My Anti-Hero by Tijan EPUB & PDF

My Anti-Hero by Tijan EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

• Status: Available for Free Download
• Authors: Tijan
• Language: English
• Genre: Alpha Male Romance
• Format: PDF / EPUB
• Size: 5.5 MB
• Price: Free

This was the most moronic, stupid-endous, idiotic move of all moves I’d
made in the last ten years. And I’d done some seriously stupid shit. But
agreeing to be interviewed on a local news channel when I lived mostly as a
hermit was, yeah, just plain dumb.

My armpits looked like they’d been dipped in buckets of water, and
there were red splotches all over my arms.
I’d already been in the hair and makeup chair, so not only was I
screwed, the news people were screwed. No touchup was going to fix the
mess my nerves were making of my body.

“Willow, are you ready…?” One of the show’s staff came in, saw me,
and promptly trailed off as horror flashed over his face. He clutched his
clipboard to his thin frame and reached for his radio. A forced smile
plastered over his face. “If you’ll excuse me? One moment.”
He was in the hallway in a flash, and I could hear his slightly panicked
voice. “We need a fixer in guest room two ASAP.” Click. “Also, we’ll need
to switch segments. Alert the prompter.” He continued speaking, but his
voice grew quieter, so he must’ve been walking away.
This was my fault. All my fault.

I worked alone, dealing with clients over the internet. Graphic design.
Any contact was through email or private messages. Or sometimes a phone
call, which was fine.

It’s not like I was some social recluse. I could be around people. I was
around people growing up from the time I went into foster care at age
twelve until I got lucky on my tenth home. The couple took a liking to me,
and though they’d never adopted me legally, they’d raised me in every other
way. I lived with them until I turned eighteen, then took over their
guesthouse, and I’d been there ever since.

They charged me almost nothing,
just enough to cover their gas and electric, and I’d been able to finish high
school, put myself through community college, and take a few extra classes
in Photoshop. That had gotten me to where I was now. Well, not exactly
here. Only my dumbass self was to blame for my current predicament.
“Oh dear.” Frantic energy brought my attention to the doorway, where
the makeup guy now stood. He shook his head, talking into his radio.
“We’ll need wardrobe. A new shirt for sure.” He spoke to me. “Honey,
you’ll need my chair again. Come on. You can tell me what’s going on too.
You got nerves? Is that it?”

I followed him through the back of the studio.
“I guess with what you went through, you wouldn’t want to talk about
it? I wouldn’t either. If I were you—” He prattled on, but I mostly tuned
him out. It was all things I’d heard before.

Still, I was able to respond when he said something that required a
response—a nod when needed and a grunt or yeah of agreement when it
was appropriate. I’d learned to do that a lot over the years, mentally

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