After being fired from her fashion internship in New York City, Mina Wilde decides it's time to reevaluate her life. She returns to the quaint English village where she grew up to take a job at the local bookshop, hoping that being surrounded by great literature will help her heal from a devastating blow. But Mina soon discovers her life is stranger than fiction - a mysterious curse on the bookshop brings fictional characters to life in lust-worthy bodies.

I'm Bree, and I see dead people. Not all dead people. Only those with unfinished business. They're everywhere—I'll be eating my breakfast, and a poisoned heiress glares over my Cheerios. I've returned to my hometown of Grimdale to cat-sit for my parents while I plan my next move. I'm looking forward to raiding their fridge, hanging out with their two kittens, and staying far, far away from anything supernatural. But I forgot that I'm never alone in Grimdale. The three ghosts I used to play with as a kid are back in my life again. Only now I'm their age, and they're infuriatingly attractive.

At Blackfriars University, there’s one whispered rule: Stay inside the night before Halloween. Hide under your blankets and hope the Orpheus Society isn’t the monster outside your window. If they get you, you won’t just be humiliated. They’ll put you six feet under. But I’ve screwed up. I found bones in a shallow grave. Another good girl, just like me. Now I’ll do whatever it takes to get to the truth. I’ll tempt the dark priest with forbidden tastes. I’ll be their shameful little secret. Their plaything. Their sacrifice.

Especially a matchmaker who works at the kind of paranormal bathhouse that would have grandmothers clutching their pearls. A worse look is a matchmaker experiencing a crisis of confidence. I am that matchmaker. 

Don't get me wrong, waking up to discover my ex-husband finally killed me wasn't fun. Finding out I had to get a job and pay Afterlife taxes about 10 minutes later? Let's just say, this wasn't exactly the eternal reward I was hoping for. But beggars can't be choosers, and being a demon sure as hell beats my last occupation. I’m well on my way to retirement behind the pearly gates when the impossible happens. The Risk Witches have a vision.