A Strange Hymn (The Bargainer, #2)

by Laura Thalassa

I guess I now have my answer to that stupid “rhetorical” question: If a friend asked you to jump, would you? Apparently, twat-waffle that I am, I would.

I swear I have a filter. I just don’t always use it.

Fucking Methuselah, that is one way to handle your enemies.

That pretty-boy king went down like a boner in church.”

Stop beating off the bush—” I wince. “Around, Temper. Beating around the bush.”

What sort of loser just forgets about these things? It’s a trick question because obviously this bitch right here is the loser who does.

I am someone’s nightmare, I tell myself. Sure, that someone is probably the next macaron I come across, but hey, we all start somewhere.