Thank goodness for dictation!

I’m saying that because my hands are killing me today. I’ve spent the entire month, in between work and kids, moving my family into our new house. 

Well, new to us that is. 

It might sound crazy, but now that we have completed our family we decided to downsize and move to an area that better suited to our family’s needs as the kids got older. 

Basically, we decided we needed less inside space, and more time spent doing things outside. 

Over the last few years, I’ve noticed an alarming trend toward spending most of the day sitting, or indulging in my guiltiest of pleasures: reading while laying down.

These things may fill my heart with joy and expand my mind, but it isn’t the only thing in danger of expanding.

But I digress. 

Both my husband and I are, shall we say, independent sorts? Maybe the better word is stubborn. Regardless which adjective you use, we did not hire movers nor ask anyone for help.

Because that’s just how we roll.

That means that on my weight to work today, the steering wheel was an object that causes an unexpected amount of distress. My fingers got quite the workout as we moved dressers and mattresses, to say nothing of muscles in my forearms I didn’t know I possessed.

I’m covered with a variety of bruises to my arms and legs and a mysterious rash which I really just hope is from chafing on my forearms. Otherwise it is possible I am allergic to something in the new house which would really suck.

And of course along with that thought, I wondered what would fall be without a Halloween novella?

This is a complete standalone, light on logic and long on puns. It came about when I was professing my complete discomfort and shudder factor at the entire genre to do with zombies. For some reason, the shudders led me to thinking.

What would happen if you had a zombie who only eat vegetables?

Instantly, I was a teenage vegetarian zombie detective was born. On preorder now for October 11th in time for Halloween hijinks you can click the link to check it out.

https://books2read.com/u/3JVezX

When your day starts 6 feet under, it can only go up from there!

More next time. Must go–so much unpacking to do!