Page 66 of Fang Fiction

There is no longer any way to contact August Lirio. Lirio used to have a contact form on their website back when Blood Feud was self-published, but that came down before the traditional book came out.

Lirio is now the biggest-selling author on the planet with a secret identity. With almost ten million books in the Blood Feud series sold, Lirio is certainly in rare company. Very few authors can sell those kinds of numbers, and all the ones who do have, you know, names and faces.

A fourth book is coming (we hope?????). Lirio’s original book sale was a four-book deal. Three Blood Feud books are out already, so theoretically they’re under contract for one more??? But it’s been five years since book three came out, and there’s no news at all about whether they’ve even started book four, let alone a publication date, so we all just have to wait in pain!!!!

…annnnnd that’s what we know about August Lirio. Did you find this post helpful? Lmk in the comments!

Comment from user KStan88971: Post was ok but can you please post more info about Konstantin he is my DARK KING DADDY

“Dark King Daddy?” Octavia put down her wine and peered skeptically at Joni.

“I didn’t write it!” Joni protested.

“But you agree?”

“Octavia, please, I’m literally gay.” Joni cringed. “Cate Blanchett is the only Dark King Daddy I acknowledge.”

“She is fun,” Octavia agreed.

“Stop. You know her?”

“Not like know-know, but we’ve hung out.” Octavia shrugged and sipped her wine. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you run into everyone eventually.”

“God, your life is cool.”

“It used to be.” Octavia sighed.

Joni refilled Octavia’s glass of Pineau d’Aunis, another quirky little bottle from Joni’s favorite wine shop—Octavia was pleasantly surprised that the girl had interesting, sophisticated taste. They were spending the evening in Octavia’s hotel room, trying to figure out how to track Callum’s movements on the Isle so they could attempt to reopen the portal they saw on the Lower East Side.

“It still seems simplest to me that you should just go to the Isle and tell Callum where to meet me,” Octavia said.

“Yeah, except for the part where Tess has been there for days and we have no idea if she’s dead or alive,” Joni countered. “I mean, I’m sure she’s fine, right? She has to be fine.”

“There’s an easy way to find out for sure,” Octavia needled.

“No—you tried that plan, now we’re doing mine. We’re finding August Lirio,” Joni insisted. “They have to know what’s happening on the Isle—how else could they write about it?”

“I don’t see why the person who spends their career lying about my brother and me should want to help, but we can try.” Octavia sniffed. “I suppose we’ll start with their literary agent? They’ll have Lirio’s address on file.”

Octavia googled “John Betherton,” but the results were page after page of articles and fan posts about Blood Feud.

“Let me do the internet, please.” Joni held out her hand, and Octavia grudgingly gave her the laptop. “Just gotta log in to the Columbia library search engine, and—okay, here we go. John Betherton is the founder of and only agent at the Betherton Agency. Now we just do a search of recent hits, and…hey, this actually looks promising! He’s on the host committee of some foundation that’s having a gala fundraiser this weekend at the Met. He’ll probably be there.”

“Well, that’s two pieces of good news.” Octavia grinned.

“Two?” Joni looked puzzled.

“One: We can make some progress toward helping my brother. And two: I get to wear a proper dress.”

Joni didn’t know why she was so nervous about some stupid gala. Yes, okay, she was still mildly traumatized about the time she’d attended her rich cousin’s black-tie wedding and knocked over an entire tray of champagne, which made the loudest clanging sound anyone had ever heard and soaked her most obnoxious aunt, who’d never let her live it down and still said, “Have you got a firm grip on that?” to this day anytime she saw Joni holding a drink. Joni was fairly certain if she did anything even a fraction that embarrassing in front of Octavia, she would die on the spot.

Of course, just existing in front of Octavia was embarrassing. She was so languid and cool, so totally chic and put-together—well, except for those seconds after they saw the flash of blue light when she lost her shit slightly, which was actually kind of reassuring from Joni’s perspective. There was still something human inside that tough (ridiculously attractive) glamazon exterior.

Joni knew she had a lot to focus on in her academic life: She needed to finish her dissertation, prepare for—and subsequently crush—her interview for the job she desperately wanted as an assistant professor at Columbia, not to mention apply for a whole host of backup jobs in case the Columbia thing didn’t work out. But whenever she tried to focus on any of that, she always found her thoughts drifting back to Octavia. Which was understandable—how often did you meet an unbelievably beautiful vampire who needed your help with a quest where your ex–best friend’s life potentially hung in the balance?

Even so, none of that felt like the real reason Joni was so nervous when she arrived at Octavia’s hotel room at six p.m. Saturday night and knocked on her door.

“Good, at least you’re on time.” Octavia exhaled as she opened the door to let Joni in. She was already dressed in a black column gown with glittering crystal-studded ties at the back, her hair pinned up in a chignon, her lips painted vivid red.