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If the town of Spookhaven was, for me, typified by a good-natured, family-oriented, small town atmosphere, then Coffinwax was marked by a keen sense of competition. From vendors with their wheeled carts competing with industrious (and often homeless) street urchins for room to peddle their wares, to a kind of red-light district turf war between rival nightclubs, Coffinwax is a place where doing business means doing battle, and not always metaphorically.

In a burlesque house in the somewhat seedy district of Grayfriar's Close, I met a dancer who was refreshingly free of cutthroat ambition. Her name was Tess, and a lovelier werewolf you will never meet. Her dreams consisted of dancing for as long as her body was able, and to one day own her own home. As I often say, there are as many similarities between us and the inhabitants of The Autumnlands as there are differences.