How to Survive Dating a Cosmic Disaster Book 2 Escrow on Infinity (And Other Minor Escapes)

VACATION NOTICE: The laws of physics have been temporarily evicted from coastal California, and refunds will not be issued!

Arthur Pendelton is an actuary. He believes in sensible deck shoes, double-entry bookkeeping, and an ironclad Sabbatical Protocol designed to guarantee zero percent metaphysical nonsense on his romantic getaway. He wants two quiet months of sunshine with his girlfriend, Celeste—an ethereal force of nature who treats physical constants as mere polite suggestions.

Instead, Arthur finds himself trapped in a rental bungalow where:

The front deadbolt keeps opening into eighteenth-century Spanish mission courtyards. The Pacific Ocean drops to nine frames per second and optimizes itself into warm ginger ale. Their newly adopted wire-haired terrier, Barnaby, is a quantum-entangled menace who barks in prime numbers and buries bones in six dimensions simultaneously. The backyard swimming pool ceases to have a bottom and opens directly into the Crab Nebula.

And that's before the in-laws arrive.

When Celeste's six-foot-two, lightning-crowned Aunt Andromeda blasts through the hallway linen closet, she immediately melts the living room into non-Euclidean curves and begins simmering a six-quart casserole of compressed dark matter on the vintage stove. With four gravities of crushing familial pressure warping the kitchen cabinets, an interdimensional HOA issuing citations for unpermitted infrared wallpaper, and a bureaucratic Auditor trying to erase their timeline via the toaster, Arthur must wage war the only way he knows how: through aggressive, unyielding accounting.

Armed with a red grease pencil, Roberts Rules of Order, and sixty grams of unionized sourdough starter, can one exhausted Scotsman audit the multiverse into submission before lunch?

Book your stay today. Mind the four-gravity kitchen shear, keep your dog out of the Pleistocene era, and whatever you do, never let an Auditor touch the sourdough.