Salem pastry chef Lizzy Tucker is a perfectly normal girl, happy with baking cupcakes and her little house and her cat … until she learns that she has certain “powers” that place her in the realm of the supernatural … sort of. She gets visited by Diesel, a California surfer-type hunk of a guy who spends most of his time hunting down supernatural bad guys for the supernatural “powers that be.” They can’t deny their attraction for each other, but can’t actually “do it,” because the rules of the game say that if they do, one of them will lose their powers. Lizzy couldn’t care less about her powers, but Diesel’s warrior skills are too valuable to risk, and so they spend a lot of time flirting, nuzzling, kissing, and in cold showers. Oh, and there’s the monkey Carl, who gets all the good lines.
Also in the picture is Wulf, Diesel’s cousin and a dark smoldering hunk who spends a lot of time staring at Lizzy and the rest of the time threatening her if she doesn’t join “his side.” Wulf and Diesel are both hunting for an old book of sonnets which contains clues to the whereabouts of the Luxuria Stone, an ancient rock that supposedly once held the power of love, and has since been corrupted to representing lust. The Luxuria stone, along with a bunch of other magical stones, now represent the Seven Deadly Sins. One person who had the book of sonnets took a header off a balcony at the beginning of our story, and others are sure to follow. The fate of the world is apparently at stake, and Lizzy has no choice but to get involved in the fight.
We never learn exactly why Wulf wants the Luxuria stone, but we can assume he’s up to no good. It turns out a crazy nutcase named Anarchy is also after the Luxuria stone and will stop at nothing to get it. Lizzy, whose special power is being able to sense the magic in things, is sought after by all sides, but has allied with Diesel, of course. Along for the ride are Lizzy’s friends Clara and Glo, who seem to know all about the supernatural.
The best thing in this rather silly novel is Wulf’s apprentice and sidekick Hatchet, sort of like the Renfield to Count Dracula except he doesn’t eat bugs and he’s a bit of a screwup. He thinks he’s a “medieval minion,” carries a sword, says “thou” and “hast” a lot, and manages to gum up the works. When he gets hit by a flatulence spell, it almost made reading Wicked Business worthwhile.