Frosty, arctic death swirls across me.  I’m being thrown left and right; not by a true, nature-generated wind, but by the evil howls of an Emo-poet.  I’ve given an honest critique of his soul-stealing thought-vomit but it was not taken well.  Tiny icicles have formed on my eyebrows and earlobes.  White, patchy crystals scale across my face.  My genitalia resembles a baby acorn.  I reach a shuddering, tremulous hand toward my eReader and open it to Echo.  Magic flash.  Shaquille O’ Neal appears beside me and throws a sweat-soaked workout sock straight down the poet’s gullet.  A panicked grunt erupts from his lips—HHRRGH—and he drops to his knees, choking and gagging.  His lips turns purple, and a second later, a ghostly stream of ectoplasm with a faintly visible face arises from his mouth.  His body slumps forward, eyes dead and glassy.

Sweat-soaked Shaq sock; one of the few tools that can lay low an emo-poet in mid sentence.  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle