Ye screw with this lass, ye get put on yer ass.
Revived after months of being cursed and comatose, I'm thrown straight into Christmas and a chaotic case of carnivals, cannibals, and country cops.
Seriously, I can't make this stuff up.
Team Trouble continues to bust our butts to smooth out the rough edges between the empowered and ordinary communities. The problem is . . . the wacked and weird isn't slowing down.
It's been a year, and something has got to give—Sloan's worried it will be me.
With family, friends, and Tarzan the Magical Marvel at my side, s'all good. Well, other than Dionysus trying to convince us to run away with the circus.
