Storm Cursed (Mercy Thompson, #11)

by Patricia Briggs

“Could you repeat that?” he said. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I heard you just fine. I only want to hear it one more time because I’m pretty sure that I’ll never hear exactly those words together ever again.”

“It’s a weird shirt, but Dad insisted.” “Is it mithril?” I asked in awe. “You glow in the dark.” Tad looked down at himself and let out a curse. “It’s doing it again, Dad.”

posing for a society article in a magazine, maybe titled “What the Well-Put-Together Witch Wears to an Outdoor Torture Session This Year.”