Fangs for Nothing (The Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven 1)

by Steffanie Holmes

a broody vampire with an ass so fine, Geralt of Rivia comes to him for fitness tips.

Perhaps if you had the dress, a man could be taking it off you right now. Think on that.

“This drink is excellent. I shall have another. And a plate of something unhealthy and delicious, ideally with cheese.” “I agree. Cheese makes everything better. Another G&T and a basket of loaded wedges, coming up.”

Correct. Cheese will fix it.

🙂‍↔️ NO✨💫

So I did what any self-respecting girl would do in my position. I squared my jaw, smoothed down my frizzy hair, and headed for the pub.

lol go on with your business sis

The bartender places a new drink beside it. “You deserve a knighthood.

I take a sip. I nearly choke. She made this one even stronger than the last. The girl’s got my back.

😆

My gaze lands on a guy at the end of the bar. …holy Gomez Addams, Edward Cullen, and Lestat’s lovechild…

I can’t explain the sensation that washes over me as I drink him in. I’d come to this pub because I was hoping to get lost from my shitty life for a little bit, but as I watch him, I wish more than anything that I could be found.

anthracite,

Period clothing in a country pub is a vibe. And that vibe is sexy AF.

Instantly, I become a cat protecting my personal territorial bubble – back rigid, hair raised, ready to scratch out some eyeballs if required.

Skeevy McPimpleFace

🤭🤡😂😂

“When your friend gets here, she can sit on my knee.” He leans in close. I cringe away from the beer and mouldy cheese scent of his breath. “Or you can sit on my knee, if you like.”

EW

You can be my Republic of Ireland, since lookin’ at you makes my penis Dublin.” He leers at me with a smile that I suspect is supposed to be charming. “I want you to taste my lucky charms.”

ACK. EWWWW

It’s the kind of kiss that Taylor Swift would write a hit song about, with every line dissecting the perfection of it.

He was just being nice, and I’d been ready to climb him like the property ladder.

☠️

Reginald yells over the rushing wind. He likes to drive with the windows down because he is a masochist. That’s probably also why he still works for me.

The way this book is hilarious and I’ve highlighted so many things lol I’m loving this so much

Remember all the fun things we used to do when you were little? All the craft projects and building forts and trips to the zoo? I’ll make a wonderful grandmother. If you had the sundresses with you, you might be pregnant already.

Mom needs to cool her tits 😂🤡☠️🤭🤡😂

the pillows have more lumps than an elephant with chickenpox),

😭🤡☠️

But ever since Patrick left me, it’s been living beneath my skin, flaring up whenever I dare to believe that I’m worthy of good things.

🥲

I’m off to meet a new client who will think I’m absolutely wonderful, and no one will remember me as the girl who moaned in the pub.

I may be a hot mess, but at least I’m a fun hot mess, like a runaway train filled with glitter and Jammie Dodgers.

But something about Nevermore Bookshop calls me. It says, “No one knows you here. You don’t have to be ashamed. You can let your guard down. What’s the harm with one little look?”

and the kind of curves that sink ships

If we don’t have parking, how does he expect people to attend? Are they going to beam down from their starships?

☠️🤡🥲🤭😂

I admit it. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic. I used to devour one or two romance novels a week – give me all the burly mountain men, clever professors with kinky proclivities, spoiled billionaires, wild motorcycle gangs, or sexy vampires, as long as the hero is broody, grumpy, and possessive with a schlong that has to be checked as oversized baggage on aeroplanes, I’m in.

☠️☠️😂🤡 SAME

“It’s not just a book club,” Isis pipes up. “It’s the Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven.” “The…what?” Komal laughs. “No one could agree on whether we were meeting to read smutty books, do a bit of amateur sleuthing, or investigate strange supernatural goings-on in Argleton. So we decided to be all three.”

Naturally. Keep up.

Reginald aims the long nose in the vague direction of the parking lot exit and hits the gas. And by hitting the gas, I mean, Reginald goes balls out pedal to the metal. The car jerks forward with a roar like a pissed-off cougar. The radio comes on, blasting loud hip-hop. Reginald sings along, slapping the steering wheel. I grab the door and hold on for dear life as we hurtle through the village.

Branches from the towering hedgerows reach in the open windows, their spindly fingers tickling my arms as we fly past. My carefully chosen ‘first impression on new client’ outfit is now covered in leaves.

Wow, absolutely hilarious… Excellent imagery

Kind of like a bay window, but built outside from my understanding

Otherwise, “ junk”

If Dracula visited Black Crag, the infamous vampire would step back in disgust and tell the owner; ‘Cool it with the gargoyles, dude. No one’s that goth.’

Cackling😂😭🤡😂☠️☠️🤭🥲😂

The base for a statue

My breathing grows shallow as a familiar dread twists in my gut. A sharp pain stabs at the left ventricle of my heart. The haphazard stacks of things, the disorder, the smell of dust and decay…it’s too much like the house I grew up in, the house I’m still desperately trying to scrub from my skin. Please, don’t let this be what I think it is…

I believe her mother has OCD… Specifically the form that manifests in hoarding… Evidently she has residual trauma from her childhood being full of absolute horror… The horror being total wreckage and mess… Yikes

Even though this place looks like a junk store had a drunken hate fuck with an Andy Warhol painting, it has a personality, a vibe, a presence.

This is the third time we have called his eyes anthracite… I will be counting… It is on my nerves already lol let’s try synonyms shall we?

no amount of acrobatic talent I do not possess will save me from my spikey doom, so I close my eyes and brace myself for pain. But no pain comes. Instead, something cool and hard slides beneath my arms, lifting me from the ground. I open one eye. Lord Valerian holds me beneath my armpits like I am a clumsy child he’s rescued from disaster, which isn’t that far from the truth. Those dark, fathomless eyes regard me with ire, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in what could be annoyance or amusement.

😂😭 currently suffering from severe secondhand embarrassment lol

“Drafty” lol could we not have just said that lol

I blurt out as a lone butterfly slams against the walls of my stomach.

All I have is a few canvases and art supplies lying around, nothing to be concerned about, but we are hosting a ball at the castle in three weeks, and my valet is convinced that my things will develop sentience and devour our guests.”

🤭

One thing I’ve learned from Mum is that people like her are in denial about how bad things are. Their stuff isn’t just stuff – it’s a precious dragon hoard, and my job is to help them protect it from filthy hobbitses.

and dusty globe in the corner. All fancy rich people’s studies have the same globe. I reckon Elon Musk hands them out for free so people will be his friends.

I’m cracked

I gasp. The paintings are beautiful. No, beautiful is not the right word. They’re arresting.

4

he goes from being a grumpy gothic villain to an excited schoolboy.

piled high with enough throw pillows to build a fort that could hold off a Viking invasion.

Why do I feel like Jonathan Harker when he first arrives at Dracula’s castle? I feel as though I’m being lured into a trap, like a fly caught in a web, but part of me is excited to meet the spider…

Mina: Does he have a woman’s stiletto jammed into his eye socket? That’s always how I imagined he’d go. Maisie: Nope, but he is wearing an expression of abject horror, which honestly looks similar to the expression most women in this village have after they had to spend any time with him.

And can you get the accounts done for me by tomorrow? I know it’s supposed to be my month to do them, but I’m positively flat out. Ta, doll!

OK… So we hate her