Accidentally Married To a Vampire?

By: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

The Accidentally Yours Series - Book Two



PRAISE FOR MIMI JEAN’S BOOKS





“He did…what? To her…what? I’m not sure that’s legal.” - Mimi’s Mail Carrier





“Mimi Jean’s writing is pure brilliance. Except for the parts with S.E.X. I don’t approve of such language. But the rest is really good!” - Mimi’s Mother





“¡Ay, no! Esa basura es un pecado. ¿Porque mi hijo tuvo que casarse con alguien tan desagradable?” - Mimi’s Mother In-Law (I think she really likes me!)





Five Stars for ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH…A GOD? “Amazing Book! Finally, something a little different from the normal. I loved this book and couldn't put it down. I can't wait until the next book.” - Anonymous Reader (who rocks, of course!)





Five Stars for ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH…A GOD? “This is an intriguing, funny, steamy, hard-to-put-down book! Mimi Jean takes you to the jungles of Mexico, on a wild adventure to save a god and unlock secrets! Well written! Looking forward to reading more in this series!”- Helena F., Nurse at Duke Hospital





DEDICATION





Ditto from the first book!

But in case you missed it: This book is dedicated to Naughty Nana (whose secret love of men in leather pants provides endless inspiration), the author Phoenix (cheerleader extraordinaire and master of the dreaded comma—don’t give up on me), my two pirates in training (Dudes! Stop hitting each other with swords, already!), and my alpha male supreme (words could never describe what a hotty you truly are!)

Without each of you, there’d be no dreams coming true in my life.





Dear Mortal Female,



Are you one of those unlucky women whose life has been bamboozled by a deceivingly hunky vampire? Are you looking for a way to fix that train wreck you now call your life?

If so, then I will savor your agony because everyone knows that playing smoochie fang with a vampire isn’t wise.

Yes, yes. I hear you…But I thought he’d eat caribou and sparkle. Or my personal favorite…Oh, but he was sooo hot, all brooding and bulging with muscles.

Well, you know what they say about excuses, don’t you? They’re like backsides. Everyone has one, and they all stink.

But fret nyet my little people-pets! Auntie Cimil, Goddess Delight of the Underworld, is here to help you out of your sour pickle. This little tale holds the secret to separating yourself from an unwanted vampire-mate. But be forewarned, “Until death do us part” has a whole other meaning when you’re talking vampires.





Mine Truly,





The Fabulous Miss Cimil





P.S. If you’ve read Book #1 and hope to discover what happens to our hunky, beloved Tommaso or to Emma’s grandmother, then I will also enjoy watching you suffer. The author, who I have every intention of smiting for revealing the gods’ secrets, has no plans to disclose their fates for several more novels (although you’ll get a hint in Book #3). Oh, but it’s going to be sooo good! In the meantime, here’s the next piece of the puzzle…





PROLOGUE





July 12, 1712. Bacalar, Southern Mexico





Delirious with hunger, the weary vampire sat hip-deep in mud, his broad back against a hollow tree as he glared at the crisp blue sky. The month-long summer rains had abruptly retreated. Now how much longer could he wait for her? Hours? Days? Sunshine was not Niccolo DiConti’s most cherished friend.

“Magnifico,” he grumbled.

His gaze shifted to the nearby pool. “Where the devil are you, woman?” he growled. Endless days had passed without as much as a ripple on the water’s surface. This ancient-Mayan ceremonial pool was the goddess’ favorite portal to the human world when she came scouting for souls—he’d paid a king’s ransom for that information—but she’d yet to materialize.

His shoulders slumped, and he sank deeper into the sticky jungle floor. Shards of painful sunlight pierced the tree canopy and danced across his face. A face gloriously referred to by many as that of a hardened warrior—dark features, a few character-building scars, and capable of producing a soul-chilling scowl when necessary. Today, however, he could not muster the strength to frighten a small child.

You are a pitiable mess, he thought for the hundredth time.

Struck hard by the irony of his situation, he let out a bitter chuckle. He was legendary for his raw power, intrepid leadership, and ruthless will to survive—no, not just survive, thrive. In any situation. Any century. But as soon as he saw her, he might actually beg like some lowly mortal serf.

Buon, anything it takes, he reminded himself. And, count your blessings that your men are not present to witness your mental shipwreck on the Island of Self Pity.

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