No one in their right freaking mind ever said midlife was magical.
Apparently it is.
Or at least mine is …
Once upon a time there was a paranormal romance author who caught her husband in a compromising position. One divorce later, she’s free and ready to start her new life at forty-two.
Right?
Wrong.
Divorced idiot ex: Check
Saved idiot ex from getting murdered by his new nasty gal pal: Check
Idiot ex accused me of trying to kill him: Umm check
Still seeing my fictional characters: Check
Teeny tiny crush on my lawyer: Check check
Town under siege by dark forces: Of course
Crazy enough to try and stop it: You bet
With the darkness on the horizon, I need to clear my name and get to work. Forming a Goodness Army is on the top of the list. Shockingly, my army consists of my wacky tabacky–smoking aunt, my high school counselor who can shift into a house cat, the town gossip who turns invisible after downing five beers, and a few fabulous others with nefarious talents. And of course, a cast of fictional characters … who I created and definitely have an opinion on how I should proceed.
What could possibly go wrong?
I’m going on pure gut instinct at this point, and I can’t wait to see how the plot turns out.
I may be wrong. I may be write. Either way, I’ll just keep turning the pages until I find my happily ever after.
