Role Playing(98)

She and Aiden had looked around frantically while her house was up for sale. They bought their current single-family house, and they’d moved in the Halloween of Kit’s sophomore year. She’d gotten to know Malcolm and his family; they still connected with the Blood Saga guild. Kit was by once a month, mostly to do laundry and raid the fridge. She still texted Rosita and Mac regularly. She even emailed Klara, back at the Falls.

“Man,” Aiden said, as they cleaned up the food. “I’m ready to food coma. I’m going to be slow as hell on this dungeon run.”

She hugged him, straightening up to kiss him soundly. “You’ll be fine, Otter.”

He smiled against her lips, framing her face with his hands. “That’s because I’ve got you . . . Bogwitch.”

She grinned. This was acceptance. This was her small town. This was where her heart was.

This was home. Aiden was home.

“All right,” she said, with one last firm kiss. “Let’s kick some ass.”





Acknowledgments

I could not do what I do without the help of the amazing team at Montlake. Alison Dasho, Krista Stroever, Cheryl Weisman, Jillian Cline . . . you’ve all believed in my projects, no matter how weird (and let’s face it, this one was bananapants).

Tricia Skinner at Fuse Literary, thank you for championing my work and talking me off metaphorical ledges when I am convinced my writing is trash. (Every! Single! Time! ) Many thanks to the publicity team at Honey Magnolia, who have been amazing.

Finally, a big thank-you to my many writer friends, who have been a source of support and guidance.

Thank you all for being there for me.





About the Author

Cathy Yardley is an award-winning author of romance, chick lit, and urban fantasy. She has sold more than 1.2 million books with publishers like St. Martin’s Press, Avon Books, and Harlequin. She writes fun, geeky, and diverse characters who believe that underdogs can make good and that sometimes being a little wrong is just right. She likes writing about quirky, crazy adventures because she’s had plenty of her own: she had her own army in the Society for Creative Anachronism, she’s spent New Year’s on a three-day solitary vision quest in the Mojave Desert, and she had VIP access to the Viper Room in Los Angeles. Now, she spends her time writing in the wilds of eastern Washington, trying to prevent her son from learning the truth about any of said adventures, and riding herd on her two dogs (and one husband).