Anna Chapman has been reading for nearly as long as she has been walking (arguably with more success, or at least fewer accidents) and has never been shy to share her opinion. Her musings on books and other narratives can be found on her blog and on Twitter.
Corey slipped his hand into the puppet’s back, like he had done many times with the doctor who made him talk about Michael and bathtubs and redness. His breath and stomach squeezed whenever he reached into dark, invisible places.
