Accidentally Dead, Again
Page 1
“Dakota never disappoints!”
—MaryJanice Davidson
PRAISE FOR
ACCIDENTALLY CATTY
“This light, comedic paranormal romance delivers simple, unencumbered entertainment. A lively pace, the bonds of friendship, and bright humor aided by vampiric sarcasm make for a breezy read with charming characters and no shortage of drama. Cassidy’s fans are sure to enjoy this, while newcomers will be reminded of MaryJanice Davidson’s or Kimberly Frost’s work.”
—Monsters and Critics
“I have been a fan of Dakota’s since The Accidental Werewolf, book one of this series. I loved all of the books in the series, but I think this book is my favorite … Accidentally Catty is very funny, cute, and sexy.”
—Night Owl Romance
“A fun read with some meat to it that will have people looking at you wondering why you’re laughing if you’re out in public.”
—Fresh Fiction
ACCIDENTALLY DEMONIC
“The Accidental series by Ms. Cassidy gets better and better with each book. The snark, the HAWT, the characters, it’s all a winning combination.”
—Bitten by Books
“An outstanding paranormal romance … Dakota Cassidy delivers snappy dialogue, hot sex scenes, and secondary characters that are just too funny … Accidentally Demonic is a hold-your-sides, laugh-out-loud book. With vampires, werewolves, and demons running around, paranormal romance will never be the same.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Dakota Cassidy’s books make me laugh and laugh. They are such great fun that I always look forward to the next one with gusto … I totally loved this book with a capital ‘L.’”
—Fresh Fiction
THE ACCIDENTAL HUMAN
“I highly enjoyed every moment of Dakota Cassidy’s The Accidental Human … A paranormal romance with a strong dose of humor.”
—Errant Dreams
“A delightful, at times droll, contemporary tale starring a decidedly human heroine … Dakota Cassidy provides a fitting twisted ending to this amusingly warm urban romantic fantasy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The final member of Cassidy’s trio of decidedly offbeat friends faces her toughest challenge, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t humor to spare! With emotion, laughter, and some pathos, Cassidy serves up another winner!”
—RT Book Reviews
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD
“A laugh-out-loud follow-up to The Accidental Werewolf, and it’s a winner … Ms. Cassidy is an up-and-comer in the world of paranormal romance.”
—Fresh Fiction
“An enjoyable, humorous satire that takes a bite out of the vampire romance subgenre … Fans will appreciate the nonstop hilarity.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
THE ACCIDENTAL WEREWOLF
“Cassidy, a prolific author of erotica, has ventured into MaryJanice Davidson territory with a humorous, sexy tale.”
—Booklist
“If Bridget Jones became a lycanthrope, she might be Marty. Fun and flirty humor is cleverly interspersed with dramatic mystery and action. It’s hard to know which character to love best, though—Keegan or Muffin, the toy poodle that steals more than one scene.”
—The Eternal Night
“A riot! Marty’s internal dialogue will have you howling, and her antics will keep the laughs coming. If you love paranormal with a comedic twist, you’ll love this book.”
—Romance Junkies
“A lighthearted romp … [An] entertaining tale with an alpha twist.”
—Midwest Book Review
MORE PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF
DAKOTA CASSIDY
“The fictional equivalent of the little black dress—every reader should have one!”
—Michele Bardsley
“Serious, laugh-out-loud humor with heart, the kind of love story that leaves you rooting for the heroine, sighing for the hero, and looking for your own significant other at the same time.”
—Kate Douglas
“Expect great things from Cassidy.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Very fun, sexy. Five stars!”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Dakota Cassidy is going on my must-read list!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“If you’re looking for some steamy romance with something that will have you smiling, you have to read [Dakota Cassidy].”
—The Best Reviews
Berkley Sensation titles by Dakota Cassidy
YOU DROPPED A BLONDE ON ME
BURNING DOWN THE SPOUSE
WALTZ THIS WAY
KISS & HELL
MY WAY TO HELL
THE ACCIDENTAL WEREWOLF
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD
THE ACCIDENTAL HUMAN
ACCIDENTALLY DEMONIC
ACCIDENTALLY CATTY
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD, AGAIN
ACCIDENTALLY
DEAD, AGAIN
DAKOTA CASSIDY
BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2012 by Dakota Cassidy.
Cover illustration by Katie Wood.
Cover design by Diane Kolsky.
Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / June 2012
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Accidentally dead, again / Dakota Cassidy.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-101-58860-4
1. Vampires—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3603.A8685A663 2012
813’.6—dc23
2012003868
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
; ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Über-thanks to Saranna DeWylde—authoress and, probably by the time of this book’s publication, a superstah in the literary romance world! After a totally random check-in email, you gave me the best ideas ever for this particular edition of the Accidentals. Much love, chica. You’re a rock star!
My son Cameron, who’s so brilliant it frightens me (He really is. Buy this book because he wants to go to an Ivy League school. Pleaaaase.), and who came up with such a terrific idea when talking this plot out with me. And my pal and beta reader Kaz who gave me a deeper insight to this particular plot.
To all my Facebook/Twitter fans and friends—I can’t begin to express to you the rollicking good time I have with you every day in proper words. You hang out, you answer my questions of the day, we talk books, we snark American Idol auditions and The Bachelor, or we just talk life. Whatever we’re doing, know how much you’re appreciated and adored by me. And to Mark Boyer, the hilariously funny man I based Phoebe’s best friend on and an active participant on my Facebook fan page who might be sorry he won that contest!
Also, to all of you soap opera fans out there: I loved soap operas and was a faithful watcher for many, many years. My shout-out to them (in my parody sort of way) is with the greatest love and the absolute deepest respect.
And huge, huge thanks to the following shows, all of which had a hand in this book: Castle, Glee, The X-Files, Fringe, Grey’s Anatomy, and Psych!
Most especially to Melissa Dwyer, whose emails not only make me smile, but remind me the human spirit is not just alive, but on fire! I love ya, honey—you’re one helluva fighter!
And, as always, to my (in earlier Accidentals dedications) one-time boyfriend, now husband, Rob. I could never do this if I didn’t have a safe harbor to park my whine in. That safe harbor is you.
Dakota
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
CHAPTER
1
“Will I sparkle in the sunlight? Because confession: I’m uncomfortable sparkling,” Samuel McLean said.
“Oh, dude, if you go out in the sunlight, I can promise there’ll be no sparkling. Now sparks? Hmmm. Could be. Definitely some fucking flames. For sure a whole lotta screaming, ‘Oh, my God, it burns!’ but no sparkles. Though, I gotta give it to you, dude. With what you’re wearin’, you give sparkly a whole new level of ugly.”
He ignored the crude woman’s crack about his dress. According to the lady in the thrift store, he’d gotten a good deal on it, and it was a hot color this season. So, yeah. “Another pressing thought?”
“Shoot.”
“Do I have to pick a team? I don’t want to screw with Edward or Jacob’s self-esteem.”
A cackle with a definite hint of devious pleasure threading through it followed Sam’s question. The deep chuckle literally clanged in his ears to the point of painful, leaving him feeling like one full-bodied raw nerve. He shifted in his chair at the basement offices of OOPS, pulling uncomfortably at the front of his red sequined dress to create some much-needed airflow.
Christ, it was hot. Why was it so damn hot?
From behind him, the lingering presence of the woman who’d plowed into the office like he owed her money was downright imposing. When she leaned over his shoulder, Sam forced himself to forget he was wearing a hot little number. He mentally put his man-suit back on and asked, “You are, again?” with as much of an arrogant, I’m-still-in-charge-of-this-situation tilt to his penciled-in eyebrow as he could muster.
For which the imposing female wasn’t at all fazed. “Nina. Nina Blackman-Statleon. Vampire. The non-sparkly kind.”
The breathtaking brunette in jeans and a sweatshirt clamped a hand on his shoulder. She clenched it with fingers of steel that burned clear through his shifting shoulder pads and made his big hoop, clip-on earrings sway. “Man, as soon as I heard you were here, I skipped right over like I was on my way to the flippin’ Ring-Ding factory VIP tour. So. Jazzed. Look.”
She came to stand in front of him, holding out a basket before she unceremoniously plunked it in Sam’s lap. “When Marty called me, I got so fucking excited you weren’t a whiny female this time round, I threw this shit together. We’ve never had a legit dude accidentally bitten before. So call it my Vampire Welcome to the Clan gift.”
She grinned, beautiful and maybe just a little too smug for his liking, quite obviously pleased with her generous contribution to this vampire thing.
Samuel’s eyes trailed down to the wicker basket in his lap and pushed his skirt toward his knees in the effort to keep his man bits properly covered—still too dazed to respond. Though not so dazed he missed the packet labeled BLOOD in bold black letters. It glistened, red and delicious, taunting him from its plastic casing.
