How to Escape Death: A Preview
Book Two in the How to Be a Better Adult Series!
Not to spoil anything, because I’m still shipping signed hardcovers, but if you’ve read my book How to Be a Better Adult, then you’re familiar with the character above—Mona Kitt. She’s been a reader favorite, which isn’t a surprise to me at all! And luckily for those who love her…she’s the main character of book 2: How to Escape Death.
I’m sending you an exclusive peek at the cover art annnnd an unedited preview of my rough draft. This one will be another absurdist tale, but instead of tackling feeling like a failing adult, this one will ultimately be about regret and forgiveness. Don’t read if you don’t want spoilers!:
“Let’s reveal your fate, shall we?” The fortune teller hovered her perfectly manicured fingers over a glowing crystal ball, waiting for the future to reveal itself. Her stack of bangles clattered on her wrist with each wave of her hand.
Mona sat across from the woman, wearing a sleek suit and checking her smartwatch. Only twenty minutes to spare. She glanced around the cramped studio at the piles of aging books, thrifted artwork, and woven tapestry draped from wall to wall. The scent of incense and wax candles wafted through the air.
After a few moments, the fortune teller gasped. She looked up, shadows cast across her face by flickering candles, eyes wide with fear, her mouth hanging open–weighed down by the gravity of what she’d seen.
“Mona Kitt,” she whispered, “My crystal ball reveals all…and there’s death in your future.”
Mona sat back in her seat, crossing her arms as she looked down in what appeared to be deep thought. “Ok?”
“Terrible, I know.” The fortune teller, overtaken by what seemed to be sorrow, shook her head before reaching under the table and pulling out a wooden box. “But we do have some items here that could help you–”
“What else?” Mona interrupted.
“What…else?”
“Yes, what else is in my future?”
The fortune teller cleared her throat. “There’s nothing else. If you don’t take precautionary measures, you’re going to die.”
“There aren’t any precautionary measures I can take, love.” Mona laughed, but in the way you laugh when you’ve heard enough. “I was honestly hoping you weren’t a fraud. Thought maybe you’d surprise me.”
“Excuse me?” The fortune teller took great offense to being labeled a fraud. She absolutely was, but she didn’t want anyone else to know, you know? “Did you just call the Madame Mirage a fraud?”
“If you’re not a fraud,” Mona smirked and leaned forward, “tell me when it’ll happen.”
“Well, the crystal ball isn’t exact on dates, but–”
“So, you tell people they’re dying, which we all do at some point…but can’t tell them when?”
“Well, no–”
“So, how will I die?”
“The other realm doesn’t deal in specifics–”
“That’s because there is no other realm.” Mona averted her eyes as her expression darkened. “I’ll be dead in two months.”
“Suicide?” Madame Mirage asked nervously. “If you need someone to talk to–”
Mona shook her head. “Murder, I think. A fitting end for me, honestly.” She slid a rolled joint from her purse. “Mind if I smoke in here?”
Madame Mirage shrugged in defeat. “Go ahead. As long as you share.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Mona held the joint over the flame of a candle, then took it between her lips and inhaled deeply. She blew a thick cloud of smoke into the atmosphere before handing it over to the fraudulent fortune teller. “And you’ll tell all your fake fortune-telling friends right after I leave. You’ll call Miss Bella first. You’ll tell her I’m the finest client you’ve had all month.”
The fortune teller blushed. “How’d you–how do you know that?”
“I’m a Futurist.” Mona looked up. “You do know what that is, don’t you?”
Madame Mirage wasn’t sure what a Futurist was, but she nodded her head as if she understood, because she was already exposed as a fraud and feared appearing daft as well.
“If you already know your fate, why’d you come to see me?” she asked before taking a draw from the joint herself.
“Just looking for some hope, I suppose.” Mona laughed, but in the way you laugh when you’ve given up. “Here.” She slid two crisp one-hundred dollar bills across the wooden table. “And you can keep the weed. I’ve gotta get going. I’m expecting a package.”
I’m back on social media! And I already hate it! I love interacting with everyone, but I don’t like the waves of bad news inundating my timeline. Unfortunately, I’m not in a place where I can totally abandon social media, so I’ve been trying to find ways to engage how I like to without feeling emotionally affected by everything I see.
One thing I challenged myself to do was refrain from explaining my absence online in one of my trademark long, drawn-out, and overly emotional posts. Because:
a. No one cares, and…
b. I want to personally stop feeling like I owe anyone an explanation.
As a neurodivergent person who was bullied A LOT, I’ve developed a fawn response. This means I often apologize for everything, feel like I have to over-explain to be accepted or understood, and beat myself up for over-sharing after I’ve done it. I’ve decided this newsletter is where I’ll share all my drawn-out thoughts and feelings, while the internet is for fun and promotion…and fun promotion. Speaking of such, have you checked out my How to Be a Better Adult playlist on Spotify? It’s impeccably curated, if I do say so myself!
Anyway, what do you think of Mona’s story so far?
I’ve almost reached my goal of 100 honest reviews on Goodreads! If you’ve read my book, please leave me a star rating, and let other readers know what you think! If you don’t have Goodreads, check it out on Amazon. I have the same goal there! I want to continue writing weird novels about woeful women, and the more reviews I have, the better it looks for future opportunities. The rating itself doesn’t matter, just the volume, so please don’t feel bad if you have a less-than-stellar rating. I’m not taking anything personally! I’m just stoked anyone is reading 😆
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Read my nerdy self-help book!: The Magical Girl’s Guide to Life
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