanted to but now I don’t. He’s all I have left.
I did ask
him why he did it. Why he blew up our family out of the blue.
He told me
that he was a weak man. That he loved my mom beyond reason. But temptations
from others were unending.
I’ve been
reading through Mom’s blog a lot, trying to get to know her. I see how she saw
all of us. She loved James. She thought of him as so loyal but the truth is: he
was just waiting for the next best thing and it finally came. I always thought
they were meant to be. I’ve heard their love story so many times and I thought
it was fate that led them together. But maybe I was wrong.
The small
comfort I have is that James always realized (too late) that he was also wrong:
nothing would be better than her.
It does
make me wonder. She saw the world in such a specific way. What other people in
her life were not who she thought they were?
I feel like
I need to find a new sign off. Any suggestions?
In the
meantime, dear readers,
Stay Safe
Monday 25 July 2022
Author Nathan C. Gooden Reveals The Comics That Shaped His Childhood
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE RUSH by Si Spurrier & Nathan C. Gooden Blog
Tour hosted by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
The Night Queen Author Denise Daye Talks Favourite Movies
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the THE NIGHT QUEEN by Denise Daye Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 20 July 2022
Your Midweek Update for 07/20/22
My mom is dead.
There’s no
sense in beating around the bush.
On June 24th,
she was in a car accident and died of a brain hemorrhage on the way to the
hospital. The other driver was killed on impact. I think she would have liked
that.
It was such
an ordinary death, though – that’s the part she would have really hated.
I always
thought my mom was immortal. All the stories she and James told, all the things
I’ve seen her do.
You know, I
once watched her approach this insanely tall man at a hotel conference centre.
She used a chair to jump onto his back and then stabbed him in the eye with one
of those fancy two-pronged forks. The man screamed and flailed but she held on
and at one point, he ran into a wall and she used the momentum to throw his
head against it. I could hear the crack of his skull from across the room. And
as his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, she hopped off and landed on both
feet like it was nothing.
She was the
coolest person I’ve ever met.
I knew that
she would die one day (hopefully in a senior’s centre where she smothers the
patients and cuts their IVs and no one really notices because they’re so old).
But for a woman like her, it should have been an extraordinary death. Chasing a
victim who fights back and manages to stab her in the leg and as she’s bleeding
out from her femoral artery, she throws the knife previously imbedded in her
thigh and it hits them in the back of the neck, severing their spinal cord. And
as she collapses to the ground, she uses her body weight to smother her victim
because she may be dying, but she will never let them live.
That’s the
kind of death that my mother deserved. Instead, it was just some random
accident. I asked the investigator and he showed me all the evidence they have
that it was faulty wiring in the traffic light that made the intersection show
two green lights. There’s no one to blame, no revenge to get. I don’t know what
to do with myself.
The police
called James to inform him that his wife had died and now I’m living with him
back at our old place. It’s so weird to call him James but I know she used fake
names for everyone so I’m going to stick with it. My name’s not really Casey. I
wonder why she chose it.
I thought James
might be living with someone else but the house is exactly as we left it. All
of her stuff was in the drawers and on the walls and no trace of anyone else. There
was even a carton of her favourite creamer in the fridge – the kind I know only
she drank – like he was always waiting for her to come back.
Like he
thought they would get a second chance.
I told Ben
before I left. He came by the motel looking for her and when I told him, he
looked so sad. I think he really liked her. Don’t tell him, but I was going to
kill him if they lasted longer than six months. She couldn’t see it, but Mom
and James were supposed to be together forever and that couldn’t happen with somebody
like Ben around. He was nice and he gave me a book on ancient weapons that he
stole from the library but he wasn’t what this family needed.
Now it’s
just me and James and we’ll never know if our family could get back together.
We’ll never
know.
Never.
She’s
really gone.
That woman
walked through fire for me. She was the best mother I ever had. The only one I
never wanted to kill.
I loved
her. So much.
I was
cleaning out her laptop in case the feds ever raided and I found this hidden
program and this blog. I asked James and he said that this place was her
constant companion. He never read it but she told this little corner of the
world all her secrets. I’ve only looked through a few years’ worth but there’s
already so much that I didn’t know.
