When the ice cream didn’t cut it, I went for a walk, met a gorgeous dragon, and realized I’d been living a lie. No big deal. Just another Tuesday. Back to the dragon, though. Jack’s a candy-coated hot mess. He’s bound to the ringmaster of the Underbelly Circus, and he’s desperate for my help. I don’t blame him, but there isn’t enough chocolate in the world to get me near that circus. Jack claims I’m the lost Qilin queen - a magical freaking unicorn.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of 20 years packs up and heads for greener pastures, and my son heads away to college, that's exactly what my midlife becomes. A do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at 40 I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills.

As the daughter of Dracula, you would think I’d be born the perfect monster. You couldn’t be more wrong. As far as monsters go, I’m a screw up—if I’m not tripping over my own feet, I’m accidentally murdering someone (it’s a real issue, guys). Left with no choice, Dad decides to send me to Prodigium—otherwise known as Monster Academy—to train me on how to be a better monster. When bodies turn up on campus, I’m the prime suspect (not that I can blame them).

A simple promise I made to myself after escaping a brutal childhood of abuse and being trained to enact violence on unblessed witches. Since that moment, I've managed to survive on the streets by successfully pickpocketing. Unfortunately, after years of hiding, the monster who stars in all my nightmares is closer than ever, and I'm faced with only one option—to seek refuge at the Dark Imaginarium Academy. The Academy is filled with the elite witches of our society. I should have expected I'd run into some of my previous targets. Normally, that wouldn't be a proble—except for my last hit.

My whole life has been characterized by fighting; fighting my family and fighting for my life. Trust me—the first one is completely voluntary, and a lot of fun. The second? Not so much. To say my family dynamic is weird is the understatement of the century. I held my first sword when I was only five years old, and I learned how to dispose of a body before I turned ten. I may have a penchant for pink and sparkles…but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to kick major ass as well.