THERE'S NOTHING LIKE DECEMBER IN FLORIDA…

December Vaughn is tired of her roots. Not the ones in her hair—she is a real blonde after all—but her life in Ohio as a corporate attorney. She's used to turning heads, but now it's time to turn her life around. And what better way to prove all those dumb-blonde jokes wrong than by opening up her own practice in Florida? She's going to take the Sunshine State by storm...

Soon, she's hired by a man whose wife died because of defective insulin. Now, the drug company and its ruthless lawyers are doing anything in their power to derail the case—and December. It's enough to give a girl split ends.

Luckily her over-the-top office manager, a card-sharp housewife, and a drop-dead gorgeous P.I. are on her side. Because December Vaughn may have parted ways with her old life, but she's not about to give up her new one without a fight...

Professor Abraham Van Helsing was the fictional creation of Bram Stoker for his dark work of fantasy Dracula …or was he?

Fragments of a recently discovered journal suggest otherwise.

For the first time, in his own words, the legendary vampire hunter tells his own story

Now country-bred Sophy Dorring is about to become Ravenwood's new bride. Drawn to his masculine strength and the glitter of desire that burned in his emerald eyes, the tawny-haired lass has her own reasons to agreeing to a marriage of convenience. One was vengeance, and in its pursuit she would entagle Julian in a blackmail plot, a dual at dawn, and a dangerous masquerade. The other reason was dearer to her heart, but just a wild quest; Sophy Dorring intended to teach the devil to love again.  
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Her scheme is simple, really: She plans to let it be known that when she inherited her uncle's collection of antiquities, she also inherited a map to a fabulous ancient treasure. She's sure that her enemy would risk financial ruin in pursuit of the mythical artifact. And to make doubly sure the scoundrel took the bait, she wants Colchester to pretend that he's out to seduce Imogene so that he, too, could get his hands on her map.

Yet in all of her plotting, Imogene never anticipates Colchester's violent reaction to her request or her own electrifying reaction to him. Neither does she expect that a malevolent threat would emerge from the labyrinth of London--sinister enough to endanger her and Colchester's lives.  
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It could have been a scene from one of my novels. As a rule, respectable ladies do not accept calls from Mysterious Gentlemen on business of the most grave importance — but I confess that I was possessed of a lively curiosity. The past three years had been so determinedly dull, I hoped Mr. Adam Hardesty would offer a tiny respite from it. Indeed, upon first glance, Mr. Hardesty had such a formidable, thrilling presence, he quickly became the model for the villain in the sensation novel I was currently writing.

Imagine my shock and distress then, when Mr. Hardesty accused me of being party to a plot of murder, blackmail, and general villainy! I knew nothing of such occurrences, and pro-claimed my innocence. Unfortunately, Mr. Hardesty left unconvinced, and I had an uneasy feeling over what his search would uncover. You see, Gentle Reader, though I live a most uneventful life now, my past contained a Great Scandal that would be ruinous if resurrected. To protect my secrets from Mr. Hardesty's investigation, I concluded that I would need to conduct an inquiry of my own, and if that meant sharing my findings with Mr. Hardesty, so be it. And my course of action had nothing whatsoever to do with the illicit, passionate feelings that he aroused in me — feelings that propriety would definitely frown upon . . .

Yours most sincerely,
Caroline Fordyce.