Back in second grade I had a crush on a kid named Terry. Amazingly, Terry ignored me.
I obsessed about ways to win his attention, none of which ever worked but did result in a novella (yes, when I was 8) about heroically saving Terry after he faceplants into Niagara Falls. Anyway, Dead Spot is a grownass reworking of it, wherein the heroine’s got a motorbike instead of a Radio Flyer, and dark proclivities, and no moral compass.
Yo Terry, if you’re out there, read Dead Spot. Ebook $5, dead trees $12. You owe me, pal.
Sydney Schuster and Dead Spot neither approved nor endorse any third-party advertising that may appear below, nor do we derive any income from it. Feel free to ignore it.