Showing results by author "Robyn Peterman" in All Categories

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, how hard can it be to come up with a sexy romance?

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.

A movie deal for the devil's autobiography slash romance? Priceless. Maybe I should choose George Clooney to play me in the movie.... No. Too gray. As much as I can't see anyone playing me but me, I have far more important issues on my agenda - like finding the woman who stole my soul. Well, not exactly stole.... I might have made the switch and taken hers, but the siren Elle Rinoa has my soul nonetheless. Maybe Brad Pitt would be a good Lucifer.... No. Too blond.

Going to Hell has never been on my bucket list...until now. The fact that I can speak that sentence without laughing or losing my mind is absurd. However, my life has veered into a very tricky tale that rivals any of my books. The villain has been banished. I’ve written her right into an infernal doom. Unfortunately, a few of my very dear friends, fictional and real, have been caught up in the horror story, and they’ve taken the trip down under as well. It’s my fault, and I can only see one way out...a plot twist of epic proportions.

I’m desperate to resign from the Werewolf Treaty Federation aka WTF. Don’t judge. I didn’t name this crew of misfit Shifters so hear me out. After investigating a deadly Jazz Cabbage outbreak, I discover we need a necromancing demon to help solve the crime. My gay vampyre BFF, Dwayne, dated one of these gems several decades ago. Seems all we need to do is summon his evil butt into this plane of existence and poof, crisis solved. The question is, can we bring him back without causing a flesh-eating, end-of-the-world zombie apocalypse?

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.

Sun and naughty fun is off the docket. Eliminating deadly Dhampirs is at the top of the to-do list. Crap. How in the ever-loving heck does a bloody note written on a paper towel and rag magazines left by Satan turn into a Vamp-hunt for idiots who think creating Dhampirs to attain world domination is a smooth move? The secret life of the entire Vampyre species is now on the line.

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.

The love of my dastardly immortal life is eating everything that isn't nailed down and tried to behead me over a chocolate croissant. While I take chocolate croissants very seriously, I do believe decapitation is somewhat harsh. My daughters, the Seven Deadly Sins, are driving me to drink. Getting them mated off and the hell out of Hell is at the top on my agenda. The one thing that is keeping me sane - sane being a relative word - is my upcoming special day.

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.

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.

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....

Not sure who I screwed over in a past life to end up with a heinous mother-in-law who thinks my wedding is for her. If I didn’t love Chance more than myself, I’d rethink the entire hot mess. Problem: I’ve been instructed to show up in Hell on my wedding day with six bridesmaids. I have two friends in total. Problem solved: Go to a supernatural plasticware party at the community center and blackmail a few gals into being bridesmaids. New problem: The gals I coerced bring their own brand of crazy to the party. Whatever. Chance is the demon of my dreams. He loves me, fur and all.

Midlife is sheer madness, and the facts of midlife are not taught in school. Unfortunately, some lessons are hellishly hard to learn. I thought I had it figured out. I was wrong. Proving I’m the Angel of Mercy is turning into a shitshow of epic proportions. Not too long ago, I was a 40-year-old gal with a stable and boring life ahead of me. Now? Not so much. I have celestial siblings who are no walk in the park. Their decisions can destroy my future. And of course, my predecessor has given me a month to do the impossible or I’ll lose everything that means anything to me.

Recently, I was given my own sitcom and my forties were looking fabulous. My dreams were finally coming true—were being the operative word. Of course, just when I think I might have a grip on my newly discovered Demon status, it all goes to Hell. Literally. I’ve gone from enemies-to-lovers back to enemies with the hottest Demon alive, who also happens to be the producer on my show. What I’d like to do is never see Abaddon’s stupidly handsome face again.

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 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.

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.

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.

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!