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About Essen

I ask her, “What’s the deal, doll?” She’s all, “Cash up front, no funny biz.” I’m laughin—me, funny biz? “I’m not tryin to understand the Midwest here!” I say, quotin Larry’s dumb ass. She rolls her eyes—makes me happy as a pig in shit. Love that attitude! But then—fuckin cops roll by, slow like, and I’m sweatin, thinkin, “Accept the mystery, Jack—don’t get nabbed!” She grabs my arm, pulls me into this alley—quick thinker, this gal! Saved my bacon, and I’m like, “You’re a goddamn saint!”

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I’m not always neat in my speech – sorry about typos, my brain's runnin faster than a sprinter sometimes: like, whosothat? smoeonewait? lol, etc. Eleven typos, or so, and that’s real as can be. Every cracked pavement, every mess of graffiti, and each small victory remind me of life as a counselor here. It's raw, real, and sometimes downright wild.

Bella Forrest Publishing Debuts with Blockbuster Acquisition of Iconic Catalog