Book 1, Chapter 37

“Like hell!” Doom yelled, interrupting whatever Rachel had been about to say. Ean swiveled toward Doom and cursed – for a moment he’d been too flustered to remember the other man had been in the room.

But Doom was in the room, and he was livid. “You said you were fine and then – right then – you fake falling over so you can grope the new girl, and now you think you can make some excuses and talk your way around it? Hell. No.”

And then Doom did what he always did. Ean had a second to register the steam coming out of Doom’s styrofoam cup before the rest of its contents were spilling through the air toward his face.

Rachel yelped in an inarticulate protest. Ean screamed in very articulate pain, and Doom crowed in triumph. Ean, who had thrown himself backward in order to take a scalding cup of coffee in the chest instead of the face, crashed into the floor again. This time his head bounced.

“Okay,” he wheezed at the ceiling. “Now I’m grievously injured.”

Then, attracted by the ruckus, E’s coworkers came bumbling in and for a brief while the break room was more crowded than it had been in years.

Et Alia, Book 1: Aliens, Ninjas, Demons and Pie

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