If you haven't read the Johannes Cabal books yet, go do so now.

The marble bust of Lord Humphrey Hieronymus glared balefully, the effect emphasised by the raw gash where its nose should have been. The protuberance in question had just been knocked off as Cabal used the bust to stun an oncoming and distinctly undead butler. His lordship's collection of necromantic manuscripts was better-defended than even Cabal had been prepared for, with that mix of genius and lunacy peculiar to the British aristocracy.

As a groan heralded the arrival of a zombie valet, Cabal sighed - he generally preferred his forbidden necromantic tomes free of decaying brains - and hoisted the bust once again.