I had three goals: sneak into New Orleans' most exclusive vampire club, expose its illegal blood farm, and launch myself into fame and fortune. Being brutally murdered in a back alley was decidedly not on the itinerary. Talk about a mood killer.

I was even less prepared to wake up in a coffin with a fancy new pair of fangs. And who saved me? Dracula. No, not the historical tyrant, but the actual legend. The ancient and powerful vampire whose stare could melt the panties off a nun. Oh, and he claims we're fated mates. Because, why not?

According to the Vampire 101 Handbook, I'm stuck with him for three months while I learn how not to eat my best friend and adjust to the whole no sunlight rule. But I’ve added one more task to my new to-do list: track down the fanged fiend who tried to off me in the first place. You kill me, I kill you. I’m a lady like that.

Fortunately, my new mate insists on helping. I just need to resist his charms long enough to get the job done. But keeping my hands off Dracula is tough when he’s rocking a hypnotic gaze, a breathtakingly sharp smile, and a protective aura that screams, "I will literally behead anyone who touches you."

Wish me luck. I'm going to need it.