Not all that glitters is gold

Where better to learn that lesson than in the hallowed halls of the gilded Nine Realms Resort and Casino in Las Vegas?

Odin, aka Alldickhead, has led me on a merry chase—if you consider foul-mouthed mobster hummingbirds, a bisexual millionaire cross-dresser, and heartbreak to be merry. To be fair, the millionaire is quite merry, but it’s hard to appreciate good drag when you’re about to die.

When things can’t get worse, my Aunt Flo pays a visit. I suppose there’s a price for rocking this awesome body, and Ragnarok in my pants is the fee. (Mad respect to those who bleed for seven days and don’t die. Or kill anyone.)

Odin remains one step ahead, lobbing unwanted surprises that could destroy the first real friendships I’ve had in centuries and torpedo my romance with the hot AF Gunnar Magnusson, not to mention, obliterate any chance of retrieving my runes.

But yours truly isn’t giving up. In fact, I’m laying all my chips on the table. You can’t con a con man, my friends. As Asgard is about to be reminded, they don’t call Loki the trickster god for nothin’.

Book 2 in the Asgard Awakening urban fantasy comedy series