books by Mary Janice Davidson

from Undead and Unappreciated. . . with high recommendations for summer fluff reading

Suddenly, there she was, sitting across from me. The devil. Satan. The lord of lies. And it wasn't any big shock-I'd known it would be coming. And I instantly knew who she was. Some things you just know, the way you just know you shouldn't wear true black mascara because it makes your eyes look small and squinty.

The devil, in case you ever wanted to know, is a woman in her late forties. Today, she was wearing a dark gray suit that buttoned up the front and looked almost military, black panty hose, and plain black pumps. Her hair was a rich chocolate brown, with streaks of silver at the temples, and done up in an elegant bun. Her eyes were very black. Her ears weren't pierced; in fact, the devil wore no jewelry at all.

She studied me from across the table for a few moments. Finally she said, "You are the vampire queen."

It wasn't a question, so I guessed she wasn't taking a poll. I wiped my mouth. "Uh. . . yeah."
"Elizabeth Taylor."

"Yes." From pure force of habit, I checked out her shoes again . . . then looked one more time. What I had first taken for plain black pumps were in fact Roger Vivier comma heels. Vivier customized footwear for celebrities; his shoes were literally one of a kind. Queen Elizabeth had worn a pair to her coronation. I was looking at hand-tooled shoes with garnets in the heels.

Circa 1962. Only sixteen pairs were made.
They were the holy grail of footgear.
"Wh-where did you get those?"
The devil gave me a wintry smile. "Would you like them?"