Down & Dirty: Supernatural Cleaning Services (Book 1)

Sometimes you have to play dirty.

I’m Paige Harper and I clean up supernatural messes. But my personal life is something I can’t seem to straighten out.

I accidentally married a fae, and even though we've been divorced for years, Jax still manages to land me in hot water. Like, putting my house on the table at a high stakes poker game type of hot.

Now, he's been arrested for murder and the cops want to pin a series of vampire killings on him. I don't know if he did it or not. But I do know he needs to be at that poker game or else my house is gone.

In order to get Jax out, I turn to Nico, a one-eyed werewolf private detective, for help. Nico is a handsome, dangerous, ladies man and I have no intention of falling prey to his charms.

Although, that's easier said than done as the two of us begin crawling through the dirty underbelly of the supernatural world…

It’s a good thing I brought my broom.

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Excerpt:

Grabbing the steaks, I head out. But this shit-show of a day is not yet done. Nico, the private dick from next door, is waiting outside for me. I mean technically he’s just leaning against the small slice of brick wall between our office doors, but the minute I walk out he turns my direction in a way that tells me he has something to say.

“Paige,” he says, his voice a low rumbly growl that I feel in the pit of my stomach.

Ugh. I really can’t stand him. He takes up more than his fair share of space, forcing me to step back or else just live with him standing uncomfortably close. At five foot nine, I’m not short, but next to Nico I feel petite. Maybe some girls would enjoy that feeling, but not me. The world is too uncertain and dangerous for me to indulge any damsel in distress fantasies. I may not be a supe, but I am a badass. And I like knowing that I can take care of myself.

Nico, though, seems to have the idea that I need his help and protection. More than once he’s warned me from going into certain areas he deems too dangerous. Another time he mansplained to me how best to get animal hair off couch cushions. I mean, c’mon, dude. Sure, I get that he occasionally sheds, but I’ve been doing this job for a long time and don’t need his helpful little tips.

That being said...it has not escaped my attention that Nico is a very nice slice of manhood. Or half a slice, I guess. Since he’s half wolf. But I’ve never seen that part of him–although sometimes on full moons if I work late I’ll hear howling. It always makes all my hair stand on end.

Now he leans against the wall with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest. There’s not one inch of flab on him. Trust me, I’ve looked. It’s almost impossible not to. He wears these tight white tees and beat-up jeans. In the winter he adds a worn leather jacket. It’s so cheesy. Like he’s doing some sort of James Dean Rebel Without A Cause-type thing.

Except...oh man, it looks good on him. Real good.

So good that I have to sometimes remind myself that I would never get involved with a supe. I mean, I accidentally married a fae, but that was not my fault. He didn’t even know he was fae, at the time. That was the first thing that soured me on supes, especially the attractive ones—and they all seem to be easy on the eyes.

But with Nico, sometimes I wonder what he might be like between the sheets. Maybe it’s just my proximity to him. Seeing him day in and day out. I noticed the other week when he changed his cologne.

Plus...the walls between our offices are thin. Like I’ve-heard-him-servicing-clients kind of thin. And by servicing, I mean that sometimes when ladies find out their husbands are cheating he comforts them with his penis. To be fair, the lady is always the one initiating it. But still, it happens enough that I know the sound Nico makes when he comes, so...

As if reading my mind, Nico says, “Thin walls round here, huh?”

“What?” I ask, jumping a little.

He frowns at me like he can’t figure me out. “Heard you’re doing work for a fae. You know who he is?”

I shrug. “No. Why should I?”

Nico points to my window.

It reads Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services. And there’s my logo too. Dad hated it. Said he felt like he was prostituting me. But I insisted. Sex sells and we needed every advantage we could get. So there’s a sex kitten cartoon that maybe if you squint could kinda look like me. Even Dad eventually had to admit—it worked. People walk by, see it, and stop. They read the window. Maybe they don’t need us right now, but later when they get in a feud with the manticore family next door and get their lawn clawed to shreds—they remember me and call.

“You wanna be in the supernatural services?” Nico asks. “Then maybe you should know a little bit more about your clients.”