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    One of the Smarter Ones: Uncollected Anthology: Warlock, #14
    One of the Smarter Ones: Uncollected Anthology: Warlock, #14
    One of the Smarter Ones: Uncollected Anthology: Warlock, #14
    Ebook75 pages47 minutes

    One of the Smarter Ones: Uncollected Anthology: Warlock, #14

    By Stephanie Writt

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    About this ebook

    I can’t believe they fired me!

    I mean I could have done without the pomp and circumstance of being bodily thrown from the department store. How was I to know that I was a raging lunatic? No one had told me that until that day. I mean, according to Pierre Marie Jerk-nad, I was a true wad of bonkers. Lost to the realms of the drooling and eating my own crap.

    Well, I can attest to right now that I have never eaten my own crap.

    And whatever I’d done to make him think I was a raging lunatic I was going to try to avoid today, because today I started my new job.

    And I forgot to put on underwear.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStephanie Writt
    Release dateNov 1, 2017
    ISBN9781386949855
    One of the Smarter Ones: Uncollected Anthology: Warlock, #14

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      Book preview

      One of the Smarter Ones - Stephanie Writt

      One of the Smarter Ones

      One of the Smarter Ones

      Uncollected Anthology: Warlock

      Stephanie Writt

      Wayne Press

      Contents

      One Of The Smarter Ones

      Read and be happy!

      Robert Jeschonek: A Spice Most Demanding

      Annie Reed: The Fixer

      Dayle A. Dermatis: No Magic in the World

      Kristine Kathryn Rusch: Oathbreaker

      Leah Cutter: Transformations

      Michele Lang: Hello Darkness

      Annie Reed: Deadbeats

      Rebecca M. Senese: Borrowed Magic

      Leslie Claire Walker: Red Rose

      Free Story: 1st in Geriatric Magic’s: The New York Collection

      Geriatric Magic

      Want to read more in this series?

      Preview: Love & Jinx

      Part One

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Love & Jinx: Want to finish reading?

      Also by Stephanie Writt

      About the Author

      One Of The Smarter Ones

      UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY ISSUE #14: WARLOCKS

      I can’t fucking believe they fired me.

      I meant I could have done without the pomp and circumstance of being bodily thrown from the department store. How was I to know that I was a raging lunatic? No one had told me that until that day. I mean, according to Pierre Marie Fuck-nad, I was a true wad of bonkers. Lost to the realms of the drooling and eating my own shit.

      Well, I can attest to right now that I have never eaten my own shit. That I can remember. I mean, because if I am that crazy, would I remember it as shit? Or maybe as something nummy like pudding or raisins. Raisins are really good. And I guess you could confuse poop pebbles as raisins. Or maybe like rodent shit cause they have a raisin-like similarity. All round and such. But then that wouldn’t be eating my own shit then. I’m eating someone else’s, and not even a human someone else. I really don’t think that is what Sir Pierre meant.

      Whatever I’d done to make him think I was a raging lunatic I was going to try to avoid today, because today I started my new job.

      I plopped my butt down onto the concrete curb to wait for the bus and it kinda chafes. I think that was the word. I’d forgotten to put on underwear.

      Grandma had started yelling at the wall this morning. Another disappointing episode of Who Wants to be a Millionaire was playing in her head again. I think it was a rerun. I’d heard her shout those answers out quite a few times in the past week. She ate her yogurt with a lippy chew when I spooned it in there when she opened up to bellow. It’s much easier to feed her when she is angry at the show. If I don’t get in there right away I miss my window and she may switch the channel to Highway to Heaven or Matlock. Then I have to hope for a sad episode. She wails with her mouth open. Have to be careful with the gasping. Yogurt might go down the wrong pipe.

      Sister Jean will stop by to check on Grandma after communion. I try to be out of the house by then. Can’t stand the weight of her. Not her body. She is more tiny than me. But super old. Almost as old as grandma. Her two magnifying glasses strapped to her face makes her wrinkles around her eyes ginormous. And her eyes all bug-eyed and creepy.

      No, the weight is her words. And that book she carries around. She keeps telling me it’s super important. And talks to me about this gang of guys that went around telling people about their dad who was this super great guy. I mean, that’s nice and all, but still not sure what the big deal was. My dad was super nice, too. Until he fell out of the tree trying to save a cat that was in a different tree. He thought it would be easier to just jump across to

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