Cassie Greenberg, an artist barely scraping by in Chicago, stumbles upon a ridiculously cheap apartment in a posh neighborhood. Too good to be true? Absolutely. Her new roommate, Frederick J. Fitzwilliam, is a total enigma—he sleeps all day, disappears all night, and talks like he just stepped out of a regency romance. He’s also annoyingly considerate, leaving swoon-worthy notes and showing genuine interest in her art. Oh, and did I mention he’s a vampire? When Cassie discovers bags of blood in the fridge, Frederick has to come clean. In return for the bargain rent, he needs Cassie’s help to adjust to modern life, and thus begins their hilariously charming cohabitation.

Now, let’s be clear: Frederick is no Spike or Damian. If you’re expecting a broody, dangerous vampire with a smirk and a leather jacket, think again. Frederick is more like Mr. Darcy with fangs, stuffy, formal, and painfully polite. Sure, the writing has its moments, like the dreaded “breath I didn’t know I was holding” line (cue eye roll), but if you can get past the clichés, it’s a delightful, quirky read. Plus, the vampire kidnapping subplot? Definitely not your typical romcom twist, and honestly, I’m here for it.