There are nights when I seriously wish I'd never risen from the grave.
Undead assassins are one thing, but when the guy I'm commissioned to kill turns out to have the bluest eyes and yummiest butt I've seen since the fall of the Greek Empire (which, incidentally, was the last time I saw him), I start to have second thoughts.
He calls himself Dare, and it's not just his incomparable hotness that's stalling me. Twenty-three centuries ago my body belonged to the pharaoh and my heart to a soldier. Both of them betrayed me. It was only Dare who tried to save me...
She Who Dares ...because seriously, who sleeps in a coffin these days?
Warning: contains sex, violence, and ancient Egyptian poetry of questionable quality.
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