Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, Book 2: The Hammer of Thor

So…what, somebody thinks they’re about to die and they text you ‘Going down! Need Valkyrie ASAP!’ followed by a bunch of sad-face emojis?”

The charade doesn’t bother me at all. I’ll dress up, say the vows, kill my new husband, whatever.

My brain refused to get out of my head. Inconsiderate

Amir let out one of those crazy laughs you never want to hear—the kind that indicates the brain has developed a few cracks that will not come out with buffing.

“It’s okay, man,” I said, though I realized my definition of okay had become flexible over the last few months

The good old days really sucked, but they’d sucked in a less complicated way than the crazy new days.

“Dr. Chase has spoken.” Blitz scowled at the elf. “And no more running into stray bullets, you hear me?”

The corner of Hearth’s mouth twitched. I can’t hear you. I am deaf.

“Humor,” I noted. “That’s a good sign.”

Somewhere Over the Rainbow, There’s Some Messed-Up Stuff Going On

Etiquette tip: If you’re looking for the right time to leave a party, when the host yells, “No one leaves here alive,” that’s your cue.

It’s not the goat’s fault, I told myself. He does not deserve to be punched.