Robyn Peterman

My name is Dima and I'm a Dragon. I'm also going to die soon. It's a battle I've waged most of my life, but now the odds are looking crappy. Before I go up flames, I have to find a way to save my hoard and make sure my secret treasure is safe. There is one way I could stick around a bit longer, but the men I've met aren't exactly lining up to save me. What in hell does a Dragon Princess have to do to find a mate? Offing my father, the reviled Dragon King, would be one way to go. He has a penchant for eliminating any male who shows interest-not to mention he's been trying to kill me for almost 500 years. So my brilliant plan is to take out my father in a blaze of glory-pun intended. However, I have to suck it up and do some stuff I don't want to do. For example, getting along with Dragons who don't trust me is a horrific challenge even though we share the same goal. That's why I aligned myself with the rag tag pack of shifters who accepted me and my secret treasure unconditionally. They're my friends now and I'm keeping them. I'll fry anyone who dares to speak against my Werewolves, Werecows and the fabulous gay Vampyre named Dwayne. Unfortunately the Weres who love me don't have the kind of fire power I need to take out my father. To get that I have allied myself with a dangerous Dragon weyr known as The Resistance. Staying away from the sexy, pompous, fire-breathing, blow hard of a leader is turning out to be a full time job. And no... he's not even in the running for the mate. Mutual incineration would be inevitable. You see... Dragons aren't the easiest of the Were species to get along with. You can dress us up and take us out, but at the end of the day we're still the idiots who like a little friendly blood shed and sex-make that lots of sex. My life keeps getting more and more complicated, but I've run out of options. I'm about to run out of time too. I'm learning there's no where to run and no where to hide from destiny.

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.

Planning my own wedding should mean I'm having the time of my life...not defending it every time I turn around. Dragons, feral Wolves and Were Cows...I mean who in the hell knew Were Cows even existed? All I wanna do is marry Hank, have 2.5 beautiful little Werewolf babies and live happily ever after while having sex on a very regular basis. Oh...and I still want to shoot stuff occasionally. Apparently no one got the memo. Instead of complaining about the price of flowers, cakes and the fact that my gay Vampyre BFF, Dwayne insists on wearing a dress at my nuptials, I'm locked and loaded trying to ascertain who wants my ass six feet under. With Hank at my side and some surprising allies at our disposal, we will take on the bad dudes...one bloody clusterhump of a sucktastic battle at a time. No one ever said the Werewolf life was going to be easy, but this week we couldn't catch a break if it bit us in the ass...

I never planned on going back to Hung Island, Georgia. Ever. I was a top notch Were agent for the secret paranormal Council and happily living in Chicago where I had everything I needed - a gym membership, season tickets to the Cubs and Dwayne - my gay, Vampyre best friend. Going back now would mean facing the reason I'd left and I'd rather chew my own paw off than deal with Hank. Hank the Tank Wilson was the six foot three, obnoxious, egotistical, perfect-assed, best-sex-of-my-life, Werewolf who cheated on me and broke my heart. At the time, I did what any rational woman would do. I left in the middle of the night with a suitcase, big plans and enough money for a one-way bus ticket to freedom. I vowed to never return. But here I am, trying to wrap my head around what has happened to some missing Weres without wrapping my body around Hank. I hope I don't have to eat my words and my paw.

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.

"Outrageous, profane, hilarious, sexy and all kinds of wacky!" --Michelle Rowen, national bestselling authorWhen you get time off for bad behavior, romance is the last thing on your mind--but good old-fashioned lust is a whole different story. . .Life undercover isn't exactly one big party--not when you're a DEA agent--but it sure beats a desk job. Except when you screw up big and someone has to go in and clean up after you. In that case, even paper-pushing sounds better than babysitting an erotic romance writer with as many enemies as there are euphemisms for "throbbing manhood."I've been taking down drug dealers for so long, playing bodyguard to a woman named Shoshanna Lehump sounds like nothing more than a giant pain in my ass-- and being partnered with the gorgeous egotistical jerk I never should have slept with in the first place just makes a bad situation even harder--especially when he pursues me as diligently as we're supposed to be chasing the bad guys...What's a girl have to do to get a happy ending anyway? "For a good time, read Robyn Peterman!" --Michelle Rowen, national bestselling author"A zany over-the-top rompfest." --Lexi George, author of "Demon Hunting in a Dive Bar""

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. ***** "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

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

"For a good time, read Robyn Peterman!" -Michelle Rowen, national bestselling authorA few hard truths...Don't bet on Hasselhoff, Bigfoot might actually exist, and searching for the impossible may lead you to your heart's desire... It's a big fat hairy deal when I lose yet another bet to my best friend, Rena. Not only do I end up attending Bigfoot meetings with her kooky Aunt Phyllis, I find myself traveling with a band of reality TV, Sasquatch-hunting nut-jobs! Not to mention a suspiciously shady film crew. As if those little nuggets weren't enough to send me on the express-train to Crazytown...I stupidly swore off men! Clearly all this would mess up any gal's social life, but the worst part of the story? The minute I send my libido on vacation, I meet Mitch. Yep, Mitch, the sexiest cop ev-ah. The hottest, best kissing, finest tushied, SINGLE guy I've ever laid eyes on. I'd rather be hot on his trail than anything that involves the word Big or Foot. But sometimes what you're hunting for has been right in front of you all along ..."A zany over-the-top rompfest." -Lexi George on "How Hard Can It Be?""

"For a good time, read Robyn Peterman!"--Michelle Rowen, national bestselling author"A zany over-the-top rompfest."""--Lexi George, author of "Demon Hunting in a Dive Bar"What happens when an accountant decides to grab life by the horns and try something new? Apparently a pirate named Dave, a lot of pastel fleece, and blackmail-just to start with...Visualize and succeed, Oprah said. I was sure as hell trying, even if my campaign to score a job as the local weather girl had ended in a restraining order. Okay, TV was not my strength. But a lack of talent has never stopped me before. Which is why I've embarked on a writing career. I mean, hard can it be to come up with a sexy romance?