Robyn Peterman

Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. One year later, dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed-and-breakfast....

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....

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....

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....

And I thought being half Vampyre/half Demon was hard.... That's nothing compared to being a mother....

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....

Midlife is sheer madness, and the facts of midlife are not taught in school. Unfortunately, some lessons are hellishly hard to learn....

Just when I thought life might be getting back to normal—normal being a relative word—I couldn’t have been more wrong....

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....

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....

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....

With a new job I didn’t apply for and an extended family I didn’t know I had - midlife has become somewhat problematic. Gluing ghosts back together is easy compared to my new celestial occupation....

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....

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 did not order the extra slice of Armageddon to go with my midlife crisis. Apparently, if you’re an Immortal, it comes free of charge. I have until sundown tomorrow to get to a parallel plane of existence, save my family, and kick bad-guy butt all before the world ends....

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.....

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....

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....

What does a frustrated Vampyre do when the woman he's chased for 200 years is still trying to get away? He plays dirty, that's what....

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.