A Chip on Her Shoulder (Magical Romantic Comedies, #11)

by R.J. Blain

My mother, may her soul rest in peace, had taught me that from the day I’d busted out of maternal prison and escaped her womb.

“You’re a fucking moron, and you’re lucky I love you.”

“You sound way too happy about the idea of me facing a punishment from your brother there, Gabriel.” Michael laughed. “It is not much of a punishment if she likes it.” Oh. Oh. My eyes widened. “Nobody told me archangels were perverts. I feel like I have been deceived.” While headless, I got the feeling the archangels both smiled.

I’ll need an office, as I’m sure you have more paperwork than sense.” “I feel personally attacked by that statement.” “That is because I personally attacked you with that statement. I swear, you must have gotten kicked out of the heavens for your tendency to whine, complain, and talk back.”

Fine lines separated revenge, vengeance, and justice, and I meant to dance on them all with a ballerina’s grace.

Even if I could have breathed, I wouldn’t have for fear he’d vanish like smoke whipped on a growing wind.

If you really want to kill him, I won’t stop you. After all, it’s not really a party until the bodies start hitting the floor, and a dead man can’t come back to bother you later.”

“Idiocy is a far nastier disease, and it seems modern mortals are plagued with it.”