The Vampire Housewife
Ever been almost-beheaded by a snow-plow? Turned by a homeless vampire? Cheated on by your lying sack of shit husband? Welcome to my life… or, more correctly, my crazy after-life.
To everyone behind the gates of our wealthy Charming, Mississippi community, my husband and I were the Joneses everyone tries 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 hip-deep in my best friend’s…business. All up in her business.
Which led to the aforementioned snow plow incident, and I woke up with a fear of the sun and a propensity for drinking blood. Or in laymen’s terms, a vampire.
And my sire looks like he just stepped out of the sewer—like a weird, dirty Snow White, funky forest animals and all. 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 a vampire housewife.