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

by Steffanie Holmes

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.’

book club that ACTUALLY discusses the book and doesn’t devolve into village gossip, amateur sleuthing, the consumption of enormous amounts of junk food, and hexing our exes? What kind of heathens do you take us for?

“What’s in this muffin, apart from sadness?” “They’re made with sprouted mung beans, ashwagandha, reishi, lion’s mane, and I mixed in a quinton shot for foundational vitamins and gut health.” “It tastes like a hate crime.”

But when the night is filled with monsters, you need the worst monster of all on your side.

I’m not a character in a book. I’m a totally normal, slightly neurotic clean freak with an odd, grumpy client who is definitely not a murderer. Or a vampire.

“I’m sorry, you rescind the tea invitation? That is the sickest burn I’ve heard from a member of the aristocracy.”

He waggles an eyebrow. “That bed was plenty big enough for the two of us the other night.” Oh balls, I am living in a smutty romance novel.

I’ve spent my whole life running from the trauma of not being able to trust someone who loves me, who was supposed to take care of me but couldn’t. That fucks with your head.