I never
knew Jason killed Andrew – that was a shocker – or how much she cared for
Charlotte before it all went to hell. And the thing with the motorcycle gang?
Oh my god. It’s like my mom had a whole other life before me.
I mean, I
knew that logically but to actually see it? I thought I knew everything about
her but I only knew a slice of the amazing person she was. Honestly, I think
you all knew her better than anyone.
It might be
dangerous to keep you around now that she’s gone but I don’t want to let you
go. If I have any technical trouble, I can always call Aunt Meg – if I can find
her emergency number.
I don’t
think she knows yet. Someone has to tell her.
In the
meantime, I’m going to keep updating this blog. I don’t know if it’ll be as
good as hers but I feel like I need a project and a way to feel close to her so
why not kill two birds with one stone: my specialty.
I think she
would have liked that joke.
My
condolences, dear readers.
And,
please,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 22 June 2022
Your Midweek Update for 06/22/22
Things with Ben are definitely what I’d called “honeymoon”. When we’re not fucking, we’re killing – and I’d definitely call it a rampage. Every night these past few weeks, we’ve been going out dancing, or hunting, or scoping out a potential victim. Most nights, I’m not walking in the door until after midnight. I’m exhausted in the best way. His stamina is incredible. Even in my 30s, I couldn’t butcher two men in one night. The strength it takes. Especially since he says he’s not prone to violent murders. He prefers poisons and strangulation – and when I tell I’ve been fantasizing about those forearms ever since… - things that are cleaner and not automatically attributed to large men like him. But for me, he wrapped those short, meaty, fingers around a cleaver and disposed to two business men right in front of me. There is little I haven’t done already when it comes to murder but it felt so good to have an arm wrapped around my waist while I pierced a woman’s eyeball with her own stiletto heel. I can’t even say I’ve missed it because I’ve never had it in the first place. It’s been just over a week since I found out about Ben and already, I know I’m becoming addicted to his touch. How could I not? All any of us have ever wanted is a partner; someone who understands and supports every aspect of our lives. And to meet someone so intimately familiar with my desires and needs (and are able to meet them) is so rare. And I’ve been lonely. I’m not sure if you noticed that from my weeks of pining and wailing but this year has sucked. I’ve had to relearn so many things. I’ve had to start over but this time, I’ve had to do it alone. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands. Casey is still learning. And she’s my daughter, we will never be equals. But Ben? He is a whole god damn person who makes me feel seen. I am so glad I didn’t kill him. I know this is the honeymoon phase and something will inevitably throw a wrench in my plans for a happy life, but can I just enjoy it while it lasts? For however long it lasts? Don’t I deserve to be happy?
As always, dear
readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 15 June 2022
Your Midweek Update for 15/06/22
I’ve been looking for a partner in all things for so long that I don’t think I ever wondered what would happen if I found someone who fit the bill.
You all
remember Ben. The boy toy who gives good head? Well the funniest thing happened
last Friday. I was on my way home from work and feeling horny so I decided to
stop by Benny Boy’s work at the library – because yes, I am fucking a sexy
librarian – but his coworkers said he had just started his break. I went around
to the staff parking lot, hoping to catch a quicky before he was back on the
clock and I saw him walking around the corner so, naturally, I followed him.
And I kept
following him and I kept following him. Suddenly we were on the other side of
the train tracks in a poorly monitored area of the city – something I clocked
very early on in my stay here. My first thought is that he had some sort of
drug problem which is technically none of my business but it might cause some
tension.
But I was
proven wrong when he walked up to a man on his smoke break, spoke to him for
about 30 seconds, shook his hand, and then walked away. The man suddenly began to
have trouble breathing, he then collapsed to the ground as though he had no
control of his limbs and shortly after, he died. I’m amazed I didn’t clock it
sooner because it’s a method I used to use all the time – although it’s
definitely become less popular in the post-pandemic world.
There’s a
vein in your left palm that people used to say connects your ring finger to
your heart. Science says that’s not true but there are some lovely veins that
do travel through your wrist and make their way back to your heart with few
detours (Casey says it’s the cephalic vein which made me laugh for 20 minutes).
With a little prick, you can send poison almost directly to their heart.
I had to
keep following him after that. I just had to know. But obviously I wasn’t
as sneaky as I thought because I suddenly found myself dragged into a mall
entrance and shoved against a wall.
I have
never seen Ben looking so feral. So dangerous. So. Fucking. Hot.
I asked him
where he got his hands on botulism and that seemed to stun him to his senses. We
went for coffee, sat in the park, and we talked. For hours. He told me about
how he started poisoning residents in his grandmother’s nursing him when he was
a teenager. To him, what he was doing was a mercy and the more he looked at the
world, the more he realized more than just the elderly were in need of “mercy”.
He’s been killing people ever since. Not as many and not as often but he enjoys
it. I could see it in his eyes as he talked about the woman last year who bled
from her eyes. He was so passionate as he talked about his victims. I told him
about my own career, or at least the highlights. Something to let him know that
he can trust me because we’re the same. After a while we walked back to the
library – and yes, he just skipped the last half of his shift but he hasn’t
been reprimanded yet so I think his coworkers think he was just getting laid
for 4 hours.
He did but
much later (and not for 4 hours, jesus christ).
On the way
to our vehicles, I demonstrated my own passion for the craft by stabbing a barista
in the femoral artery. The way he looked at me… only James has ever looked at
me with such desire. And admiration. I have never felt so seen.
We have a
date tonight. We’re going down to the river to find a late-night jogger and
kill them. Together. I haven’t had that before. A partner. Someone who
understands how it feels and why I love it so much.
I know how
incredible it is that we’ve found each other. There are about 4000 active
serial killers in the world and of the 7 billion people walking around, the
odds of two killers finding each other is… astronomically low.
Feels a
little bit like fate.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 8 June 2022
Your Midweek Update for 06/08/22
Tell me why there is a Karen in every town who thinks of herself as an amateur detective but really they're just a nosy little bitch who doesn't understand the concept of boundaries.
I caught a neighbour at the motel digging through the trash which in and of itself isn't suspicious but then she looked at me and her eyes lit up. Over the next few days, I kept seeing her everywhere - even away from the motel, The woman was the worst stalker ever. And I've encountered a lot of stalkers in my time.
Why am I bragging about the amount of people that have caught on to my lifestyle?
This latest woman clearly has too much time on her hands and not enough brain cells to realize that she's in danger. I turned and caught her eye across the street and she fucking waved. She doesn't realize - or maybe she doesn't care - how easy it would be to turn the tables. To lose her in a back alley and corner her like the prey she is. Gut her from her belly button to her goose neck.
I'm not even particularly worried about her finding anything in my trash - honestly, does she think I'm that new? She just pisses me off. The audacity of this woman is just staggering. She has to die.
And it's the same everywhere I go. Every town has someone who's watched too many crime dramas and thinks they can solve a crime all on their own.
Fucking Nancy Drew building false expectations.
No one is that lucky and no one's care stays in that nice condition. And what the hell is strawberry blonde? Those are two different colours!
Anyways, if Karen bothers me one more time, I will be fileting her alive. I have no more patience for people who consider my life entertaining. Aside from you, dear readers, because I'm offering this information to you willingly. You're not peering through my window at 7am trying to catch me in the act. Or if you are, you should know better. Fans don't live long. I sincerely hope it's not one of you. My Reader Views are low enough as it is since Jason left. Literally murdering my own fan base seems like overkill - and I would know.
Too on the nose? I claim to be a prolific serial killer, not an epic writer. In any case, Karen will likely die later this week so if she is a reader... sorry?
