A Very No Strings Halloween (Very Holiday, #4)

by Kayley Loring

“May your joys continue to be as deep as the Irish Sea and your troubles as light as its foam.

But forty people I flew out to Boston from around North America—on my dime. Forty. Has anyone toasted to me yet tonight? Nay, they have not.

I’m the only guy who personally handwrites Christmas cards to everyone in our entire extended family on every continent every year? Nay. They do not.

You set off one firecracker in one toilet at one Thanksgiving dinner when you’re twelve and you’re labeled the troublemaker for life.

“But it’s not just how long you live—it’s how much life you live in those years that counts.

“Sure, my grandad let Pops go up in the hot-air balloon alone. Should he have used a stronger rope to tether it to the ground? Mark’s boring historians would most likely say yes. Did the rope snap? It did. Did nine-year-old Oscar O’Sullivan float off over the streets of Boston for an hour? He did indeed. But did Grandad chase after him the entire way, never taking his eyes off him? Fuck yeah, he did.

absolutely beams up at him. Their skin is wrinkled as a nut sac that’s been boiling in a hot tub for too long, but the look in their eyes makes them seem seventy years younger.

my ma’s fine with it since she can only give so many fucks about so many people.

Püppchen!”

only adds to her charm. Everything she does and everything she says only ever adds.

This wonderful, beautiful, fun broad gets it. And I fucking love giving it to her.

So I do the hardest thing I think I’ve done since trying to give up Dunkin’ for Lent.

“Well, you can only ever have your problems. Even if they’re not life or death. They’re still yours, and there’s still a problem.”

getting shit-faced and having a good time is my life. Those Halloween partiers are tourists visiting my home country.

are all wrong. I have already secured my immortality. People know me by reputation. By my deeds and the epic tales of my debauchery. I don’t need a girlfriend.

but in this case I will allow that shit.” He laughs. “Fuckin’ A, Fischer. Fuckin’ A.” The

“Okay, last thing. Come down to the basement. I got somethin’ wicked awesome to show you.” Donna rolls her eyes. “But I can see your penis so much better in this light.”

But if I could be even ten percent as excited about anything as she is about everything, it would be so much easier to face each day.

It’s my favorite month and it’s a beautiful, crisp fall day. The leaves are changing, it’s boot season, and everything smells like pumpkin spice.

I mean, the guy drives a Volvo, for crying out loud, which is pretty much the last kind of vehicle I’d expect him to drive. If he told me he drove a parade float everywhere I’d be less surprised.

Oh, and keep a lot of salt handy in case you contact a demon.”

don’t know if it really helps to protect you, but I would do literally anything Dean Winchester told me to do.”

For Billy O’Sullivan was not just good at having fun—he was a wicked awesome genius when it came to shenanigans. To him it was an art, a science, and a way of life. He was always coming up with new equations for fun. If there was a seemingly unsolvable party problem, Billy could solve it.

Billy plus Donna equals true love forevah and evah.

Come outside with me for a bit?” “’Course.” She could have asked me if I’d go to Mongolia with her for a bit and I would have said of course.