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Dingo Hunting
Dingo Hunting
Dingo Hunting
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Dingo Hunting

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Find you own pack
Poor pretty, dark-haired Katie belonged to Steve. But kids are kids, and Steve was Steve, and Katie didn't really have a choice in the matter.
Until she takes matters into her own hands, and gets more than she bargained for.
A story about fitting in, standing out, and finding the courage to be who you're meant to be.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 9, 2022
ISBN9781922744449
Dingo Hunting
Author

Alexandria Blaelock

Alexandria Blaelock writes stories, some of them for Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and Pulphouse Fiction Magazine. She's also written four self-help books applying business techniques to personal matters like getting dressed, cleaning house, and feeding your friends. As a recovering Project Manager, she’s probably too fond of sticking to plan. She lives in a forest because she enjoys birdsong, the scent of gum leaves and the sun on her face. When not telecommuting to parallel universes from her Melbourne based imagination, she watches K-dramas, talks to animals, and drinks Campari. At the same time. Discover more at www.alexandriablaelock.com.

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    Book preview

    Dingo Hunting - Alexandria Blaelock

    DINGO HUNTING

    Steve led the way up the embankment, because, well, Steve always did.

    Something about his wild blond surfer hair (hundreds of kilometres from the sea) and his deep ocean blue eyes just inspired the others to follow him regardless of the consequences.

    That was how Jimmy lost a finger in the combine harvester accident, though you can’t really say it was an accident when we all knew the risks.

    Jimmy just wasn’t fast enough that time.

    We called it the embankment, but it was a natural phenomenon. We had no idea whether it was an ancient caldera, cenote or maybe even a meteor strike.

    But there was a steep climb up, followed by a quick, squealing stumble down through the red dirt, and you were in the perfect place for teenage hijinks.

    The basin was so large you almost couldn’t see the other side of it. The slopes were covered in a sparse layer of scrub that thickened as you

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