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 1 June 2022
Your Midweek Update for 06/01/22
When you love so deeply and you can't imagine doing anything else for the rest of your life. The great love affair. The thing I am most passionate about. I want to share it with everyone. Talk about it constantly. Think about it even more. Live and breathe it, embody it because even at its worst it is still better than being without it. I can't even imagine being without it. I couldn't breathe. It's impossible to do anything else because all roads lead back home. And it is home. Comforting, familiar, safe and yet exciting because being with the thing I love the most is the most exciting thing in the world. I never wondered if another could take its place. The prospect of leaving completely brings me to my knees but stepping back isn't so terrifying. Allowing room in my heart for something else - not replacing just sharing - is something I could absolutely explore. With less absolutism than my wording implies. But I would be willing to change, I suppose, for the right thing. Nothing has ever come close to comparing so it's never been an issue. But I have this fear in my heart that one day I will have to decide if I can make room in my fearful heart for something else. And will it be by choice or by force? Will I be allowed to walk away, or take a step back at my own pace? Will that be easier or harder than being forced apart by fate? At least then I can look back and have someone to blame. It might ease the burden of regret to have someone to blame. Besides, a great love like this could not fathomably end by anything other than farce. Even if it causes me pain and sorrow, I would choose it every time. Love outweighs all others. So I suppose, for all my concessions, I couldn't give up even a fraction of heart to another. It is all or nothing. Until the day I die.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 25 May 2022
Your Midweek Update for 05/25/22
When I cut off all ties with my husband and left in the middle of the night, I did not expect to miss him so much. I’m typing this while another man sleeps in my bed – Ben, I know, but he gives good orgasms – and yet, all I can think about his James.
That’s not
even what I was going to talk to you about this week. I was going to talk about
the cashier who was found absolutely butchered in the back alley of a local
convenience store. I mean someone had hacked away at his stomach until his
ribcage was bare and his floating ribs were missing because someone accidentally
nicked them with the knife and had to put them through the incinerator.
Next time,
give me correct change and don’t argue with me when I politely ask you to double
check your work.
But I’m not
even in the mood to tell you about that because after I murdered the cashier, I
called Ben, we had slightly exhausted sex, and as I lay awake after begrudgingly
letting him sleep over, all I could think about was the dumpster in the alley.
I had
initially wanted to throw the cashier’s body in the dumpster. Even if his body
was discovered before trash collection took him away, he wouldn’t have been
discovered the next day and identification wouldn’t have been so simple. I
tried to drag him in by myself but his organs were splashing all over the place
and I was just making a mess so I left him sitting against the dumpster. I am a
strong woman but dead bodies are heavy – especially when they’ve been opened in
the middle. It’s like trying to carry a full casserole dish with wax paper.
A kill like
that would have been a lot easier with a partner. Sure, I could have called
Casey but I realize that she’s only got a few more months of school before she’s
potentially off on her own. It would only been one more month of school but
between the kidnapping and the separation, she has a few grades to make up
before she can graduate.
I’m very
cognizant of the fact that this is around the age where I lose my children. And
if, for whatever reason, she does leave, I will be well and truly alone. My
parents are gone, my sister is in the wind, my husband has broken my heart and
I will be alone.
I don’t
know specifically what it was about this particular kill – beyond having to
admit that I can’t deadlift a bowl of unset Jell-O over my shoulder – but it
the loneliness struck me in a way it hasn’t for a while.
I miss my
partner. I miss having a partner. Someone who has my back when I’m out doing
the one thing that brings me joy. James was my partner in everything and I don’t
know when or if I’ll ever find that with someone else.
Maybe I’ll
ask Ben how he feels about carrying overcooked spaghetti and meatballs in a dollar
store paper plate.
As always,
dear readers,
Tuesday 24 May 2022
Author Roma Cordon Reveals Her Top 5 Books
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the BEWITCHING A HIGHLANDER by Roma
Cordon Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 18 May 2022
Your Midweek Update for 05/18/22
When I was seventeen, I murdered a man – a boy, really. I took a football cleat and I thrust it into the back of his head. I did it because I wanted to and for no other reason. Someone was always going to be my first; why not him?
The next
day at school, I feigned shock and sorrow when they gathered us outside to
announce to the student population that one of our own had been taken. It was a
murder too brutal for any of his peers to be considered a subject so the police
turned their attention upwards.
