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Vampyres don't exist. They absolutely do not exist. At least I
didn't think they did 'til I tried to quit smoking and ended up
Undead. Who in the hell did I screw over in a former life that my
getting healthy equates with dead? Now I'm a Vampyre. Yes, we exist
whether we want to or not. However, I have to admit, the perks
aren't bad. My girls no longer jiggle, my ass is higher than a kite
and the latest Prada keeps finding its way to my wardrobe. On the
downside, I'm stuck with an obscenely profane Guardian Angel who
looks like Oprah and a Fairy Fighting Coach who's teaching me to
annihilate like the Terminator. To complicate matters, my libido
has increased to Vampyric proportions and my attraction to a hotter
than Satan's underpants killer rogue Vampyre is not only dangerous
. . . it's possibly deadly. For real dead. Permanent death isn't on
my agenda. Avoiding him is my only option. Of course, since he
thinks I'm his, it's easier said than done. Like THAT'S not enough
to deal with, all the other Vampyres think I'm some sort of Chosen
One. Holy Hell, if I'm in charge of saving an entire race of blood
suckers, the Undead are in for one hell of a ride. *****
"Uproariously witty, deliciously provocative, and just plain fun No
one delivers side-splitting humor and mouth-watering sensuality
like Robyn Peterman. This is entertainment at its absolute finest "
Darynda Jones, NY Times Bestselling Author of the Charley Davidson
Series
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