Fashionably Dead
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.
*****
Fashionably Dead Down Under
Welcome to Hell.
Literally.
The Hell where the Prince of Darkness is hotter than Hades, Hell Hounds smell like brownies and the Seven Deadly Sins are addicted to Facebook… Not to mention the soundtrack in the Underworld is Journey. For real.
I should have known no good could come from offing my parents in the space of twenty minutes no matter how psychotic and evil they were…
Now I find out my family tree includes almost every deity and mythological being alive while Ethan, the one and only love of my undead life has a limited time down under before he turns to dust. In the land of Sin, you’d think I’d get some nookie time with my man, but no. Baby Demons, cousins and grandparents put the kibosh on that. Blue balls are the new normal. What the hell does a half-Vampyre Half-Demon have to do to catch a break?
Apparently find a freakin’ sword, calm Mother Nature’s unmedicated mood swings and make sure Mister Rogers keeps his sticky fingers to himself during weekly poker with the Devil.
And I have three days to do it.
By all that’s unholy, I thought Ethan’s Vampyre family was crazy…Trust me, they have nothing on the Demons.
*****
Hell on Heels
Where does a Demon go when she gets deported from Hell?
Kentucky. Eden, Kentucky to be more specific—where nothing is exactly as it seems.
My name is Dixie. I’m a Demon—a lousy Demon. I’m a twenty-one year old virgin and I have a battery operated boyfriend. My magic is iffy at best and downright dangerous at worst. Leaving Hell to represent my race is not high on my list of things to do.
Hell was exact. Hell was simple. All I want to do is get to home base with the hotter than Hades Demon of my dreams and work on my dark side so Satan, my dad, will get off my ass.
Instead I end up in Kentucky looking for the Balance of Chaos, avoiding pole dancing classes with Mother Nature and finding out my invisible friend is a silver skinned destructive weather pattern.
And if that isn’t craptastic enough, the damn Sword of Death is missing again and who ever has it wants the King of the Underworld dead. Seriously.
With new powers emerging daily, keeping my Demon side, horniness and general disgust under wraps doesn’t make it any easier to fit in with the humans. Thankfully my priorities are in line; get laid…save world…try not to blow up kitchen appliances…and get laid again. I was ready to rumble.
All I want to do is go back to Hell, but with the balance of good and evil in my hands, I’m stuck in the garden of Eden. Oh well, what the Hell. Someone has to save the world before there’s no world left to save. Might as well be me.
No comments yet.