Date Published: 7/23/2017
Publisher: JME Books
Have you ever noticed that reading a book on the toilet takes forever? Wouldn’t it be nice to have stories suited to your specific potty needs? This collection of short stories ranges from 50 words to more than 50 pages, separated in categories labeled to fit your bathroom needs: NUMBER ONE, NUMBER TWO, and FARFROMPOOPIN. The idea is to give you, the reader, a great deal of material to read, tailored and categorized to the needs of your intestines and bladder. So go ahead, get comfortable, pull out your Squatty Potty® and enjoy some fantasy, science fiction, horror, adventure, and humor from the comfort of your own throne…the john…the latrine…your office…the bathroom, whatever you want to call it. Just be sure to wash your hands once you’re done.
Excerpt
“Get him to his
feet,” Sarah ordered.
“Watch my shoulder,”
Jedediah said. “Hurts like a son of a bitch.”
Sarah slipped beneath
his wounded arm while Bobby Ray slipped under the other one. They led Jedediah
to a seat that hadn’t been overturned during the fight.
The cowboy knelt
before him, pulling back Jedediah’s shirt to scrutinize the wound. His face
remained hidden by the wide brim of his hat. He wore hide boots whose origin
Jedediah could only speculate and his skin smelled like fire.
“It’s not too deep,”
the cowboy said. “Won’t take me a minute.” He pressed his large flat palm
against the wound.
Jedediah bit the
inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. His mouth pooled with the
iron-taste of his own blood.
The cowboy lifted his
hand.
Jedediah stared as
the gaping holes in his flesh were completely healed; the tear in his blood
soaked shirt was all that remained. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Be careful,
bartender. You don’t meant it.” He leaned over the body of what had once been
Frances Deveaux and whatever had tried to eat Jedediah. “This one’s dead.”
“Course he is,” Bobby
Ray said. “You killed him.”
“No. This man’s been dead.” The cowboy rolled the body
on to its stomach with the steel-tipped toe of his boot. “Was before he walked
through those doors.”
“The living dead?”
Bobby Ray whispered.
“Of all the unholy
things,” said Sarah.
Beneath Frances
Deveaux’s shoulder blade lay an empty cavity where his liver should have been.
“Detestable.” Sarah
covered her mouth and swept to an empty seat near the bar.
“Did he say why he
was here?” the cowboy asked, staring at the body.
“Not precisely. Just
said some woman tried to kill him, so he gave her what she wanted.”
“And what was that?”
Jedediah gulped hard.
“Me.”
The man looked up,
his face in shadows. “You?”
“That’s right.”
“Did she say what
for?”
“Never got to that
part.”
The man didn’t say a
word as he stared at Jedediah. Finally, he spoke. “Something’s after you, Jed.
I’m gonna stay in town a while to figure out what.” He looked up. “You okay
with that?”
His eyes shone in a
radiant shade of violet. Dirty-blond hair fell ragged from beneath his hat.
“Yes, Simeon. I’m
okay with it,” Jedediah said. “I think I’m gonna need some help on this one.”
“First thing to
figure out is where this man’s liver went. Hopefully, it will lead to this
woman you mentioned.” Simeon stood, walked back to the entrance, and turned in
the doorway. “You all better get your feet shod,” he said with a smirk, tipping
his hat, “because it’s about to get ugly.”
About the Author
Jaimie Engle was once sucked into a storybook, where she decided she would become an author. She has modeled, managed a hip-hop band, and run a body shop. She loves coffee, trivia, cosplay, and podcasting on ORIGINS, where myth and science meet (podcastORIGINS.com). Basically, if it's slanted toward the supernatural or nerdy, she's into it! She lives in Florida with her awesome husband, hilarious children, and the world's best dog. She also happens to have the world’s best literary agent, Saritza Hernandez. Become a fan at theWRITEengle.com. Follow on social media @theWRITEengle and pick up books at jmebooks.com.
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Goodreads Giveaway: July 1 – July 22 (3 paperbacks)
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