I mean, life has always been complicated, but there’s a difference between monsters-are-trying-to-kill-you complications and monsters-are-in-love-with-you complications. I’m still not sure which is more dangerous.
G’day. I’m Pet. Two-thirds of a pet, anyway: the vampire isn’t claiming ownership these days, but he’s definitely encroaching. On the list of other encroaching complications is the threat of heirling trials, a certain fae lord, and a mysterious librarian—not to mention the thing that’s killing people on Hobart’s waterfront…
One day, I’ll have a normal life. Today is not that day.
W.R. Gingell is a Tasmanian author of urban fantasy, fairy-tale retellings, and madcap science fiction who doesn’t seem to be able to write a book without a body suddenly turning up. She solemnly swears that all such bodies are strictly fictional in nature.
W.R. spends her time reading, drinking a truly ridiculous amount of tea, and slouching in front of the fire to write. Like Peter Pan, she never really grew up, and is still occasionally to be found climbing trees.