Butter, Sugar, Magic (Baking Up a Magical Midlife #1)

by Jessica Rosenberg

“What. The. Fuck? Excuse my language. Wait, no, don’t excuse my language. Swearing is a perfectly reasonable reaction when a total stranger lights her hands on fire in front of you.”

If this is a coma, they’re giving me the really good drugs, because I swear that cat just agreed to supervise my daughter.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding

That's 1. Anymore?

“just goooooo, you mothereffer. Did you get your license in a cereal box?”

I let out the breath I’d been holding.

#2

The breath I’d been holding

#3 Why?!

I let out the breath I’d been holding,

#4

My whole life, one way or another, I hadn’t been allowed to be myself, to speak my truth, to be as loud or as colorful as I wanted. I’d been told to be a good little girl who didn’t make too much noise and then a good little wife who didn’t make waves. I’d been told what to do and when to do it and then, despite everything I had sacrificed for him, Max had ripped my life to shreds, without a thought about how it would devastate me. For the first time ever, I was doing what I loved, what I wanted to be doing. I was in charge of my own life and my own fate, and I’d be damned if I was going to let this old hag take that from me.