Robyn Peterman

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

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.....

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....

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

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....

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 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 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....

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....

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....

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....

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....

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....

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

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....

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....

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....

This is simply not my week. Finding out I can’t cook is appalling. My luncheon with the big-boned Immortal socialites went to Hell in a handbasket. I’ve been hoping to join the Fearsome Five and make it the Psycho Six....

With a show to produce and my career as an actress on the line, I really don’t have time to die—especially violently. However, while that might not be on my agenda, it seems to be on other’s....