Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead

Thank you for purchasing this Pocket Star Books eBook.

Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great eBooks from Pocket Star Books and Simon & Schuster.

 
C LICK HERE TO SIGN UP

or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com

Critics and authors adore the paranormal novels of Katie MacAlister

“Smart, sexy, and laugh-out-loud funny!”

—Christine Feehan

“Wickedly sensual and irresistibly amusing . . . graced with MacAlister’s signature sharp wit and fabulously fun characters.”

—
Booklist

LIFESTYLES

OF THE

RICH

AND

UNDEAD

KATIE M
AC
ALISTER

Pocket Star Books

New York   London   Toronto   Sydney   New Delhi

Contents

Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead

The Undead in My Bed –
Bonus Material

Shades of Gray

Undead Sublet

Out with a Fang

Don’t forget to click through after

LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH AND UNDEAD

for an exclusive sneak peek at the sizzling vampire romance anthology

THE UNDEAD IN MY BED

with stories by bestselling author Katie MacAlister, Molly Harper, and Jessica Sims

Available from Pocket Books October 2012

“Which line do you want run as an intro? ‘Grayson Soucek has a penchant for redheads’ or ‘Grayson Soucek likes his women independent, intelligent, and not the least bit clingy’? We’ll run whichever one you prefer.”

Trudy Bennes, hostess of the Otherworld’s highest rated celebrity-watch show,
Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead
, glanced up from the mirror where she was critically examining a few lines that she had noticed just that morning around her steely blue eyes. Drat it, it was time to sacrifice another virgin, or whatever it was her makeup girl did to make her look as young as when she’d started hosting the show some thirty years before. “Does he really have a penchant for redheads?”

Ernst, a production assistant, shrugged. “No clue. Which line do you want run?”

Trudy considered her auburn hair for a moment before saying decisively, “The first. Are we ready to shoot the intro?”

“Just waiting on you,” Ernst said, nodding to the small, bustling group of sound and video people who had spent the past two hours setting up their expensive equipment outside a very formidable iron gate.

Trudy gave one last annoyed look at the wrinkles around her eyes, made a mental note to put in an order for another tub of Madame Liling’s World-Renowned Love Potion, Breast Enhancer, and Wrinkle Eradicator, and straightened her shoulders, her head held high and a smile affixed firmly to her face as she strode in front of the camera.

“Greetings, denizens of the Otherworld! I am Trudy Bennes, and tonight I’m in the romantic Czech Republic tracking down one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors. He’s dark, he’s tortured, he’s as angsty as they get, and he brings new meaning to the word ‘bloodthirsty.’ He’s Grayson Soucek, and if you haven’t guessed by now, Gray is a Dark One—that’s a vampire to you and me—and, ladies, he’s not only eligible, he’s also gorgeous. We’re talking six foot two and a pair of smoldering gray eyes (who knew gray could smolder?) that made
this
reporter reconsider her recent engagement to Otherworld News anchor Patton Alexander. Just kidding, Patton, darling! You know I only have eyes for you.”

Trudy gestured toward the gate, and another production assistant scampered forward to twist a massive key in the lock, simpering for a moment at the camera before catching Trudy’s narrowed eyes.

“As you can tell by the view through the gates behind me—locked to keep out the tourists—Grayson lives in a romantic old mansion. But lucky us, we have the key to the gates, courtesy of a very helpful real estate agent. Thank you, Manuela, that really will be enough. Stroll with me now, dear viewers, as we head to the house and see if we can’t find the dashing Mr. Soucek relaxing at home.”

The cameraman, with a Steadicam rig strapped to his torso, followed as Trudy tripped gaily down the curved drive, gesturing gracefully as she passed points of interest. Behind the cameraman, Ernst hissed softly to the producer, “Psst. James. You did get ahold of the vampire, didn’t you?”

James waved away the question. “Tried a few times, but he wouldn’t respond to phone calls or e-mails. Doesn’t matter, though. These sorts of fellows always fancy themselves heroes and can’t wait to have their mugs plastered all over TV.”

Ernst had other ideas about that statement, but with the welfare of his wife and their child-to-be uppermost in mind, he wisely kept his opinion to himself, and simply resolved to stay back several feet when Grayson discovered the film crew on his doorstep. It didn’t do to mess with a Dark One.

