The Death Club (Dead Men Walking, #1)

by Caroline Peckham

People always hated others for being different, but really they just hated themselves for being average.

Although I had heard that there were some people who liked reading stories like mine about fucked up men like me and fantasised about taking them to bed, so maybe that was where I’d find my people. The readers who understood that sometimes a bit of choking was perfectly acceptable or maybe even desirable and wouldn’t judge me for it.

‘por favor deja de hablarme’ whenever we started chatting, and that definitely meant ‘hello, how are you.’

I’d always wanted to kill a Lionel. There was something about that name which just screamed evil overlord to me, and I felt it was best to rid the population of them just in case they ever tried to rise up and rule the world like some kind of megalomaniac dragon king.

writing books about psychos in a magical prison for Fae who are all ruled by the stars and the zodiac and the lead character would be this badass werewolf girl who wants to break out a hot, tattooed incubus with a pierced dick and-”

"Te destriparé como a un cerdo uno de estos días," I spat at him, but it only made his smile widen. "You wanna say that in English so I can slap your bitch face for it?" Niall challenged, stalking closer to us.

"Voy a bailar en tu tumba," I said darkly. "Yeah. That too," he agreed before pointing me towards the door.

"Ni siquiera después de mi muerte," he sneered and rolled my eyes. I'd take that as a no. Stubborn bastard. I'd crack him one of these days though. Somehow.

I’m a pretty little Fae with lilac hair being screwed by a sexy snake man in the land of Solaria.