You can't screw up any worse than Callum MacLeod has.
The hotshot police officer had it all: a fast-track career going straight to detective, an engagement with a pretty elf waaayy out of his league, literal magic powers in his blood. You'd think a guy with all that to lose would be a little more careful with his life choices, but nope, didn't stop him from sliding down the path of alcoholism until he lost everything in one black-out drunk night of insanity.
Fortunately, things are going a little better for him. He's sober now. He goes to support groups. And his Uncle, one legendary Andrew Macleod, the same Andrew Macleod who made the Los Angeles papers again again for taking on the vampire mafia and fisticuffing it up with necromancers, died and left his private eye business, the Lost Angels Detective Agency, to Cal.
So now, he's inherited a very unhelpful imp partner, a major commercial space to upkeep with rent and utilities, a handful of bizarre clients all out of other options, and a long list of enemies from the Agency's previous owner.
All in all, things are looking up.
I've always wanted to write a book, so I'm going to, and this is it.
Thing is, writing a book takes a long time, and most of my other free time is currently taken up by either Creepy America or Solaire. So this project is currently in the 'pick up and work on when you have a spare day or two'. Which is fine; I don't mind taking the longer route to get things done. Lord knows I have to worry about enough deadlines in my life already without adding any more to the pile. And as I'm going to try to get this thing traditionally published before considering the self-publishing options I use now, we probably won't see this thing until years down the road.
Hopefully, the wait will be worth it.