Showing results for "Watt" in Private Investigators

Find a missing book. That was the job the woman in the Doc Martens gave us. Easy money, right? Only now it seems she's actually an ancient, powerful sorcerer, and the book is a Book of Power that doesn't want to be found. It wants to tear reality apart at the seams, and it'll use anyone it can to do it. So now we've got one spectacularly displeased sorcerer, a hungry, still-missing book, a dentist with bad hygiene, and a neighbourhood having some reality issues to deal with. Plus about a day before the book turns our world - and us - inside out.

"Find Malcolm. His safety is your safety." Threat or promise, I wasn't hanging around to find out. Not when the sorcerer making it had just yanked me out of my skin for a friendly chat. But with scheming magicians, lurking necromancers, and Callum's long-lost family all competing to make my next out of body experience a permanent one, having a sorcerer on our side seems like a pretty good option. There's just one problem. If we want her help, we need to find her dentist. And we've only got one lead. Weres. Mouth-breathing, ravening monsters with too many teeth and no affection for my kind.

I'm not saying the entire magical population of North Yorkshire want us dead. Just the majority. Which is why we fled Leeds to hide out in the dubious safety of the seaside town of Whitby. But lying low isn't really in our skillset, and when one of our few remaining friends is taken by the sea, we can't just walk away. We've got to get her back. Especially as her partner is a reaper with a scythe that can slice through reality, and the whole situation might be a teeny, tiny bit our fault. We're not going after Emma alone, though.

Like it or not, when a sorcerer asks you to track a magician, you track a magician. It's that or spend life as a hamster. So we did. But, turns out, the scary magician is the least of our worries. Between raging squirrel mobs, My Little Ravenous sewer monsters, and bungalow-dwelling necromancers with a good line in attack dogs, it's all we can do to keep ourselves the right side of dead. And that's before we stumble onto something far more sinister. Something that makes one dead son look like small carrots. Something that's going to raise an ancient almost-god and bring the world to its knees.

I see dead people. And I'm not the only one. They're even on Facebook. The dead are rising, and if we don't stop them before the infection spreads any further, we're going to be knee-deep in the zombie apocalypse before you can say mmm, brains. The only problem is, we don't know why they're rising, who started it, or how to stop them. But G & C London, Private Investigators, are on the case. Just as soon as we get through dealing with disapproving reapers, irate magicians, zombie-fied chickens, and a small internal case of undeadness. Trust us.

When a man from Callum's past turns up at our door claiming to have lost both the last herd of unicorns in England and his sister, I knew it should be a hard pass. The past has teeth. But old debts plus a damsel in distress means Callum just can't say no. G&C London, Private Investigators, are plunging deep into the magical underbelly of Leeds, and we're going to have our work cut out for us. Never mind the criminal dynasties, cross-dressing trolls, trained attack lizards, and philosophical donkeys - we need to find the sister and get out before the Watch get involved.