A few weeks
after the boy’s death, they arrested the gym teacher, Mr. S. Apparently, Mr. S.
had been sleeping with one of his students and it was no large leap to assume
that he’d committed murder to keep his secrets hidden. I allowed Mr. S. to go
to prison for my crimes because he was already a bad man and I wanted to
continue killing.
Years
later, I ran into someone I went to school with – whom time remembers as
friends but I doubt we had spoken a word to one another. I learned from them
that shortly after his imprisonment, Mr. S. committed suicide upon learning
that the girl he’d raped was pregnant. That girl later gave birth to a baby boy
whom she gave up for adoption.
When I was thirty,
I ran into a young boy who looked familiar in a way I couldn’t place. Or
rather, he ran into me. Stained one of my favourite skirts and honestly, if he
were ten years older, I likely would have killed him for that. But I didn’t
because even I have my lines I will never cross. But he was sweet and he
apologized so how could I resist letting him live? His parents, on the other
hand, are a couple I deeply regret letting seeing the sunrise.
They were
rude and spoke in harsh words but any attempt at logic was met with force. We
were in too public a place, I couldn’t kill them, but I wanted to. I imagined slicing
their sternum open and peeling their skin like a banana until all their organs
fell out.
I followed
them for a few days before I followed them all the way to the airport and I
lost my chance.
Sometimes I
would wonder what happened to that little boy.
I was
thinking about those two stories this week. In all likelihood, they have
nothing to do with each other but there’s just the slightest chance that fate keeps
people together – keeps bringing them back into your circle even when you don’t
realize it.
Casey was
essentially a gift from my husband but she is one of the best things to ever
happen to me. And on top of that, she brought me closer to my sister and some
closure with my mother. I never knew how much I was missing her until I met
her.
Casey has a
brother. A half-brother, actually. They share a mother. He had left home before
she murdered their parents and had fleeting contact with him before that. She
saw him on the local news the other day. He was running a centre for at-risk
youth and was promoting his facility. At her insistence, we went to find him so
she could see if her big brother was really all right.
I should
blame her for keeping family secrets but I understand. Some stories are too
painful to mention.
He was over
the moon to find out his sister was alive. He’d heard of the death of their
parents but hadn’t bothered to attend the funeral for reasons he didn’t have to
mention. The two of them reconnected and while Casey has been omitting a lot of
the details, she seems lighter. Talking with her big brother, even if she can’t
be completely honest, has brought back an airiness to her walk.
I can’t
believe she’s seventeen, nearly eighteen, now. The same age I was when first
started. Her brother – Jonah – is about ten years older than her.
It’s
perfectly reasonable to assume that the three stories are a coincidence. The
child born in the scandal of my first kill. The young boy deserving of a better
life. The young man in front of me trying to change the world he grew up in.
They’re three completely different people.
But I can’t
help but wonder.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Friday 6 May 2022
Excerpt of Dublin Ink by Sienna Blake
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the DUBLIN INK by Sienna Blake Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Monday 2 May 2022
Author Natasha Alterici Picks Favourites
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the HEATHEN by Natasha Alterici & Ashley A. Woods Blog Tour hosted
by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 27 April 2022
Your Midweek Update for 04/27/22
Is time blindness a symptom of COVID? I woke up yesterday and was absolutely certain that it was Saturday. I realized in time for work but then I was absolutely certain, again, that it was Thursday. If you would have told me it was Tuesday, I would have fought you on it.
I don’t
understand how the mind works and why it occasionally decides to stop working.
It’s not as though anything unusual has happene
…
I realized
as I was typing just how wrong that statement was going to be. Again, I know
something is wrong because I forgot that stress can affect sleep and lack of
sleep causes memory loss.
See, I know
science things. Usually only science things that pertain to murder but also
non-murder science things.
I know why
I’ve been tired and erratic lately – and you all do, too. I’m just a little tired
of being…tired. What I wouldn’t give to be able to go back in time to the way
it was before I knew the truth.
Not even to
before the love of my life fell in love with someone else. I think if I could
live in blissful ignorance forever, I would. It’s incredibly selfish of me to
ask him to fide his feelings but I would make that request over and over again
if it meant I could think about it without throwing someone off a ledge with
tears in my eyes. I wouldn’t be forgetting the days if my life hadn’t been
completely upended.
