Good Vampires Go to Heaven

“Ah think it’s time fer me ta make an exit.” Beau chuckled and skipped down the steep steps and around Zeb. He winked at Regina before he got in his car and drove away, tooting his horn.

  “What are you doing?” Regina repeated.

  At the foot of the steps, he tossed his T-shirt aside and toed off his boots. His open jeans hung on his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. His hair had grown out enough that it resembled one of Trond’s military haircuts. She also noticed that his beautiful eyelashes were half-mast and sexy as hell as he answered her, “What am I doing? I’m getting ready to do what I should have done long ago. I’m going to lay you down and rock your world. About a dozen times. Then I’m going to let you do the same to me. Then you could maybe show me how you masturbate. I’ve been fantasizing about how . . . never mind. For now. And I might spank you, à la Fifty Shades of Perversion, if you beg me. After that, we’ll probably get married.”

  Oh, boy! “Is that a fact?” She put her hands on her hips, but she was smiling.

  “Guar-an-teed!”

  “You’re learning Cajun real fast.”

  “Wait till you see what else I’ve learned.”

  She was pretty sure it was raining somewhere.

  Epilogue

  As the vangel world turns . . .

  Regina and Zeb were married a month later at the castle in Transylvania. It was the first time the remaining one hundred vangels had gotten together since the Final Reckoning.

  Those who had not already gone on to Tranquility were biding their time on making a decision. That didn’t include Regina and Zeb, though. They’d already decided to stay in the present as humans and take their chances that they could live on the straight and narrow. If not, they had Tante Lulu to help them stay on track. They were going to live in Louisiana as honorary Cajuns . . . a designation given them by the bayou dingbat . . . uh, senior citizen. For the time being, anyhow.

  Regina wore a traditional white gown and veil for her wedding. Vera Wang, no less. Anyone who dared to object to a witch wearing white might very well find themselves cursed, or so she threatened.

  Zeb wore a black tuxedo, and his hair was long enough now that he could at least brush it wetly off his face. Which made him even more sexy, Regina said to one and all.

  Tante Lulu and her LeDeux family gang came north for the wedding and fit right in with the wacky townsfolk in Transylvania. In fact, they stayed two extra days to take in all the sights. The mayor of Transylvania invited Tante Lulu to come back in October for the Halloween Vampire Parade, but she’d had to decline. Couldn’t stay away from the bayou on that holiday! She was planning on dressing as Elvira this year.

  Vikar gave Regina away, and was heard to mutter to his wife, “And it’s about time we got rid of the witch!”

  To which, Alex had replied, “Better be careful, or she’ll turn your Seventh Wonder into a pretzel.” Seventh Wonder was the name she had given his you-know-what of late. Everyone wanted to know what his six other wonders were, especially his brothers who were always interested in anything to do with sex.

  Trond served as Zeb’s best man and claimed that he knew all along that the former Lucipire would end up with a witch someday. A fitting conclusion to a demonic life!

  Zeb had countered that at least he didn’t have a wife who could beat him up. Trond’s wife was a female Navy SEAL.

  The other five Sigurdsson brothers served as groomsmen, along with Beau Doucet. The matron of honor was Alex Sigurdsson. The bridesmaids were Nicole; Camille; Mordr’s wife, Miranda; Sigurd’s wife, Marisa; Cnut’s wife, Andrea; and Tante Lulu, who was actually stunning in a Donna Karan fuchsia sheath dress and fuchsia high heels, that went well with her hot pink hair. All the attendants wore Donna Karan in different colors.

  Thor was left behind to guard the stilted cottage which Zeb and Regina were going to buy. What they were going to do for work later was yet to be decided. They were taking their time, like all the other former vangels. And, no, Zeb had told Ivak adamantly, he did not want to take over his job as chaplain at Angola Prison. In fact, Zeb was looking into the possibility of starting his own vineyard. The bayou lands with their humid temperatures and frequent flooding might not be the best place for that.

  Andrea, a chef, worked with Tante Lulu to create a five-tiered Peachy Praline Cobbler Wedding Cake, but it had cinnamon crumbles along the edges, at the groom’s request.

