That Time I Got Drunk And Saved a Human (Mead Mishaps, #3)

by Kimberly Lemming

The gods hate me. There is no other explanation for this level of bullshittery.

“Well yeah, you spent weeks digging a hole in the yard like a dog with a bone. People got curious. Low and behold, Brie and I find an entire library under the farm. What else was there to do but start a book club?”

“What is it with you guys and kidnapping? Get a hobby, damn it.”

It’s like Grandma Nutmeg always said: being a whiny little twat never solved anything. Well, that and how to hide the taste of arsenic in case your husband ever manhandles you.

I gritted my teeth and gave him another little kick. Why? Fuck if I knew. Maybe it was my hatred at being told what to do, maybe I simply had a death wish. But that one little defiant kick filled me with satisfaction.

“A man who apologizes and admits when he’s wrong? You really are after my heart,”

“I don’t even know him. What if he’s weird? Maybe he eats people or is one of those nutcases that eats pasta with no sauce. Just buttery recklessness.”

“I’ll be the bane of every creature on this continent to get a smile from you,” he

Somewhere deep in my soul, the moral compass guiding me through life shriveled up and died. Public decency? Never heard of her.

“Cryptic sayings should be illegal before sunrise.”

Sweet dancing coyotes in the moonlight, just fuck me up, you beautiful bastard—

“I love you, you fucking weirdo.”