Showing results by author "Robyn Peterman" in All Categories

Four months of wallowing in embarrassed depression should be enough. I’m beginning to realize that no one is who they seem to be, and my life story might be spinning out of my control. It’s time to take a shower, put on a bra, and wear something other than sweatpants. Difficult, but doable. With my friends - real and imaginary - by my side, I need to edit my life before the elusive darkness comes for all of us. 

Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. I was married to the man I loved. I had a body that worked without creaking. My grandma, who raised me, was still healthy, and life was pretty damned good. But as they say, all good things come to an end. One year later, I’m a widow. My joints are starting to ache. Gram is in the nursing home, and dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed-and-breakfast. Gluing body parts onto semi-transparent people has become a side job - deceased people I’m not even sure are actually there.

Never in my 40 years did I think my new normal would be gluing body parts back onto ghosts and hosting a houseful of dead squatters. Thank God for superglue and a strong stomach. Never thought I’d date the Grim Reaper and that I would be the one to blow it. I mean, how idiotic does one have to be to get dumped by a dude who lives in Hell? Going about business as usual is not usual in any way. No one is who they seem to be...and to be honest, neither am I. What I’d known to be true has turned out to be myth. The angels are frightening, and the demons are hot. 

With my life back to normal - normal being a very relative word - one would think I’d catch a break. One would be very wrong. With an angel gunning for me and a demon in my bed, life couldn’t be more complicated. Not to mention, I’m going to have to make a rather large life choice. Do I want to live forever? Does anyone? Forever is a very long time. Whatever. I’ll think about it tomorrow...or next week...or next month. As long as I have my girlfriends, my dogs, a super-sized case of merlot, and my deceased squatters, I’m good to go.

My grandmother has orchestrated a psycho body swap. I’m in Uncle Satan’s body, and he’s in mine. According to Mother Nature, we have one week to respect each other or we’re stuck in this out-of-body Hell for eternity. Satan’s thinks being a Vampyre sucks, and I’m horrified that Demons have use the bathroom for more than showering and brushing their teeth. Yuck. It gets worse.

The great news is that I found my sanity. It was laying next to my midlife crisis. The bad news… To be old and wise, one must first be young and stupid. I’m batting five hundred in stupid department at the moment. A wedding, a death and a kidnapping. That’s what I’m dealing with. The...

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.

I want to live my life in peace for a little while as opposed to pieces. I don’t know who I have to bribe to catch a break, but I’m willing to pay the big bucks. Apparently, no one got the memo. Midlife is one messy ride. Fine. I’m off to Lexington, Kentucky to find a self-proclaimed dragon who sports a mullet, beer belly and delusions of Immortal grandeur. This time he’s gone too far. He’s messed with me and mine for the last time. The way to end a dragon is to remove his tail. We thought we had. A tail is in the back. Right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

Being 40 is supposed to be freaking fabulous, not fatal. Taking on a daunting new job minus the description isn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made, even if it was to save a friend. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn out to be the stupidest...or deadliest. Why can’t things stay the way they were? I love my old job. Supergluing ghosts back together and solving their issues is its own reward. Not to mention, I’m seriously good at it. Although, I must say, I’m ridiculously excited for the new Death Counselor’s arrival in nine months....

One of these things is not like the others - life-threatening community theatre, wire hangers, chipmunks, tree-house sex-capades with a hot werewolf and head-shrinking with a porno-loving rabbit shifter. Actually none of these things are even remotely like the others, but it's my life and I'm going to make the pieces fit into a perfect puzzle - even if I have to shove it together and glue it with magic.

After a Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader moment, I discovered I do indeed have a father. He comes with a hell of a lot of baggage, but I’ve decided to keep him. Not only do I have a father, I have a kick-ass new sister, a ghostly family, and super powers to boot. If you add to the mix that I’m dating the Grim Reaper, it’s a freakin’ party. The only thing standing in the way of my happiness is the Angel of Mercy, though Angel of Misery is more appropriate. She’s responsible for almost everyone I have loved, and who has loved me, being taken away.

My name is Dixie. I'm a Demon - a lousy Demon. I'm a 21-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.

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.

With the darkness on the horizon, I need to clear my name and get to work. Forming a Goodness Army is on the top of the list. Shockingly, my army consists of my wacky-tabacky-smoking aunt, my high school counselor who can shift into a house cat, the town gossip who turns invisible after downing five beers, and a few fabulous others with nefarious talents. And of course, a cast of fictional characters...who I created and definitely have an opinion on how I should proceed.

Apparently, there’s no rest for the over-forty crowd. Yes, I have fabulous friends. Yes, I have a beautiful baby. Yes, the ghosts are coming back home.  Yes, I’m in love with the Grim Reaper. However, that sexy Demon has got some major ’splainin’ to do … like his possible involvement in the shocking kidnapping of my worst and most deadly enemy. With a drag queen and an ice queen as my back up, we’re going to sashay away into the Darkness to find the truth and turn a wrong into a right. Although, I’m learning fast that black and white are often clouded with shades of gray.

Mixing heaven and hell on my cousin's famous birthday seemed like such a brilliant idea. I wanted my baby's first Christmas to be special - memorable. I'd like to chalk my heinous idea up to having been falling-down drunk, but that won't fly, as it's insanely difficult for a Vampyre to tie one on. So instead I'll deal with obscene gifts from relatives, kidnapped rock stars, and catering by Mother Nature.

And I thought being half Vampyre/half Demon was hard.... That's nothing compared to being a mother. Sweet baby Moses in a boob tube, there aren't any books on raising True Immortals, so let me give you a few tips.... Make a map of every closet and bathroom in your home if you enjoy having sex. Sleep deprivation can cause confusion, and a map will help if you have only seven minutes and 31 seconds. You're welcome.

Welcome to my own personal hell. Name: Heathcliff. Occupation: Vampyre Warrior - one of the deadliest in the world. I plan. I fight. I win. Always. However, it's never taken me this damned long to get what I want before. Only I would be blessed with a Vampyre mate I'd have to chase for two centuries. The chemistry between us is steamy, and the sex is sizzling, but I want more - I want it all. Now, just as I'm finally wearing Raquel down, I find I have competition, not for my mate's hand but for her very existence.

I’ve been happily human for 30 years. Now I’m discovering I’m the reincarnated Fairy Queen of a land chock-full of freaks who want me dead. However, I’ll admit the perks are pretty cool. I have more magic in my little pinky than should be allowed by law in any universe. Not to mention, the love of my life is a Fairy so smokin’ hot, he makes Hell look like a Winter Wonderland. Problem is, my hotter-than-Hades Fairy is imprisoned in Zanthia for nefarious reasons I won’t go into, but now I must head back to that crap hole where I’m the Queen, and save the damn day.

My name is Venus. I'm a 200-year old killing machine and I'm trading in my daggers and sword for a sparkly dress and an obscene swimsuit. Tiny strips of Lycra are not my typical battle wear, but when in Oklahoma... 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.