Mix one part Mermaid—one part Genie. Throw in an intoxicated God of the Sea and and a few smack-talking Pirates. What have you got?Pandemonium.Petunia's Pandemonium to be more accurate.PetuniaLetting the ocean current take me where it may for the last twenty-five years hasn't worked out so great. So, instead of getting my tail in a knot, I'm making some swimmingly simple changes.—Stay on Mystical Isle with my cousins who love me.—Avenge my parents and eliminate the sea monster who's wreaking havoc.—Forget about the gorgeous, no-good Genie who left me at the altar… so to speak.—Stay away from Genies until the end of time.—Join Poseidon's embarrassingly named online dating service for Immortals and get back into the game.What could go wrong?DelI'm a Genie in...

Released from the magic pokey and paroled with limited power is enough to make any witch grumpy. However, if you throw in a recently resurrected cat, a lime-green Kia and a sexy egotistical werewolf, it's enough to make a gal fly off the edge. Not to mention a mission...with no freaking directions. So here I sit in Asscrack, West Virginia trying to figure out how to complete my mysterious mission before All Hallows Eve when I’ll get turned into a mortal. 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. Now apparently I'm slated to save a bunch of hairy freaks of nature? If they think I'm the right witch for the job, they've swallowed some bad brew.  Keywords: demons and devils, witches, wizards, warlocks, vampires, bear shifters, werewolf, paranormal romance, romantic comedy

I need a new freakin' job.It's not what you think. 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. As luck would have it, 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?With my hunky mate, insane Granny and flamboyant Dwayne by my side, we have no choice but to succeed. If we don't, the reveal of our existence to the human world is imminent.We are Shifters. Werewolves. WTF.  Shift Happens all the time. But this time, we're making sure only good shift goes down.

Planning my own wedding should mean I’m having the time of my life…not defending it every time I turn around. Dragons, feral Wolves and Were Cows…I mean who in the hell knew Were Cows even existed? All I wanna do is marry Hank, have 2.5 beautiful little Werewolf babies and live happily ever after while having sex on a very regular basis. Oh…and I still want to shoot stuff occasionally. Apparently no one got the memo. Instead of complaining about the price of flowers, cakes and the fact that my gay Vampyre BFF, Dwayne insists on wearing a dress at my nuptials, I’m locked and loaded trying to ascertain who wants my ass six feet under. With Hank at my side and some surprising allies at our disposal, we will take on the bad dudes…one bloody clusterhump of a sucktastic battle at a time. No one ever said the Werewolf life was going to be easy, but this week we couldn’t catch a break if it bit us in the ass…

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 only have seven minutes and thirty-one seconds. You’re welcome. Parenting books are useless if you're not human. If your child is half Vampyre/ half Demon I would suggest not using parenting books at all--they can backfire like a mother humper. Trust me on this. Have sex. When your child tells you he has an imaginary friend, do not discount this as fantasy. Often times your child isn't imagining anything. If he persists with alarming and violent stories about this fictional buddy it's probably a Troll. Do a thorough search of your home and kill it. Decapitation works best. Some imaginary friends are harmless. However, it's wise not to take chances. Have sex again. When in large crowds, make sure you hold tight to your child's hand. Losing a child in an amusement park is terrifying. If you're truly paranoid a parent could consider putting a chip in their child. If you do this don't discuss it at dinner parties. People will think you are weird.  At least cuddle. Playing with dolls is fun. Being one? No so much. If your child ever finds a Genie in a bottle, flush it immediately. Many children wish for things that are very difficult to reverse...like being doll sized. If this happens, move to Oz. There are many people of small stature there. And yes, it really does exist. Find a closet and go to town.

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. On the downside, I’m stuck with an obscenely profane Guardian Angel who looks like Oprah and a Fairy Fighting Coach who’s teaching me to annihilate like the Terminator. To complicate matters, my libido has increased to Vampyric proportions and my attraction to a hotter than Satan’s underpants killer rogue Vampyre is not only dangerous . . . it’s possibly deadly. For real dead. Permanent death isn’t on my agenda. Avoiding him is my only option. Of course, since he thinks I’m his, it’s easier said than done. Like THAT’S not enough to deal with, all the other Vampyres think I’m some sort of Chosen One. Holy Hell, if I’m in charge of saving an entire race of blood suckers, the Undead are in for one hell of a ride.