Saturday, May 08, 2010
"This is an absolute nightmare," said Amanda, her hands awkwardly placed on hips that jutted too fat, too angular for any normal girl.
"Hold on." Jasfoup tapped the last of the numbers into his Bloodberry. "There! That should keep the accounts department off your back for a while. They won't even discover you're dead until they've finished dealing with all the e-mails from Nicaraguan millionaire refugees" He dropped the phone into his pocket. "What's a nightmare? The whole dying-and-coming-back-to-possess-your-own-body thing? It could be worse, you know. You could be possessing some old tart who thinks she can write."
Labels: Amanda Brinkley