Showing results by author "Robyn Peterman" in All Categories

Whoever said life begins at forty must have been heavily medicated, drunk, or delusional. Three funerals without the deceased present? Crisis. One wedding run by drag queens with questionable taste in music? Semi-crisis, but doable. Dead showing up on my porch who have already crossed over? This is what forty looks like for me. But now I have an even bigger problem. The Higher Power wants my daughter. It’s not happening. Period.

Just when I think everything is calming down, it ramps back up to eleven. On what should be one of the happiest and most romantic days of my life, the unthinkable happens. The ghosts I’d so kindly guided into the Light showed up on my front porch, including my dead husband. Something or someone is messing with the balance and if it’s not remedied, the Darkness will destroy the world.

I just lived through a dream state mash-up of The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland and Survivor. You’d think I’d catch a break. You would be incorrect. After successfully evicting my mortal enemy—now frenemy—who was squatting in my head, and making friends with fanged munchkins who bare uncanny resemblances to Hollywood A-listers, I now have a new enemy—a really powerful and vengeful enemy.

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.

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.

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?

Mermaids. Check. Pirates, werewolves, genies, and a drunken sea god. Check. Check. Check. Check. Come on an adventure with my mermaids and their unlikely heroes. Get three hilarious stories all in one big audiobook!

Running a tourist trap for humans in the Bermuda Triangle had sounded like a fine plan - until it wasn’t. With the Sea Hags gunning for our island and ruining our questionably successful business, I did what any desperate Mermaid would do. I called for backup. Of course, getting help from the Otherworld Defense Agency is risky as they don’t usually deal with ocean creatures. Whatever. Desperate times call for crappy measures. Chances are they’ll send freaking Pirates. I hate Pirates.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The rich bloodsuckers don’t want to pay taxes. Too bad, so sad. They’re the least of my problems right now. At the wise suggestion of my beloved mate, I indulge in a little retail therapy so I don’t dismember the pissed-off crew of greedy Vamps who don’t want to pay their fair share. How could a trip to the happiest place on earth a.k.a. Target go wrong? Let me count the ways....

What do you get when you combine a three-headed monster named Charles; a rotund, gay, dancing Demon named Doug; a culinary disaster baked by Mother Nature; a celibate premarital councilor named Jeff; an offer from Satan that's impossible to refuse; and Steve Perry? You get the royal wedding from hell - or, to be more accurate, possibly in hell. All I want to do is marry the Vampyre of my dreams, with my closest friends and family in attendance. Yep, I know nuptials in the undead world are unheard of, but I'm still hanging on to my humanity if only by a thread.

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.

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.

What's the Devil to do when his fire no longer burns away his sins and Fate is screwing with his...well, fate? Easy - lie, cheat, steal, and dictate my questionably accurate autobiography-slash-romance-novel to my unwilling and outstandingly rude Vampyre niece. Welcome to my Hell. A mysterious darkness is gunning for me and this time it might prevail. Traveling to Earth to promote my best-selling romance novel at an alarming book convention where I must protect my privates from the rabid lady readers is enough to frighten even the Devil.

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.