  There was a light shower just before the outdoor ceremony, but everyone said it lent a fresh rain scent to the entire event afterward.

  The priest from St. Vladimir’s Catholic Church was supposed to perform the marriage ceremony, but at the last minute St. Michael showed up to do the job. He explained to the congregation, “God sent me. The Good Lord likes nothing better than a lost sheep come back to the fold.”

  Many in attendance weren’t sure if Michael was referring to Zeb or to them. But there was a lot of surreptitious baa-ing going on. Vikings did like to mock each other.

  Michael also agreed to a second ceremony in a modified Jewish fashion, in deference to Zebulan’s Hebrew heritage. The ritual was performed under an open-sided canopy called a chuppah and led eventually to the Seven Blessings. At the end, a wineglass was placed on the floor which Zeb crushed with his shoe to symbolize the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem. But some of the Vikings were said to remark that it was the last time Zeb would be able to put his foot down with his witchy wife.

  After the ceremony and the meal, catered by Lizzie Borden, of course, the party became loud and raucous. These were mostly Vikings, after all, and Vikings knew how to have a good time. So did Cajuns. At one point when the band was playing “When the Saints Go Marching In” (though none of them were saints . . . far from it!), someone spoke into the microphone, “Hey, how about the Michael dance?”

  Over the years, the Sigurdsson men had watched the movie Michael in which a crude, cigarette-smoking version of the archangel Michael, did a really cool, snake-like dance to the song “Chain of Fools.” And so the Sigurdsson men showed just what moves a Viking man had. To everyone’s surprise, Zeb joined in. After all, he’d been practicing Viking for a long time, or so he told the laughing crowd.

  Not to be undone, the LeDeux men did a wild Village People version of “Macho Man” in which they changed the lyrics to “Cajun Man.” Those Cajuns could dance!

  Zeb and Regina were going on a honeymoon to some secret location, which they wouldn’t reveal to anyone (can anyone say Caribbean Island hideaway?), but for that night they were staying in the Dracula suite at the local Blood & Guts Hotel. It promised all the comforts of a queen-size, satin-lined coffin bed with cup holders for Bloody Marys and a built-in sound system that played dirge music. They couldn’t wait.

  A seed was planted that night in Transylvania which answered that age-old question: Could ex-vampires have children?

  They could.

  Reader Letter

  Dear Readers:

  Did you like Zeb’s story? I wanted this book to be special, to please so many of you who have grown attached to the “good demon” and wanted him to get his well-deserved redemption. I think Zeb touches us because no one is perfect, and we want to believe that second chances are available, even to the most hardened sinner.

  Well, that completes the series . . . for now. All seven Sigurdsson brothers have had their stories, along with Zeb, and Karl Mortenssen in a separate novella, Christmas in Transylvania. Will there be any more Deadly Angels books? Probably not. But who can say? Never say never, right? At the least, there might be a novella.

  I hope you’ll go back and read the entire series, if you haven’t already. Kiss of Pride, Kiss of Surrender, Kiss of Temptation, Kiss of Wrath, Kiss of Persuasion, Even Vampires Get the Blues, The Angel Wore Fangs, and Good Vampires Go to Heaven.

  I took poetic license in two instances in Good Vampires Go to Heaven:

  —Contrary to popular opinion, the women killed during the Salem Witch Trials were hanged, not burned at the stake. I chose
to go with the popular, yet incorrect, fire deaths.

  —There really was a tragic event at Masada, a fortress located atop an isolated rocky plateau in the southern part of Israel overlooking the Dead Sea. For three years, just decades after the death of Jesus Christ, 967 Hebrew zealots held out against a Roman legion of 15,000 soldiers. Unlike my story, however, they ultimately committed mass suicide rather than surrender to their enemy. There was no fire.

  If my books have helped you develop a taste for Vikings, you’ve got to watch the History Channel’s Vikings series. Many of the historical characters in that series were already in my Viking historical romances. In fact, some of them, like Rollo (aka Rolf the Gangr, first duke of Norsemandy), are actual ancestors of mine. Honest!

  So what next?

