Ever been almost-beheaded by a snow-plow? Turned into an undead by a homeless vampire? Cheated and betrayed by your lying sack of s**t husband? Welcome to my life… or, more correctly, my crazy after-life.
To everyone behind the gates of our wealthy community in Charming, Mississippi, my husband and I were the Joneses everyone tried to keep up with. A beautiful house, the perfect gated community, two gorgeous kids, and a supposedly flawless marriage.
Until I came home and caught him rolling around in our bed, hip-deep in my best friend.
Which led to the aforementioned snow plow incident. I woke up with a fear of the sun and a propensity for drinking blood. Or in laymen’s terms, a vampire.
I thought vampires were supposed to be hot and irresistible. But my Maker smells like he just stepped out of a sewer and he has the appeal of a turd in a punch bowl.
But you know how life is as one of the Joneses...gotta keep up. Keep up appearances, that is.
I’ve swapped my Triple, Venti, Sugar-Free, Non-Fat Caramel Macchiato for a stainless steel rambler that keeps my O-Negative at the perfect room temperature. I can still manage the carpool lane, with the right sunglasses to hide my crazy eyes. But between daytime soccer games, a missing college student who might have been a vampire kill, trying not to drain my soon-to-be-ex-husband, and keeping my neighbors in the dark, I’m shaking in my Jimmy Choos. I'm not sure I can do this.
My name is Rachel Jones, and I’m the vampire housewife.
