For starters, it’s a good thing that I decided to be child-free because this story would have killed any lingering motherhood ambitions. But more on that later.

I am impressed by Terry Miller's Den of the Wererats. Werewolves have been done to death and the ideas of werefoxes and werepanthers are a weaker replacement. I’d never even considered the idea of shapeshifters assuming the visage of those bitey basement-dwelling SOBS, rats.

Even though this tale is a short novella, Miller fills every single moment with nonstop action, some nightmarish scenes, and a fun twist ending. This is one of those rare occasions where I leave the story feeling satisfied and not wanting more.

We jump right into the thick of the story where our heroine, Kelly Tate is jumped in an alleyway and wakes up with a hankering for a hunk of cheese.

Her former assailants now partners in crime are Jonathan and Paul who begin to induct her into their dark little world. I have to say the banter between these three is my favorite part of this book. It flows naturally and adds some much-needed bits of humor to the plot.

The threesome quickly becomes a foursome with the addition of Devin, a pizza delivery guy that Kelly is encouraged to turn into one of their beady-eyed brethren.

But it’s not all champagne wishes and cheddar dreams, as Kelly discovers her only purpose is to breed new litters of future cellar dwellers.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you all, but if you have ovaries, you will be traumatized and grasping for the nearest mode of birth control.

Despite my warnings, Den of the Wererats is still a top-notch read that will keep you up at night. Don’t miss this one.