Jenny

by Michael Golvach

Overview

What's a name but a placeholder? And what makes any of ours flesh?

Bonnie is a girl who's lived her life wanting, never getting what she needs. And what she desires most is the love of a man named Nicholas. Her long-time friend and partner in petty crime.

Now, Bonnie has resolved to make her feelings known and begin living the life she's always wished for. With Nicholas by her side.

But, when the time comes, Bonnie witnesses what she believes to be Nicholas betraying her with his former girlfriend.  Bonnie plays the silent, shamed victim, yet again. Which doesn't make her resulting actions any less damaging.

And, by the time Bonnie learns she was mistaken, and a life with Nicholas can still be had, her problems have become much worse. Both in number and in nature.

Now, Bonnie's false friends, the police force, organised crime, a lethal name from the past, an ancient evil from a hidden world, and things much more bizarre and threatening stand in the way of her happiness.

To realise her greatest wish, Bonnie will not only have to make amends with Nicholas, she'll also have to ensure they both survive the hell she's created and, if they escape, whatever worse lies beyond its borders.

Things aren't as easy to repair as they were to destroy. And the stakes have only begun to rise.

Watch out you don't trip and fall.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9798369296257
Publisher:	Barnes & Noble Press
Publication date:	07/30/2023
Pages:	512
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.13(d)

About the Author

I am a freelance writer, living in Grayslake, Illinois. I'm an award winning author of several books, screenplays and many short stories.

Ever since I was able to read, I’ve had a book (or a comic book in the early days) in my hands or on my person. I grew up in a non-digital age, in a home with one telephone that everyone shared, one television that no one watched, and in which movies were a luxury. Aside from radio theatre, books were my best non-human friends.

My love of reading never died. When I was 8 years old, I drew my first series of comic books. They were terrible, but I still love them. To me, they represent the moment the wise-old-man inside my little boy’s head finally made me aware that I loved to create.

As it turned out, I enjoyed writing much more than I enjoyed drawing, but I’ve spent most of my life doing some form of creative work. And when not, I’ve worked some boring jobs in very creative ways.

To this day, I love to write and to share my creations with others. I’m the guy who will watch a good movie twenty more times, if it means I get to introduce it to someone else and participate in their joy of discovering something entertaining or valuable. I can’t be quite so intimately participatory with my own writing, but I do love to know that I’ve brightened someone’s day, made them think, feel or—at the very least—provided them with a welcome distraction for a while.