DESTINY CAN BITE ME

Every prophecy needs a villain.This one got a sarcastic vampire with a bad attitude.Vincent Lupo is a jaded, wine-soaked immortal just trying to finish writing his latest smutty novel and avoid the people he’s wronged-magical or otherwise.Then a severed head turns up in his fridge, branded with an invocation sigil and whispering lines from a play he wrote a century ago. A play the wrong people believe is prophecy.Now Vincent’s neck-deep in death cults, cursed scripts, and a once-devoted mortal aide who’s now a cult leader hellbent on crafting his own narrative-and casting Vincent as the unwilling Bloodbard at centre stage.He’s not a hero. He’s just immortal, inconveniently famous in the wrong circles, and really bad at staying uninvolved.The prophecy wants him bled dry.Vincent wants a drink.Only one of them gets what they want.A sardonic urban fantasy of blood, banter, and very bad decisions.