“To the right, you see what must have once been a dower house, but is clearly now disused,” Trudy chirped as she passed a structure that looked like it was about ready to implode. “To our left is part of the formal gardens that grace this lovely estate. And the house itself—well, you can see how grand it is, although one wing has obviously suffered some sort of a fire. We’ll enter through the double front doors into what I’m told is a spectacularly grand hallway. Manuela! Key! No, to the house, you stup—er . . . silly girl. Yes, that’s the one. Open the doors, please, so that we might take the camera inside. No,
both
doors.”

Trudy glanced over her shoulder to the camera, and gave a hopeless, “good help is so hard to find” smile when Manuela threw open the double doors with an awkward flourish.

“Follow me now, dear ones, into the opulent and gracious world of the rich and—oh, hello!”

Trudy stopped suddenly when a figure loomed up out of the darkness. The cameraman only just missed bumping into her.

The man who stalked forward looked angry as hell. Ernst slid cautiously behind both the cameraman and the director.

“What the hell? Who are you? And how did you get into my house? The door was locked, I know it was!”

Trudy gave him her very best smile, the one she reserved for paparazzi. “Goodness, you’re every bit as gorgeous as they say you are. You are Grayson Soucek, are you not?”

“Who the devil are you?” he snarled, narrowing his eyes (which Trudy couldn’t help but notice were far closer to shooting ire than to smoldering in a seductive manner).

“I’m Trudy Bennes from
Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead
, and we’re here to feature you and your beautiful old house on this week’s show—”

“I don’t want to be on your show!” Gray’s expression went from suspicious to outright hostile.

“You can’t mean that,” Trudy said with a bright smile at the camera. “You’re just shy, and let me tell you that from a feminine point of view, that’s a very adorable trait in a man—”

“I’m not shy, I’m not adorable, and I don’t want you here. I don’t know how you got past a locked gate and locked front doors, but you can just take yourself out the way you came and leave me the hell alone.” As he spoke, he shooed them all toward the open door.

“You don’t understand,” Trudy said soothingly, putting one graceful, pale hand on his arm and upping the wattage in her smile until it must have almost blinded him. “We’re here about your woman.”

He stopped, looking startled. “My woman? What woman?”

“Your ideal woman.” She gave him a demure look, one that she felt conveyed to a nicety the possibility that he could, if he expended an appropriate amount of charm, steal her away from her newscaster fiancé. “You are one of this year’s most eligible bachelors, Grayson.”

Now he looked downright appalled. “Well, stop it! I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor!”

Trudy gave up what was obviously going to be the less successful role of seductress for that of hostess, gesturing with grand movements as she spoke in a voice rich with emotion. “There are thousands of women out there, Grayson, nay,
millions
of women who are even right now watching this show and sighing to themselves over you. They want you, Gray. They want to know all about you, what your likes and dislikes are, what leaves you cold, and what makes you burn with desire.”

She paused, feeling obligated to offer him one last seductive look, but the expression of profound horror on his face left her grumbling to herself about men who didn’t know a good thing when it was standing right in front of them.

“I don’t want any woman! And I certainly don’t want thousands, nay,
millions
of them hanging around my neck, sighing and getting in my way. I will thank you to remove yourselves from my property and leave me alone.”

Before Trudy could do more than sputter a few protests, Gray pushed them all out the doors, which were then slammed shut with a finality that Trudy felt bordered on obnoxious.

“Well, I have never—” The words stopped abruptly as the door was wrenched open again. Gray glared quickly past Trudy to where the sun shone fully on the front door, and he sidestepped a stream of sunlight as it fell onto the floor.

“The keys.”

Trudy blinked twice, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Should she tell him what she thought of his high-handed treatment? Should she point out that she was the hostess of the highest rated show on the Otherworld’s network? Should she scornfully point out just what he’d lost through his obvious stupidity? She considered all of those options in a fraction of a second, reluctantly discarding them when she remembered that next month’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t available for another three weeks. She smiled, somewhat tightly, to be true, but it was still a smile. “What keys, dear Grayson?”