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

Fashionably Dead: Book One of the Hot Damned Series

Romance

Peterman, Robyn

Paranormal

Robyn\Peterman

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.

Hell on Heels: Book Three The Hot Damned Series

Contemporary

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. ***This novella originally appeared in the Three Southern Beaches collection released July of 2014. This is an extended version of that story.

Ready To Were: Shift Happens Series Book One

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 only have seven minutes and thirty-one seconds. You’re welcome. ~Parenting books are useless if you're not human. If your child is half Vampyre/ half Demon I would suggest not using parenting books at all--they can backfire like a mother humper. Trust me on this. ~Have sex. ~When your child tells you he has an imaginary friend, do not discount this as fantasy. Often times your child isn't imagining anything. If he persists with alarming and violent stories about this fictional buddy it's probably a Troll. Do a thorough search of your home and kill it. Decapitation works best. Some imaginary friends are harmless. However, it's wise not to take chances. ~Have sex again. ~When in large crowds, make sure you hold tight to your child's hand. Losing a child in an amusement park is terrifying. If you're truly paranoid a parent could consider putting a chip in their child. If you do this don't discuss it at dinner parties. People will think you are weird. ~At least cuddle. ~Playing with dolls is fun. Being one? No so much. If your child ever finds a Genie in a bottle, flush it immediately. Many children wish for things that are very difficult to reverse...like being doll sized. If this happens, move to Oz. There are many people of small stature there. And yes, it really does exist. ~Find a closet and go to town.

Fashionably Dead in Diapers: Hot Damned Series, Book 4

Literature & Fiction

Literary

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.

Switching Hour: Magic and Mayhem Book One

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…

Some Were in Time: Shift Happens Book 2

Witches and glitches and testicle obsessed cats… Oh my. One dilemma down and approximately 74,876,283 to go. I think being the Shifter Whisperer is hard—or Shifter Wanker as I enjoy referring to my new job—but healing wounded Shifters is easy compared to finding and eliminating the lurking freaking evil. Throw in a ghost, a potentially explosive ex-cellmate, a long lost dad and a smokin’ hot werewolf who’s convinced he’s my mate, and suddenly it’s party time—from hell. And this is my mission? Life is getting messy and I don’t do messy. With feelings I didn’t know I was capable of having, and the word love being thrown around like a football on Super Bowl Sunday, poofing away with a magical twitch of my nose is becoming more appealing by the moment. But to show I’m not a weenie, I’m gonna pull up my big girl panties and hurl some fireballs at Baba Yaga's older than dirt warlock posse if they don’t pony up the info I need. If I don’t burn the town of Assjacket down while trying to save it, I’m donning my red cape and playing who’s the big bad wolf with a for real wolf who’s hotter than any fireball. I just pray to the Goddess my heart doesn’t get burned in the process…

Witch Glitch: Magic and Mayhem Book Two

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Books by Robyn\Peterman