If you’re here you may have heard about a book called THE AWESOME. I affectionately call it my National Lampoon’s Feminist novel.  Other people, like Kirkus and Publisher’s Weekly, had much smarter things to say about it.  They were even nice things.  THANKS, GUYS!

Anyway, if you’re here because of my book, thanks. If you wandered here for other reasons–cool! And welcome.

In celebration of my UK release of THE AWESOME (which is coming 5/7), I’m attaching some paragraphs of a project that is, tentatively, at this time called THE AWESOMER.

For obvious reasons.

Thanks for swinging by and happy reading!

CHAPTER ONE

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

CHAPTER TWO

There are some obvious benefits to being psychic. For one, you always know when your boyfriend is thinking about your boobs (answer: often.) For two, you know that when the clerk at the grocery store says “Have a nice day” she actually means “Eat shit and die.”

Unfortunately, you also know things like Mom’s vampire hump buddy–also known as my vampire master Jeff–has an enormous wang, and oh-by-the-way, her period was late and HEY AREN’T HALF VAMPIRE BABIES TOTES UNCOOL?!

Yes, Mom. They’re totes uncool.

She hadn’t actually mentioned her delicate condition yet, and after the accidental discovery that Jeff’s wiener made ponies feel inadequate, I tended to avoid barging into her head space. But she must have been thinking REALLY hard about her potential chompy womb goblin because it slipped into my head as clearly as if she’d said it aloud.