Principles of Spookology (The Spectral Files, #2)

by S.E. Harmon

“I, Daniel McKenna, promise to love, hold, honor, and cherish you. And always say yes to shower sex.” His voice was a deep rumble, laced with threads of amusement. “There will always be room in my bed for you and only you, as long as you shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

I eyed him with a healthy dash of disgust. Jogging. On a Saturday morning. By choice.

Dear Diary, Today I was given permission to be the saltiest motherfucker that ever walked the earth.

Well, whatever the origin of my tingles, I loved him and he was all mine.

“All right, all right. You’re worse than that chattering bird that keeps crapping on my car,” he groused. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

Of course, money couldn’t buy happiness, or so everyone kept insisting. I was willing to try, but no one had yet offered me the opportunity.

No matter how many different directions my pieces flew in, one of those stupid bear hugs could always put them back together.

A small smile curved my mouth. My whiteboard was against the wall, a heart drawn in the center. It made me melt and shake my head all at the same time. I loved that man to pieces, but he really needed to stop writing on my whiteboards.

“Well, be a square with round corners, darling.”

“Lose the shirt. Time to see where you land on the Scoville scale.”