I know you’ve
heard me bitch about all this before but you may be surprised to learn this
heartbreak doesn’t go away over night. I was certainly shocked. Most of my break
ups ended in murder. How was I to know?
Casey, for
the most part, is enjoying this new town – this anonymity. She still so young
and excited about murder. She’s building her own routines, making her own
mistakes and cleaning them up herself. For the most part. I did have to flush a
toe down a Starbucks toilet but all’s well that ends well. She’s coming into
her own and I’m so proud of her. I just feel like I’m not at 100% so how can I
enjoy it?
I want to
be happy for her – I am happy for her – but I just don’t… feel it.
What am I
supposed to do?
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 20 April 2022
Your Midweek Update for 04/20/22
I’m perpetually amazed at the lengths of my own patience. Or, rather, I’m amazed at how much bullshit I’ll put up with before I finally rid the world of another idiot.
You would
think I had learned my lesson about killing people I’m even remotely connected
to – especially in the workplace – but some people are too dumb to live, even
if their office is two away from mine. I know committing murder when I’m still
in my three-month probation period is not the best idea I’ve ever had but
neither is calling Ben at 1am and having sex in the back of his truck. We’re
making all sorts of bad decisions this week.
I still
haven’t murdered Ben, in case any of you were wondering whether or not I’ve
become emotionally attached to my new pet. It would have been so easy to kill
him a thousand times. When I was riding his cock, I could have slit his throat;
but then I got distracted thinking about whether continuing to fuck him while
he was bleeding out would be considered necrophilia.
We’re not
going to talk about the orgasm I had while thinking about necrophilia. I don’t
think we’re quite there yet in our relationship.
Although
congratulations, dear readers, you are officially the longest and healthiest
relationship I’ve ever been in.
Back to the
idiot at work I probably shouldn’t have killed.
The work I’m
doing is very simple and barely requires the necessity to come into work but the
company insists on it. It’s mostly calling people and coordinating donations
and then filing those sponsors in the system. Not exactly a skill-heavy
position – which was good for me because skill-less positions tend to not look
as closing at people’s fake IDs – and yet some people still manage to screw it
up.
This
working for the company for years and yet she managed to lose thousands of
dollars without any repercussions. She hasn’t been stealing it, mind you, a
little thievery I can forgive, she genuinely screwed up so much data entry that
she lost track of over $5600 that is just floating around the internet somewhere.
Being an
inherently good person, I went to talk to her first, but it quickly became
clear that she had no idea what I was talking about. And that is when I realized
that skill-less jobs should still include the ability to count to ten without
using your toes.
She had to
go.
I reported
her error to her supervisor and when he called her in for a meeting, I followed
her home, suffocated her with a plastic bag, packed as many of her belongings
as I could fit into her car, and drove both of them out of town. She is
currently wanted for fraud and they will likely never find her body at the
bottom of the river in the next town over.
It was a clean
enough kill; I’m just having flashbacks of all the times I’ve killed a coworker
and it’s gone horribly wrong. Especially since I had to involve myself further
in order to make the cover story work. But I mean, who would report someone for
fraud and THEN kill them? It makes no sense.
At least I’m
hoping that’s what the detective thinks – especially since her case is being
treated as a person of interest rather than a homicide.
Like I
said, not a lot of amazing decisions being made this week but we’re persevering.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Wednesday 13 April 2022
Your Midweek Update for 04/13/22
I didn’t go to my mother's funeral. Instead, I went to work like I always do, and I decapitated a cyclist on my way home. Well actually, his head didn’t come all the way off. A lot of the surrounding muscle and tissue tore but it didn’t quite sever the spine. So he was flopping about kind of like a bobblehead doll until their heart stopped beating. It all took way too long. This is what I get for using cheap garroting wire. I forgot my own when I took off with Casey so I’ve adapted one out of piano wire but it just doesn’t work as well. It’s not that I’ve gotten weaker, it’s that I have insufficient tools.
