How to lose your job and find true love...
"This fast-pace, humorous book kept me giggling throughout the night. " - A Novel Menagerie
""Fire Me" ...had this reader chuckling out loud." - Lancaster Sunday News
"Hella funny... too hilarious for words! " - OMG It's Wendy!
"Fire Me is a zany, laugh-out-loud novel that will satisfy the mischievous child in all of us; an office worker's dream come true!" - Book Reviews by Bobbie
"For hijinxs and crazy shenanigans that'll leave you chuckling to the bewilderment of those around you, I highly suggest this book." - Love Romance Passion
"Fire me was a fun read! It had lots of humorous, unbelievable events smashed between serious life reflection and small sparks of romance." - I Loves to Read
"Libby Malin has written a funny and often charming story about life and love in an office setting. " - BookLoons
"It is the comedy... that kept me reading. Ms. Malin brings a chuckle to the day of this reader." - Coffee Time Romance
"Malin has written a light-hearted romp of a book... I found this to be a quick, fun read. " - A Bookworm's World
"Fire Me: A Tale of Scheming, Dreaming, and Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places is a quick, fun, light-hearted read. During hard times like we are currently in, this is the type of book you need to read" - Cheryl's Book Nook
"The whole book was a riot of office activity and it had me laughing more than once." - The Book Binge
"For me this was such a fun read! I would recommend it to anyone looking for a light, funny read and will be looking for more by this author." - Sam's Book Blog
"There are some good laughs in this quirky workplace romance... " - The Patriot News
"Libby Malin pens a tale that is hilarious while still being poignant and introspective. " - The Romance Studio
"Malin's skill with dialog and characters makes the slapstick ring true." - The American Culture
- Publication date:
- Product dimensions:
- 5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.90(d)
Read an Excerpt
Excerpt from Chapter 1
From Mitch Burnham's book Use It or Lose It:
Think of your employees as children. You might let them sit behind the wheel, but you'd never give them the keys to the Maserati. Sure, let them pretend if it makes them feel good. But in the end, there's only one driver and it's not one of the kids.
Monday, 7:02 a.m.
Sometimes Anne Wyatt wished she could feed parts of her life into a shredder.
She stood staring out at the crystal blue sky from her seventh floor, Crystal City, Virginia, apartment, fingers warming around a Burnham Group mug, thoughts jammed in first gear as they outstripped her ability to process them all. Her short, reddish hair was still damp from the shower and she wore one navy pump but couldn't find the other.
Should I call my brother to apologize for getting angry with him last night? Should I give up on Lean Cuisine and start eating regular frozen meals? Should I have handed in my resignation earlier when I first got word I'd landed the California job? Should I start drinking decaf or will I get a headache? Am I spending too much time with Rob when I know the relationship's not going anywhere? Should I forget about finding the other shoe and just change my outfit entirely?
Her thoughts danced and fluttered like the blossoms outside her window, eventually landing gently on the argument with her brother. Her brother was in the military and headed out for deployment overseas.
Her cat meowed gently from the short hall to the bedroom.
"Maisie, don't you think I should be able to suppress minor irritations at a time like this?" she asked without turning to look at her. She took the cat's silence as a yes.
But no, no, she had to jump in with verbal fists flying and rhetorical arrows zinging. She came from a family of fighters, after all. Her father had been a full-bird colonel and his father a general. Her mother had been an Army nurse.
Anne had not followed their path but had spent most of her young adulthood carving out a road that led in the opposite direction, away from rigidity and structure toward freedom and flexibility. She'd pursued a degree in the arts.
But she was Corporate Girl now, having forsaken flowing skirts, velvety jackets, and dangly earrings. Sometimes she wondered if her previous life had been a dream, or if she'd really wanted that life, or merely wanted to rebel or… or what?
It didn't matter anyway. She might be a responsible contributor to society now, but in her brother's eyes she would always be… Irresponsible Anne. She wished she were.
I should call Jack and smooth things over, but that's tantamount to surrender. Surely he'll lose what little respect he has for me if he senses I'm waving the white flag.
Noticing a smudge on the flat pane of glass, she quickly retrieved a bottle of window cleaner and square of paper towel. Here, at least, was a problem she could quickly solve. She'd become fastidious about her apartment lately, since she was going to need to sublet it. As she rubbed the glass, she admired the lush green landscape of spring, the earth so thick with new growth it looked like you could scoop it up with a spoon. She stepped back to admire her work just as a flash of deep blue broke away from the paler blue sky.
Bluebird of happinessan omen! She smiled. What message do you have for me?
Bump! Splat! Bluebird of happiness ran into transparently clean window.
Ohmygod. She dropped the window cleaner as if it were a smoking gun.
Get out of here, Anne, before you slay any more harbingers of spring. She hustled to her bedroom, searching for that other shoe and rehearsing her speech.
"I'm resigning, Mr. Burnham, because…"
and post it to your social network
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews >