Listen, Chucky. You haven’t begun to see bullying, okay? And just so you know, I wear my jeans ripped because I like them that way, not because some New York fashion flopsy told me to. That nice tear along the ass you keep puckering up over? That one’s to show off what mama gave me.
Now. About Amber and what she ‘should’ and ‘should not’ write. Charels, she’s a free agent. Literally. She has no strict publisher or pushy agent telling her what or where or why to write. If she wants to try a new genre–which by the by, isn’t exactly far off the mark since her teen adult idea is still paranormal romance–then she gets to. Because guess what? She’s the boss. Not you.
You and I don’t even exist without her.
So put up and shut up. Grow a pair. Amber has.
And stop staring at my ass.