About This Book
Hey, I'm Rachel and just so you know up front, I've got a mouth on me. Not in public -- when I can help it. Cussing is bad for the image of a bona fide guru of self-help, or that which I call "the bullsh*t I write."
Only, I'm not so sure it's bullsh*t, because in trying it out, I got my eyesight back after 20 years. Yeah, the corneal tissue came from a serial killer, and yeah, I started seeing his crimes. But still, eyesight.
I also have the hottest detective in the universe attached to my proverbial—and, okay, wider than I'd like—hip. I got his 2 nephews with the package and I couldn't fu—freaking love Jeremy and Josh more if I was their mother, which I'm way too young to be.
That's a lie, Rache. They're twelve and eighteen. You're thirty—"
Don't interrupt, Inner B*tch, I'm on a roll.
I also have my amazing bulldog, Myrtle. I understand her. She's blind like I used to be.
And I got a little something extra with my cornea transplant. "It's a blessing and a curse," said the greatest TV detective ever.
Only my something extra was…let's say down. And one of Josh's sixth-going-into-seventh-grade pals has been kidnapped. The sick prick snatched him off his bicycle and left a note behind. "Wait for instructions." Only none ever came.
What a time for my antennae to be out of whack! I wanted my stuff back.
So my wires are down, there's a kid missing, I'm bathing in my pity pool, and things get worse. A big celebrity psychic shows up to help the cops find the missing kid. In my town.
Yeah. No.
So there's all that. But I'm out of room, so…just get the book, and I'll tell you the rest.
