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Corinne Boettcher
The King of Nothing
What you'll love:
Ten feet lay between her and the most outrageous thing she had ever done, and somehow, she wasn’t scared. Shaking, yes, but not scared. She had far too much to prove.
Like Chihiro in Spirited Away, she held her breath and walked across the storybook bridge. Unlike Chihiro, a talking frog didn’t give her away.
A small drunken blonde did.
The King of Nothing
Up close and personal, the guy was tan as balls, making his bright green-blue eyes pop like sea glass. Having those eyes on her was mesmerizing.
She meant to just hand the cup off, maybe with a little extra force for shits and giggles, but she found herself just standing there, staring and smiling and panting like an idiot.
The King of Nothing
Unruly corkscrew curls nestled around her puffy, porcelain-white face, and he had the horrible vision of a big ostrich egg in a tiny bird’s nest.
It was so unlike how any other girl would typically act around him. How they’d typically present themselves. This was unfamiliar territory.
He didn’t know what to do with it, or how he felt about it. But it was weird. And set him off-kilter. Which he didn’t like. Not one bit.
The King of Nothing