  First off, some contemporaries. The infamous Tante Lulu wants to get a few more Cajun stories out there, before she gets too old. Look forward to the LeDeux twins from Alaska: Daniel, the burned-out pediatric oncologist, and Aaron, the pilot. There are other contemporaries I have in mind, as well, all with my trademark humor and sizzle.

  I also want to write more Viking historical romances. Those of you who’ve read my books know who I’m talking about. Alrek the Clumsy Viking. Finn Finehair, the vainest Viking to ride a longship. Tykir’s other sons, Starri, Guthrom, and Selik. Jamie the Scots Viking. And so on. You gotta love a Viking!

  Of course there are those Viking Navy SEAL time travel books. We can’t forget these SEALs: JAM (Jacob Alvarez Mendoza), the former Jesuit priest; K-4, Kevin Fortunato; Geek (Darryl Good), the genius inventor of the penileglove.com with the boyish good looks; FU (Frank Uxley), etc. And, of course, there are all those female SEALs, members of WEALS (Women on Earth, Air, Land, and Sea).

  Please write and tell me what you’d like to read next. I love hearing from readers. I can be reached at my website, www.sandrahill.net, where you can sign up for my mailing list, or you can get news on my Facebook page at Sandra Hill Author.

  As always, I wish you smiles in your reading,

  Sandra Hill

  An Excerpt from The Cajun Doctor

  Don’t miss the next book by New York Times bestselling author

  SANDRA HILL

  The Cajun Doctor

  Coming soon from Avon Books!

  Chapter 1

  Bewitched, Bothered and Doggone Bewildered . . .

  Samantha approached Rose Alley that afternoon with trepidation. After her embarrassing dream, she didn’t want to be within a mile of Doctor Dreamy, but she’d promised Tante Lulu she would come to discuss some ideas for abandoned animals to be relocated here, assuming Daniel and Aaron were on board. Of course, it would be a long time before they would be in a position to offer any services on a large scale; work would be needed on the facilities to meet health code specs and zoning regulations for the kennels. If in fact that would be the ultimate use made of the plantation. So, plenty of time for convincing. On Tante Lulu’s part, not hers.

  As she drove up, she could see that the old lady had turned this into a party, as usual. The landscaping people were already hard at work, clearing away the jungle, with the help of every LeDeux in the world, it seemed. Dozens of them, of all ages. And was that . . . yes, it was that notorious snake catcher Stinky Hawkins. The Times-Picayune ran feature articles on him every other year.

  Of course the first person she ran into was Daniel. As she approached, they glared at each other. He didn’t like her any more than she liked him. He seemed to think she was a spoiled rich girl who’d never struggled a day in her life. She didn’t have much use for doctors per se, especially good-looking ones, after her experience with Nick, but if he was going to have the credentials, she thought it was selfish of him not to use those talents. Egotism, either way.

  Then, at the same time, they both started to say, “I had a dream . . .”

  She slapped a hand over her mouth with horror at her inadvertent admission.

  “Oh, crap!” he said. “We had dreams about each other, didn’t we? The same dream.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He snorted his disbelief.

  “Bite me!”

  “Seems I already did.”

  “Did you do something to plant those . . . those perverted ideas in my head?”

  “You thought they were perverted? Even the suck and tuck move?”

  She ignored his question and continued, “You’re supposedly a doctor. Bet you slipped me a pill or something.” It’s the kind of thing Nick would have done in a heartbeat, if he’d thought of it. But probably not with her. He’d want to play out his fantasies with one of his many mistresses.

  “No supposed about it. I am a doctor, even if I don’t practice anymore. What you’re suggesting is criminal behavior, which I would never participate in. Nor would I need to.” He raised his chin defiantly.

  “Oh, jeez. No need to get bent out of shape. I didn’t really think you gave me anything.”

  He visibly tamped down his temper. “Let’s return to that ‘perversions’ discussion—”

  “Please don’t.”

  “I’ve never heard about that new erogenous zone . . . you know, the one you showed me in the dream. They certainly never taught that in medical school. I figured it was some Cosmo kind of thing.”

  “I don’t read Cosmo. It wasn’t me who . . . never mind.”

  He waggled his eyebrows.

