Witches Get Stuff Done (Starfall Point #1)

by Molly Harper

Brisk. Wind. In. May. Her Floridian brain simply couldn’t comprehend those words being strung together.

Edison wasn’t a complete asshole, no matter what that hauntingly lovely lunatic may have thought.

The Nana Grapevine was Starfall’s social media before such a thing existed—an invisible network of well-meaning-yet-competitive grandmothers who shared everything they knew via actual landlines in a constantly escalating news cycle.

“Do you suffer an anaphylactic reaction to selfish jackasses?” she asked. “I have a similar condition. It can make life so difficult.”

“Blood contract with the doorknob’ isn’t even the weirdest phrase you’ve said today, is it?” she asked.

Since he was a child, Edison had loved how stories were like shoes, each person preferring their own style, their own fit. Sometimes, you had to help people try on story after story, letting the discarded ones pile up until they found the right one.

smirking while he plucked books off the shelves at random and put them back out of order. There was not a more sinister microaggression towards a librarian.

“Holy hell, it looks just like a tiny marble penis. Your aunt Nora literally left you a dick in a box.”