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184 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 9, 2025





“I am sure I can taste—among the onion and the carrots and the sauce of red wine and Port—a slick, salty back eyeball.
Preposterous, of course, dear reader. I fear I am succumbing to flights of fancy. I must not let that happen. This shan't be like the other times.”
❝‘𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓽𝔂,’ 𝓘 𝓼𝓪𝔂. 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓾𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼, 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷.❞
❝𝓢𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓯𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓶𝓮.❞
❝𝓢𝓾𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓰𝓮𝓭, 𝓸𝓻 𝓲𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓭𝓸, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶. 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝓵𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷’𝓽 𝓪 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱𝔂. 𝓘 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓽, 𝓽𝓸𝓸. 𝓞𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓘’𝓿𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓲𝔃𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓾𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓻.❞
❝𝓘𝓽 𝓯𝓪𝓼𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽, 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸.❞
❝𝓘 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷. 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷, 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓱, 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓻𝓾𝓫 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻�� 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂’𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂’𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓮-𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓫. 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓫𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱, 𝓿𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪 𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂, 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶, 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓷.❞
❝𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵, 𝓽𝓸𝓸 – ’𝓽𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓸.❞
Little girls everywhere will know they can aspire to kill, too - 'tis not only the men that do.