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Chapters (39)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Epilogue
  36. Excerpt from Boss Witch
  37. Acknowledgments
  38. About the Author
  39. Back Cover

Quickly, she finished her food and kissed him again, then he heard the water running while she brushed her teeth. His breakfast got cold while he fretted the idea like guitar strings, scrutinizing it from all angles. Suddenly, he realized he could imagine it. Making those reels had been fun. And while he wouldn’t want his face on every account he managed, he’d still like doing this for other people, making their socials funny and relatable, creating content to brighten other people’s days without making himself the focus.

Shit. Yeah. This…is what I want to do.

Right now, he was a househusband, though, so before he headed to the campaign office to pitch in, Trev fulfilled that requirement by cleaning the kitchen and the bathrooms, then he dusted and let the Roomba run wild while he put in a load of laundry. Anyone who said this wasn’t a real job had never done it, that was for damn sure. He had to hang certain clothes up to dry and load the dryer before he went out, so while he waited for the washer to finish, he searched for the classes she’d mentioned.

Soon, he had a bunch of potential courses to assess, along with one online school that offered a certificate in social media marketing and management. Trev bookmarked the sites and then hung up the delicates and tossed the rest of the clothes into the dryer with a sheet. Wonder if I should sell my car. An electric bike would be cheaper, and I could pay for classes with the rest.

There was no need to decide now, but for the first time in ages, he felt hopeful about the future. Of course, none of this was a cure for the dark cloud he didn’t want to term depression that’d gripped him tight for years. That would require talking to someone and maybe getting on the right meds. He just had to work up the nerve to do it and try not to let his old man’s brainwashing succeed in making him feel like this was mental weakness of some kind. In fact, when he considered therapy an act of rebellion, it got easier.

That’s the next thing I’ll do for myself. If I sell my car, I can afford it.