The Bone Witch (The Osseous Chronicles, #1)

by Ivy Asher

I’m so ready for a glass of wine, my just big enough tub, and some Witcher. Lord knows I need a healthy dose of Henry Cavill in my life to remind me why I shouldn’t look into becoming a lesbian.

I could be paranoid, but I’m pretty sure that my ancestors just bitch-slapped me for my ungrateful response to being selected.

can do this. I can honor the call of my ancestors.

Is this a Mulan retelling?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he growls. “Excuse me? You waltzed into my shop, magicked me, and dropped your crazy right on the ground for all to see. I’ll look at you any damn way I want to.”

“So, just out of curiosity, when you don’t get a lot of sleep, what’s your cycle? Obviously, slap-happy is cycle one,” he points out, circling his finger in my direction as if that’s all the proof he needs. I think about the question. “Slap-happy, hangry, impatient, and then cuddle slut is a solid pattern for me,” I reply candidly.

everything feels tainted with deception now, and it’s bothering the shit out of me.

“It was just a grilled cheese,” Rogan points out with a judgmental chuckle. “Just? Just he says. Dude, that was exquisite, that’s what that was.”