Fashionably Fanged — Robyn Peterman

I have to trap the most evil, worst bad dude in existence without actually turning him to ash. So, what's a Vampyre to do? For starters, enter an undead beauty pageant -- in Oklahoma -- where the hair is jacked and the contestants are busty and brainless.   My name is Venus. I'm a two-hundred-year old killing machine and I'm trading in my daggers and sword for a sparkly dress and an obscene swim suit. Tiny strips of Lycra are not my typical battle wear, but when in Oklahoma…   Armed with a fairly decent attitude, two debatably heterosexual insane old ladies, a woman I'd wanted to kill less than eight hours ago and the possible love of my undead life, I'm in over my head with this. Of course I have no clue what this is going to entail, but that's never stopped me before.   I'm learning quickly nothing is as it seems -- not my past and least of all my future. With the not-so-angelic Angels watching our every move and more butt glue, lipstick and hairspray than I knew existed, I'm gonna take my fate by the balls and twist. Hard.   In a race with death for the cursed life of the man I'm falling in love with, there's no room for error. Especially when I can't decide if I'd rather head butt him or jump his sexy bones.   Mixed up in a tangled trap of spotlights, sequins and seduction, I'm gunning for a crown and my happily ever after with the arrogant alpha-hole who makes me feel alive.   And the winner is… Hopefully me.