I did not order the extra slice of Armageddon to go with my midlife crisis. Apparently, if you’re an Immortal, it comes free of charge.

I have until sundown tomorrow to get to a parallel plane of existence, save my family, and kick bad-guy butt all before the world ends.

Impossible, right?

Not according to my posse of whackado buddies. They like to remind me that nothing is impossible as long as I believe.

Well, I’m about to be the mother of all believers.

Armed with nothing but a folder titled “Sh*t Pile” and backed by a few fabulous drag queens, a toothpick-chewing nutjob, a sweetheart with a penchant for sharing disgusting facts, and an ice queen who doesn’t play nice with others, we have our work cut out for us.

Time is not on my side, and I am having one hell of a midlife crisis.