What do you get when you mix angels, gorgons, pixie dust, NYC, magically-infused napalm, and a barista-turned-fire-breathing-unicorn?
RJ Blain's newest book, Playing with Fire, is the simple, short answer.
The much longer answer is a madcap magical romantic comedy with a body count, a lot of fire, and a lot of highs that left me actually CAPSLOCK YELLING at the author for the second book to be written. And I don't even like romance novels, which this definitely is.
Here's the thing, though. Chief Quinn is hot. Bailey is hot but doesn't realize it due to a craptastic upbringing by parents who sucked at being parents. Of course they're meant to be together, as the rules of RomCom go. But when you throw in the fact that Bailey is the reason Quinn isn't married, the fact that she's a poverty-stricken barista with many other things working against her, and the fact that absolutely everything is insane in this particular version of the world, things don't click together quite as easily.
And I love that.
Just as one who has read anything by RJ Blain might expect, this book was loaded with some crazy shark-jumping in a the funnest way possible, twists and turns, and hilarity. Most characters are clearly muddy shades of grey, with ulterior motives for those serving on the antagonistic side of the story. I don't really want to say too much because I am not a fan of spoilers, but if you enjoy rather weird fiction and are open to the idea of entertaining new ways of thinking about nearly every kind of supernatural anything you can think of, I'd HIGHLY recommend giving this one a try.