I have the perfect fairy costume to wear at Mama's annual Halloween open house party. If I can lose five pounds this week. Too bad my paranormal "gifts" don't include body sculpting.

Mama always works her realtor magic, transforming the annual show home into a haunted mansion for the night. The early twentieth-century home she selected for this year's house doesn't need any help. There's already an oddity waiting in the upstairs bedroom.

What I need in life is a position with a metropolitan law firm to begin my climb up the corporate ladder. What I get is a drink with Justin Lakes.

I know! I swore off men until I get this cattywampus disaster I call my career fixed. Still, it doesn't hurt to talk to an attractive guy. Right?

Howard assigns me to the defense of a terrorist who attempted to blow up the Guntersville Dam. Al-Qaeda? ISIS? No, it's the Freeman brothers. They are on opposite ends of the genius spectrum and night and day. The one thing they have in common? Undying loyalty to one another.

While I can appreciate the sibling loyalty, their inability to grasp the gravity of their predicament is turning me into an old woman fast.

What really irks me is my inability to use a mirror lately. It was irritating enough when the words "Help me" kept scrolling across the face of any mirror I use. But, the creepy blue-green face that keeps screaming at me? Well, that's just messed up.