Image of the MISSWIRED novel cover, which displays a shawl, two coat check tickets, and a clove cigarette sinking under a floating kickboard in sunlit water. The excerpt reads: Then it hits me like a baseball bat–Sophie. And without warning, so it begins. My brain spirals into a recurring dream, and weaves into a neglected memory, where I am spinning, dancing arm-in-arm with a fairy, Cupid. And he breaks free of my arm, and snickers as he pulls back his bow and releases his arrow in an effortless bullseye right into my heart. But when his syringe of euphoria is supposed to pierce through my chest, and I am supposed to levitate, I instead crack, and the arrow–his arrow–drops and keeps dropping through me in a never-ending descent.