Oddly Enough Publishing

MechXican

Azul is about to turn eleven — two big ones, as her father says, get it? — when she loses the first of many fingers. It is a humid and rainy autumn day in Acapulco, and she is not the kind of girl who would let anyone know. A novel of machinery, weather that teases sunshine and takes it back, and a shy girl who never complains. For the ones who draw in the dust, because the dust is what there is.

This jacket is interim and stamped as such. The true jacket is being argued about in the back room, which is how we know it will be good.