Winston the Third: Fangs, Wings and Other Design Faults

Six hundred years old. Blunt fangs. Four shimmering fairy wings. Predator is a generous word. A wolf is a predator. A shark is a predator. Winston the Third once followed a woman through Soho for twenty minutes, became worried that she thought he was following her, overtook her to make the situation less threatening, and got lost. Living in a basement beneath a Camden tattoo studio, Winston survives on medical-waste blood bags supplied by an off-the-books cleaner. He looks thirty-five-a tired, divorced-at-thirty-five-and his "fangs" leave tiny white dents that disappear before he finishes apologizing. To make matters worse, four pale-blue dragonfly wings flutter from his spine whenever he's hungry, embarrassed, or annoyed. When his blood supplier suddenly vanishes, hunger drives Winston onto the damp streets of London. His attempt to hunt leads to a humiliating encounter with Lola-a sharp-tongued night-shelter worker who asks if his teeth are "in yet." But when a fresh corpse appears in a Camden alley bearing flawless bite marks, wing dust, and a centuries-old family crest, Winston realizes someone is framing him. Dragged into a web of supernatural bureaucracy, ancient family curses, and a brother who was supposed to be ash, Winston must navigate the terrifying Small Court-all while trying not to accidentally assign a living route through the one woman willing to stand beside him. Perfect for fans of Rivers of London, Good Omens, and cynical British urban fantasy comedy.