Monday, August 18, 2014

Check Out the Latest Book by Author Lyla Payne



Check out the latest book that Two Children and a Migraine will be reviewing today!  If your looking for a new book to read then look no future!  Check out an excerpt below.  If you want to know more, please visit  http://lylapayne.com


No one notices me leave the sidewalk and traipse around to the rear of my place of employment. It’s darker back here, away from any street lamps and lit signs. The unlocked window slides up under the pressure of my palm with no resistance and, most importantly, no noise. I have to jump a few times before my hands hook the sill, and it’s clear that I need to do more than walk to work if I’m going to get back into shape.
My grunts don’t carry far, and after a few more minutes of trial and error, I manage to hoist my hips over the painted wooden lip. It digs in, scraping hard enough that it’ll leave a bruise, but there’s no time to worry about that while my body is dangling half in, half out. The chance that anyone will wander back here seems slim, but there’s no excuse in the world that will work if I get caught like this.
I kick my feet and use my forearms to tug my body forward, which doesn’t work, until it does. I fly through the rest of the way, toppling face-first into the edge of the toilet.
"Holy shitballs, that’s gonna leave a mark." Quoting Tommy Boy, even to myself, is usually good for a chuckle, but at the moment my face feels as though it’s made of broken glass and pulsing pain.
My nose throbs, my vision blurs, and it takes more than five minutes of sitting still with my head between my knees before the dizziness subsides enough to allow me to stagger to my feet. The mirror reveals a weeping red line across the bridge of my nose, which promises to turn into at least one black eye. So much for Gramps not noticing I went out.
Oh, well. Onward and upward.
There’s no alarm system in the library, and no one else is in the building. Neither fact makes me slow down or feel less watched, and my steps move quickly toward the front desk. Mrs. LaBadie keeps her key in the locked top drawer, but she doesn’t know about my long and storied career picking locks with nothing but unbent hairpins. Another Nancy Drew–inspired talent. The multiple Carolyn Keenes had no idea what kind of delinquents she would spawn with those books.

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