  Samantha was embarrassed. Every single time she met Daniel their conversations seemed to spiral out of control. They threw sparks off each other, and she was at least partly to blame, she knew that.

  Time to change the subject. Samantha inhaled and exhaled. Once again, Daniel had managed to bring out this bitchy side of her personality. Yeah, he was a doctor, but she should be able to judge people on their own merits, not by their professions. It was Nick’s fault, she decided. That was her story, and she was sticking to it. For now.

  “I brought you a housewarming gift,” she said, in a forced tone of politeness.

  He grinned, sensing how hard it was for her to be nice to him.

  “This is Max. A kitty just for you.”

  He stopped grinning.

  Out shot a golden-haired Maine Coon cat with a lopsided red bow tied around its neck. The cat immediately went over to Daniel and hissed up at him.

  “That’s not a kitty. It’s a pony. How much do you feed this animal? Do they have Weight Watchers for cats?”

  “Max likes to snack on mice.”

  “Eeew! I hate cats.”

  “I think Max likes you.” The cat was clawing at his pant leg with one paw. “Oh, isn’t that cute? Max wants a hug.”

  Carefully, he lifted the animal as if it might attack at any minute. Which it might. “I hate cats,” he repeated.

  Max licked his face, and he cringed, then hid a smile. Samantha could tell that he didn’t hate cats as much as he claimed. Bored with licking, Max jumped down and rushed over to sniff at the snake barrel.

  “Max could probably catch snakes, too. In addition to mice.”

  “Oh, that’s just wonderful.”

  Just then, Tante Lulu noticed them from over at the buffet table set out on the ground-floor verandah. “Yoo hoo! Over here.”

  She and Daniel glanced at each other, remembered the dream, and stomped toward the old lady for a confrontation.

  “Did you put a spell on us?” Samantha demanded to know.

  “Huh?”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in that voodoo junk,” Daniel added.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me, you meddling dingbat. I know what you’re capable of.” Daniel looked as if he’d like to throttle Tante Lulu.

  The old lady narrowed her eyes at him. “I doan like yer tone, boy. If yer not careful, I’m gonna toss ya in one of Stinky’s snake barrels.” Then she turned to Samantha with a smile. “Did I tell ya Daniel ain’t gay?”

  Daniel stiffened.

  Samantha had
to laugh. The old lady sure knew which buttons to push on Daniel. She was always telling people that he wasn’t gay. She wasn’t sure if it was because he rarely dated, or because of his appearance, which didn’t look gay to her, or something else.

  But Daniel was learning not to rise to her jibes every time. He just walked away.

  “Looks like they’re making a lot of progress outside,” Samantha remarked then. The wide area between the alleé, or alley, of live oaks, now the horseshoe-shaped driveway, facing the bayou, had been denuded and new grass sewn. The branches with hanging moss of the two-hundred-year-old trees on either side of the road had grown together into a canopy of sorts. Right now a sprinkler system was in operation to get the lawn going, although it rained so often in this semi-tropical climate that it probably wasn’t necessary. Workers were tackling the garden on one side of the house and putting paving stones around the garconniére on the other side.

  Tante Lulu nodded. “Helps when ya got family ta pitch in.”

  “And money to pay an army of workers.” Samantha had heard the two brothers were fairly well off, but she knew from friends’ experiences with old house renovations that money wells could soon become money pits.

  “That, too.” Tante Lulu was in a gardening outfit today. Straw hat, coveralls, and sneakers. Her hair appeared to be purple, or maybe it was a wig. Little dangly earrings in the shape of shovels and rakes hung from her ears. Gardener chic? “C’mon. I’ll show ya ‘round, ’specially the area where I think they could house some animals, if we kin convince Aaron and Daniel.”

  Samantha didn’t like the sound of that we.

  “Show me, too,” Daniel said, coming up behind them.

  Samantha glanced his way with chagrin.

  “What? I’d like to know what the old bird’s plans are, too, especially since I own half the place. I still don’t understand how we could house a bunch of animals here. Who’s gonna take care of them? I mean, there would have to be a manager or vet on hand, wouldn’t there?” He noticed Tante Lulu grinning at him. “Oh, no! I’m not qualified—”