Excerpt from Chapter 1
The glow of the bluish overhead light in the hotel elevator fell like soft velvet over the crumpled body of the man lying still on the floor. Blond hair streaked with blood, his face unrecognizable. Popping white lights from the camera of the forensic team flashed strobe-like effects over the bloody scene. Maggie Dolan couldn't recognize the face, but she could recognize that suit anywhere. It was her literary agent, John Rochard, very dead in designer tweed.
Maggie sashayed around the body in a painted-on black evening dress that hugged her curves tighter than a tangled rope wrapped around a bulldog in heat. Her keen vision picked up a small mark on Rochard’s neck. A tiny fleck of silver winked in the pool of blood around his head. Her eyes widened to show hazel colored irises framed by long black lashes. A rogue vamp wouldn’t have been so messy, she thought.
The murders, the evidence, and the ruined kid-suede Gucci stilettos -- it was all too damn much for her to contend with! And threatening to loom up like Stonehenge Tablets witnessing a sacrifice -- Sookie Kaplan, reigning Godmother of high society, had the power to whack her social status down to the level of inferior produce.
Maggie thought about everything that led up to that point. The predicament she was in, was her own fault. Standing tall in rhinestone trimmed, four-inch stilettos looking down at Rochard, she cursed herself. Had she not veered away from plotting out novels and attending high society lunches, the whole mess might not have happened.
It was her affinity for wanting to write true crime stories about murderers, arsonists, drug dealers and the garden-variety psychopath that started it all. She never planned on the sexy Detective Nash being hot on her trail or that a killer would end up stalking her. Not that it’s easy for one to murder the undead, but a stake through her heart would be well…ouch!
Synopsis
Lexy Anderson would rather die than date another control freak. Signing up with Anonymous Dates, Inc. to find the perfect guy, she finds charming, sophisticated Victor Capelli. A guy so hot most women would die to date him. Although a bit eccentric, Lexy thinks he’s sexy, and after all, in Las Vegas anything goes. Mesmerized by his dreamy hypnotic gaze and all they have in common, not to mention he’s an awesome dancer, she’s beginning to think he’s the guy of her dreams.
However, a passionate kiss leads to Victor biting Lexy on the neck. Before she can even say “ouch,” she finds herself in a hazy state of mind trying to kick her way out of a dirt-filled coffin. Not to mention she breaks the heel off her brand new pair of Manolos, which really bites. It’s not long before she realizes the guy she was dying to date just might have killed her—in an undead kind of way.