If one of
you makes a comment about “a shoddy craftsman”, I will find where you live and
I will use my insufficient tool very slowly.
Is that
scary or dirty?
Regardless,
the day the world said goodbye to my mother, I tried to keep it as normal as
possible and only briefly stumbled. Of course it couldn’t be perfect, that
would be asking too much. But it was fine. It was normal. Frankly, I don’t have
the energy for more than “normal” lately. If anything remotely exciting happens,
I may snap.
I’m just
tired, dear readers. I don’t think I realized how tired I am until I sat down
to write. I feel like I’m slowly unravelling, leaking out at the edges but not
enough to be noticed until its too late. I suppose that’s exactly what’s
happening.
Everything
is coming apart and I don’t know what to do about it.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Tuesday 12 April 2022
Author Jo Denning Picks Top 5 Scenes from Dead Blood City
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the DEAD BLOOD CITY by Jo Denning Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway! Link in bio.
Monday 11 April 2022
Matthew Erman Discusses the Inspiration for Witchblood
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the WITCHBLOOD by Matthew Erman & Lisa Sterle Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
Wednesday 6 April 2022
Your Midweek Update for 04/06/22
The things
I have done to avoid writing this Update, dear readers. I worked overtime, I
stayed out late and went on a killing spree – I’m now wanted in three counties
even if they don’t know it’s me – I took Casey out for a girls’ weekend, spent
way more money than I meant to, drank about as much as I meant to.
It was like
I knew the end was coming and I was trying to fill as much of my time as
possible with the things I love. I garroted a man on a subway platform, stole
his coffee and walked onto the approaching train like nothing had happened. I’ve
never felt sexier or more powerful in my entire life. And I could do that
because I’d done my research and cased the platform over the last few weeks,
found the blind spots, found the regulars who would be noticed if they went
missing. I picked a business man who clearly wasn’t used to taking the train to
work. His shoes were definitely not made for public transportation. He was so
quite when he died. I almost wasn’t sure he’d completely succumbed but there’s
no mistaking the weight of a dead man in your arms.
Normally, I
wouldn’t have put so much work into the premeditation unless it was a special
project but without James to have my back, I need to be careful. I’ve grown so complacent
that in his absence, I’ve had to rebuild the muscle – the instinct – to protect
only myself. And Casey. But she’s more self-sufficient that James and the kids
so I rarely worry about her these days. Maybe I should worry about her more.
Or maybe I
shouldn’t be a mother. I never wanted to give birth and I am so grateful that
is no longer something I need to worry about. But the children who came into my
care were no less my children. I’ve said as much a thousand times. The closest
people in your life don’t have to be related by blood – in my case, hardly any
of them are. At this point, I think it’s just my sister whom I haven’t heard
from in months, I don’t even know if she’s alive or if she’s safe. I probably
would have heard on the news if she’d been arrested again but other than that,
I don’t know how or where she is. I don’t know how I’m going to get word to
her.
Mother is
dead.
James
called because even if I didn’t tell him where I went, he always finds me.
Apparently he was the closest thing to a relative that they could get a hold of
so they told him. The doctors said something vague about heart failure – which I
find hilarious because it’s well documented that my mother never had a heart – and
assured him that she barely suffered. And now I have a choice: I can go to the
funeral on Friday, undoing all of the work I’ve done to leave my life behind,
or I can stay here and I can leave my mother to rot in peace knowing she got
the last word.
She named
James as the executor of her will. Not her daughter, her son-in-law. There’s knowing
my mother didn’t care about or trust me and there’s finding out that the
husband you’ve been separated from for two months is responsible for carrying
out your mother’s final wishes.
She barely
liked James, always said that his profession was beneath me, and yet he gets
this distinguished honor? I don’t even know why I want it.
I think I
wanted to know that somewhere, deep down, she loved her daughters – despite everything
she did to us over the years. But now I know the truth. And I don’t know what
to do. I guess I have two days to decide how I’m going to bid my mother
farewell.
It’s over.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
Friday 1 April 2022
Anthony Soehner Lists The Top 5 Scenes From The Prince
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the THE PRINCE by Antony Soehner Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!