What’s the Devil to do when his fire no longer burns away his sins and Fate is screwing with his… well, fate? Easy—lie, cheat, steal and dictate my questionably accurate autobiography slash romance novel to my unwilling and outstandingly rude Vampyre niece.
Welcome to my Hell.
A mysterious darkness is gunning for me and this time it might prevail, but I have little time to worry about that. Instead of seeking it out, I shall simply go about business as usual. If it’s fated, it will find me.
There is no fated happily ever after for the Prince of Darkness, no matter what ridiculous ending my niece slaps onto my autobiography.
Or is there?
Fate is a bitch, but she usually gets it right.
I have to trap the most evil, worst bad dude in existence without actually turning him to ash. So, what’s a Vampyre to do? For starters, enter an undead beauty pageant—in Oklahoma—where the hair is jacked and the contestants are busty and brainless.
My name is Venus. I’m a two-hundred-year old killing machine and I’m trading in my daggers and sword for a sparkly dress and an obscene swim suit.
Armed with a fairly decent attitude, two debatably heterosexual insane old ladies, a woman I’d wanted to kill less than eight hours ago and the possible love of my undead life, I’m in over my head with this. Of course I have no clue what this is going to entail, but that’s never stopped me before.
And the winner is...
Why do I have to have my tail in a knot for the one hot, sexy Werewolf who can’t seem to keep his Johnson in his pants?
I’m a nice girl—really I am. I’m just a typical computer-hacking, knife-throwing, Star Trek-obsessed, overeducated Werewolf nerd who can’t seem to get her love life to compute.
However, it’s time to grow up and face the music or more accurately the man I’m in love with… Junior aka Jacob Wilson—the Alpha of the Georgia Pack. First I’ll have to stand up to some nasty gals who’s pants are so tight I can see their religion. Then I'll claim my man.
What should be an easy feat, gets sucktastic when you throw in a three hundred year old fabulous gay Vampyre, an antiquated motherboard from the 90’s and a challenge from the vicious, deadly Alabama Pack. Not to mention a libido
SNEAK PEEK of MAGICALLY DELICIOUS!!!!! WOOOHOOOOO!
What does a hungry, pregnant witch do when her whole freaking town goes on a no carb diet?
I’ll tell you what. She goes on the sly and conjures up some anchovy-chocolate chunk cookies dipped in hot sauce—that’s what.
Of course my cheating gets complicated when all of the magic in the world goes on the fritz. To solve that particular wrinkle, I’ll have to finally find the source of the lurking evil.
Easier said than done. Maybe if I wasn’t pregnant and starving, I could deal with the nasty old witch who resides in a gingerbread house. Add in carb eating fairies who speak French and three rotund familiars who enjoy defacing property with profane graffiti, and what you get is almost more trouble than I can handle in my baby baking condition.
I’m still not convinced I won’t be giving birth
Released from the magic pokey and paroled with limited power is enough to make any witch grumpy. However, if you throw in a recently resurrected cat, a lime-green Kia and a sexy egotistical werewolf, it's enough to make a gal fly off the edge.
Not to mention a mission...with no freaking directions.
So here I sit in Asscrack, West Virginia trying to figure out how to complete my mysterious mission before All Hallows Eve when I’ll get turned into a mortal. The animals in the area are convinced I'm the Shifter Whisperer (whatever the hell that is) and the hotter-than- asphalt-in-August werewolf thinks I'm his mate. Now apparently I'm slated to save a bunch of hairy freaks of nature?
If they think I'm the right witch for the job, they've swallowed some bad brew.