In a town where ghosts have punchlines and demons file complaints, Brother Ned's accidental sainthood might be the apocalypse's biggest punchline yet. Welcome to Gravehollow, where the living tread carefully and the dead have developed an inappropriately wicked sense of humor. When chronically anxious Brother Ned is banished to this perpetually twilit city after burning down his monastery's kitchen, he expects a quiet penance. Instead, he's mistaken for a divine emissary prophesied to end the city's supernatural nightmare-a role he's catastrophically unqualified to fill. Armed with a dyslexia that transforms holy texts into sarcastic commentary, a rusted compass that points everywhere except where he needs to go, and an impressive talent for turning spiritual interventions into spectacular disasters, Ned reluctantly assembles the most questionable team of supernatural problem-solvers ever: Morianna, a sharp-tongued necromancer who treats the apocalypse like a research opportunity; Jonas, a blind monster hunter who senses danger everywhere except where it actually is; and Ash Fidget, an immortal phoenix whose anxiety-induced combustions have terrible timing but excellent comedic value. As Ned stumbles through haunted crypts and bureaucratic exorcisms, he discovers that Gravehollow's twilight curse is tied to mysterious artifacts called Dusk Stones-and that corporate-speaking cult leader Max Brightburn plans to use them for a "spiritual optimization" that will plunge the world into eternal darkness (with excellent profit margins). When accidental miracles keep reinforcing Ned's divine reputation, he must choose: confess his fraudulent sainthood or embrace the absurdity of being the wrong monk in the right place. Because in Gravehollow, sometimes the most powerful magic comes from perfectly timed incompetence. *GRAVEHOLLOW* delivers a wickedly irreverent supernatural comedy where eldritch horrors meet bureaucratic nightmares, spiritual warfare involves actual paperwork, and the line between heroism and catastrophe is measured in how many things accidentally catch fire. Perfect for readers who like their cosmic horror with a side of belly laughs and their religious satire served with a garnish of the grotesque.