Since I couldn't kill it, I had to get rid of it. What did I do? I caught sight of myself in the floor to ceiling mirror and tried to ignore the fact that all I could see reflected back at me were my wide blue eyes. What I couldn't see was the rest of me, the pale skin, the mile long legs, and too-generous hips and thighs. The dripping black hair sleeked to my scalp. The pointy fangs. None of it, because I was a walking spawn of Satan.

I tossed Beezlebub into the living room, grabbed the tallest glass from my kitchen, and played tag with the stupid mouse until I finally scooped it up and slammed a plastic dish over the top. No need to let it try and escape, right? Right.

Then I realized I was still buck naked, and I had to toss the mouse out into the yard. After I set the glass on my dresser, I snatched my nightshirt off the dirty clothes pile and pulled it over my head. With my Winnie-the-Pooh nighty stuck to my wet skin and the mouse in a glass, I jerked the door open and launched my uninvited guest...right into the broad, scrumptious chest of my worst nightmare.

Andre St. James, the man responsible for turning me into the undead. His large dark-skinned hand snapped out and caught the tail of the mouse. When he brought it up to his eye level, the hairy little guy squeaked in mad terror, prey before a predator. I could relate. I'd had those pale celery green eyes trained on me enough times to know that I melted into an orgasmic puddle within a few seconds. He dropped the mouse who, like a smart little rodent, ran like hell. Unlike me, who stayed where I was with my mouth agape.

"Cynthiana." The way he said my name, with an emphasis on the first syllable, made it sound like something naughty and sinful. His Noo Awlins accent made everything sound naughty. The man could read a phonebook, and I'd get turned on.

Heat flooded my body, and my nipples tightened. His eyes zoomed right in on the pointed tips. I swallowed.

Don't panic, girl! He's a bad, bad man who turned you without asking pretty please first. Even if he was gorgeous and had skin like yummy milk chocolate. Even though he tasted just as good as he looked. Oh, yeah…I really, really loved chocolate. Wait, what was I thinking? Bad, bad man. Remember? Shit.

"Yes, Satan?" I propped my forearm of the doorjamb and cocked a hip. My other hand kept a death grip on the doorknob. Right now, it was the only thing keeping me from flinging myself at him and begging him to shake me all night long.

His full lips quirked, and I swayed toward him. "Invite me in."

"No." The word escaped as a sigh.

His long finger lifted to stroke my elbow, the only part of me that stuck out of the doorway. Hot flashes rippled out from the touch, and I wanted to rip my jammies off and run around with my panties on my head. If I had any on. Which I didn't.

"Invite me to come inside."

"Come inside me." The words fell out of my mouth before I knew what I meant to say. Warmth rushed up my cheeks. Oh, shit on a stick. I had not just said that. I had not.

"As you wish, cherie." A full blown smile spread over his face. Damn, it made his already gorgeous features just…perfect. My stomach executed a slow flip. He stepped over the threshold.

I put up a hand and scrambled back. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. That's not what I meant."

"I'd always thought you were a woman of your word." He kept coming towards me. Stalked me. One step forward for him and two steps back for me. I couldn't let him touch me again. The night would start out with a bang. Literally. That would be a huge mistake. I'd done that before and look where it got me. One way ticket to Fangville.