Hungry, Sammy?
He clenched his jaw again, grinding his teeth together—which wasn’t easy, considering their recent growth spurt. Fuck. He was actually eyeing the blood like it was a filet. Apparently a delicacy, as part of Marty’s Welcome to the Night Dwellers Club information packet, he’d never eat again.
“Oh, look,” the aforementioned Marty remarked in dry tones, leaning against a chipped desk with her arms crossed over her chest. “Nina the Sensitive was kind enough to make you a vampire care package, Mr. McLean. Suppose you could’ve waited until he knew everything he was in for before you threw him into the dark overlord deep end of the pool, Nina?”
The brunette turned her middle finger up at the blonde with a smirk. “Blow me. He’s a man, Marty. He’d better take it like one. Which means he needs to get used to the fact that if he goes out in the sunlight without that goddamned SPF two trillion, he’ll burn like a Yule log. And he’s got to feed or he’ll shrivel up just like all of his useless organs have.”
Sam fought hard to keep the man in his male equation intact and not flinch when Nina reminded her friend his organs were now persona non grata and his time-share in Aruba was going to be a future Craigslist ad.
He squared his shoulders. Not that it was easy to do in a sequined red dress and heels.
Project his manliness, that is.
How the hell did women keep these skimpy dresses in place? For that matter, how did they keep their legs closed, their nylons from ripping, their bra straps from digging a hole in their skin, apply false eyelashes with diamond studs on them and not end up with glue all over their faces, and walk in heels all at the same damn time?
Suffice it to say, Sam did not enjoy being a girl. He looked down at his chest in disgust, adjusting his half deflated gel bra with impatience when the third woman in the trio spoke.
“Did you say manly?” a chestnut-haired brunette remarked with a snort at Nina’s comment. “You mean like the way you took it, Nina? All manly?” she taunted with a raised eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with laughter.
Nina made a face, distorting her beauty, and plopped down in a chair behind a duplicate of the desk Marty stood in front of. “Shut the hell up, Wanda. I did not either cry.”
Wanda. Yes. Sam remembered now. The elegantly dressed, gracious lady was Wanda Schwartz-Jefferson—the werevamp. At least that’s what he recalled her saying when he’d woken up in their office to find himself being hurled into a chair with the declaration that he had the ugliest pumps ever. Though, they’d assured him, his color something or other was spot on.
That had been Marty’s contribution to his condition.
Marty Flaherty … the woman. Who’d lifted all six-foot-five and two hundred and thirty pounds o
f him like he was nothing more than a curling iron. Marty the werewolf-woman, that is.
So. Much. Crazy.
Wanda clucked her tongue. “No. You didn’t cry, badass. You pissed and moaned and carried on for days. That’s what you did.” She snapped her fingers together to shush Nina, who was quite obviously ready to react. With venom, if Sam was accurately reading her vibe. “Now, before things get out of control like they always do, shut up, Nina. Yes, you’re the expert on vampires here. Yes, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to add to Mr. McLean’s misery because that’s all part of the Nina genius. But you’re not going to do it for the pathetic glee the shock value brings you. Not today, Elvira. I refuse to have one more accidentally turned client fill out that infernal comment form Casey insisted we put on our site with another negative review about your skills as a paranormal crisis intervention counselor. Refuse.”
Nina brushed imaginary lint from her sweatshirt that had a thumbs-up sign and read, VAMPIRE SEX. 24 PEOPLE LIKE THIS. “Oh, please. We all know that dude was a total dick. Of course we weren’t helpful or whatever the fuck he said. He wasn’t really accidentally anything—except maybe a moron. He was no more accidentally turned into a dragon than I am the new Miss Fucking Universe. He had eczema—not scales. Bet he’d take that shit off the OOPS site if he knew his ass was in for a poundin’ from me. Shoulda just killed him when I had the little douche in the trunk of the car.”
Wanda took a deep breath, her hands gripping the edge of her desk. “The point being, he should have never been in the trunk of your car, Nina! For the love of—you can’t just throw someone who makes you angry in the trunk of your car and threaten to make them a pair of cement Louboutins—even when they send us on a wild-goose chase! We are professionals. Now, false report or not, Chester wasn’t the only one who left a comment that was less than favorable about you, Mistress of the Dark. So knock it off! This is someone’s life—not a game where the poor, accidentally turned is the hunted and you’re the hunter. So stay seated, quiet your ever-unhelpful mouth, and let us assist Mr. McLean.”