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170 pages, Paperback
First published April 21, 2024
“Let’s go fuck up some vampires.”
“Bloody Bitch?” Tom said.
Rosanna removed her sunglasses and set them down on the bar. “Excuse me?”
“The drink?” Tom smiled, pretending he was innocent.
“Oh yes, thank you.”
“You’re making me look overdressed. Where’s your armor?”
I tugged at my yellow sweater. “This is my armor.”
“Oh Adam, my sweet, dull-as-dishwater kitten. You’re walking into a mansion brimming with humorless vampires looking like a sunshine twink?”
“Kitten, this is not some team-building, touch-feely shit. This is a survival of the fittest exercise. This is a fuck-them-up-before-they-fuck-us-up exercise. Just know, nobody is getting anywhere near you unless they want fifty inches of Damascus steel shoved up their ass.”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ve got this.” I beamed.
“Go, have fun. I’ll find a guest to fuck— I’m joking! Don’t frown. The guests are off limits, blah blah. I promise to be good. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a dick in my eye.”
“That’s not how that rhyme— never mind.
I feared we’d made the itch worse, instead of getting rid of it. Maybe itch was the wrong word, although, standing in the same room as him did have parts of me craving his touch. And it had nothing to do with his allure.
In two weeks, I’d made an enemy of a sorcerer who knew I had secrets, and now I’d managed to enrage the entire San Franciscan vampire hierarchy. But it wasn’t all bad. I’d made friends with a shadowbeast— and kinda adopted a vampire daddy with benefits, and a demon who didn’t just suck cock for cash but could wield a sword like a badass.
Hopefully, the SOS Hotel had reached peak drama, and the next few weeks would be boring, in a good way.

“The glamor you wear is a type of ward,” the duke said, proving he was no fool. “A portable one. They’re generally not powerful, and mostly used to hide minor imperfections, or mask one’s face temporarily. But yours is powerful, and I want to see what it’s hiding.”
He snapped his fangs near my face, and wrestled against my hold. Granted, he was strong. But when I didn’t have to pretend, so was I.
“Fuck, you smell like a hundred hoes.”
“Busy night”
“But enemies to lovers? Who fucks their enemy? What kind of fucked-up romance is that?”
“Let’s go fuck up some vampires.”