Shepherd's life was supposed to be simple, and short.

Then the FBI raided the cult compound he was raised and suddenly there was no one left to sacrifice him to his demonic spouse.

So much for destiny.

Luckily even the damned and the dead still need errands run, curses managed, and carnivorous plants pruned. These days Shepherd works for Renfield Concierge Services as a jack-of-all trades.

His latest gig is house-sitting The Murder House, a necromancer's delight on the outskirts of Connecticut. All he has to do is keep out nosy teens, feed the books, and stop the coyotes, or next door's poodle, from digging up the "vegetable" garden. Easy enough.

Until the necromancer's "son" shows up with a death certificate, a notarized will, and a suspicious lack of knowledge about the supernatural world.

Now Shepherd has to honor his signed-in-blood contract without attracting the attention of any legal?or infernal?authorities who might still be interested in his cult-related past. Because Hell loves a notarised document.