"Doyle, are you still mad at me?"

"Yes," I said, because all the folktales say you should not lie to an angel. And, because I was still mad.

"If..." He broke off. I was halfway down the casualty lists when he blurted, "If you have sexual congress with me, will you stop being mad?"

Tea went everywhere. If I'd had a mouthful of toast, I probably would have choked to death. As it was, I wheezed and gasped and finally said, "WHAT?"

— The Angel of the Crows by Katherine Addison (38%)