GOOD VAMPIRES GO TO HEAVEN by Sandra Hill #ReleaseBlast @TastyBookTours @SandraHillAuth @AvonBooks

In
an epic madcap battle between good and evil, 

a Demon just might earn his wings
. . . 

and spend eternity with the Vangel of his wildest dreams.

GOOD VAMPIRES GO TO HEAVEN
Deadly Angels #8
Sandra Hill
Releasing Nov 29th, 2016
Avon Books

 

New York Times bestselling author
SANDRA HILL continues her sexy deadly angels series with a good demon who might
finally get his vangel wings…
 
WHEN HE WAS BAD . . .
 
Two-thousand-year-old
vampire demon Zeb is supposed to spend eternity turning mortal sinners into bad
guy Lucipires like himself. That way, they can grow their numbers and fight the
vampire angels known as Vangels. But Zeb is a bad boy in a good way—secretly
working as a double agent for none other than St. Michael the Archangel in
hopes of one day earning his wings. Problem is, Zeb’s betrayal is discovered.
 
Hello,
demon dungeon.
 
HE WAS VERY BAD . . .
 
Until
Regina, a foxy, flame-haired Vangel witch on a rescue mission, busts out Zeb,
along with three oddball Lucipire witches. Hello, temptation!
 
BUT TOGETHER THEY WERE VERY GOOD . .
. !
Their
escape unleashes a war to defeat all Vangels forevermore. In an epic madcap
battle between good and evil, a Demon just might earn his wings . . . and spend
eternity with the Vangel of his wildest dreams.

tastytoursexcerpt

A blue mist seemed to swirl above, then settle around them like a cloudy cocoon. The rain aroma intensified, and for the first time she smelled her own cinnamon fragrance that Zeb had alluded to. Cinnamon rain, for sure. They ought to make a scented candle with that name.

Zeb’s drinking from her was slow and rhythmic and only tiny sips at a time. But, oh, the bliss! It was both primal and sexual. No wonder vangels who mated sometimes fanged each other while making love.

Regina arched her head back to give Zeb better access, an ageless gesture of female submission. How odd! That she would surrender anything to a man!

Only her breasts pressed against his battered body, the rest of her half on, half off the bed, her legs dangling over the side. Still, she adjusted herself so as not to hurt him, and in the process she twined the fingers of one of her hands with his, and she placed her other hand against his head, to hold him in place.

His hand still cupped her nape, but his other hand was making sweeping caresses over her back, from shoulder to rump and back again. Over and over. Even though she wore one of his old T-shirts and jogging shorts, she felt naked under his touch.

Regina was more aroused than she’d ever been in all her life. Not that she’d been inclined to lust very often. Once every century or so.

She wanted to climb atop his body and rub herself against him. Skin to skin. Breast to chest. Pubic bone to pubic bone. Thigh against thigh.

She couldn’t. Even if she could, she wouldn’t.

She wanted to kiss his lips and draw his tongue into her mouth. She would suck on him with childlike hunger. No, not childlike. Nothing childlike about the hunger she was feeling.

In any case, it was a moot point. It was hard to kiss a fanging man when only one set of fangs was involved. Two sets? Impossible! Wasn’t it? They might even get locked together. Imagine Vikar’s consternation if she arrived back at the castle fang-locked with a demon vampire, wanting him to unlock them. They would be the laughingstock of all vangeldom. Angeldom, too, she supposed.

She could imagine the jokes.

“How do two vampires kiss?”

“Carefully.”

Better she concentrate on something else.

She had to stop Zeb’s drinking from her, for now, or she would be drained. Slowly, carefully, she pushed herself up and away, until his fangs withdrew from her with a small pop. He licked the skin, reflexively, to seal the wound.

“That’s all for now,” she said and rose off the bed. Her shaky knees almost gave out. How was she going to do this again and again until Zeb was healed? She would be a basket case. The most satisfied woman in the universe! Or the most stirred up and antsy for release! Yikes!

Zeb’s eyes opened for a moment, and he said, “Thank you.” Almost immediately, he fell back asleep, or unconscious. His body still threw off heat like an inferno; so the danger was not over. Still, she sensed that he was a little better.

She covered his body with a thin sheet, dabbed at the blood on his lips with a tissue (the fangs having retracted already), and finally replied to his comment, “No. Thank you!”

******

Guest Post

  CAN VAMPIRES REALLY GO TO HEAVEN?

As the title of my latest novel, GOOD VAMPIRES GO TO HEAVEN implies, you might be surprised to find a vampire or two when you hit the Pearly Gates.  I’ll take it one step further.  Even vampire demons get a shot at the heavenly afterlife.

How is this possible?  Surely vampires are dark creatures whose misdeeds are more attuned to the other side.  And demons?  No way could demons get past St. Peter.

Could they?

Let’s ask Zebulan, my tortured hero with a sense of humor, a good demon, if there is such a thing.

So, Zeb, isn’t that an oxymoron, good/demon?

Not really.  I had a really horrific event take place in my life almost two thousand years ago (yes, I give new meaning to the term senior citizen), which started me on a sinful path of revenge.  Really sinful.  Unfortunately, Jasper, king of the Lucipires (demon vampires), took note of my depravity and yanked me over to his minions of bad guys.  But I never really wanted to be evil.  In fact, I yearned to become a vangel (a vampire angel).

Sounds impossible.  How did you go about making the transition from demon to angel?

Well, it wasn’t easy, believe me.  Here are the steps I followed.

          –Begged St. Michael the Archangel, the vangels’ celestial mentor, to give me wings.  That didn’t work, by the way.  My advice: Pray, maybe.  Beg, no.

          –Signed on as a double agent for the vangels.  Okay, that was a good first step…for a few years.  But up to fifty years, give or take?  C’mon!

          –Withstood demonic torture when my duplicity was discovered.  Forget the rack, or water boarding.  Among other perverse tactics they used on me, can anyone say barbed wire on my…well, you know what?

          –Accepted that I wasn’t going to be rescued by some legion of fierce vangel warriors, but instead a coven of witches in a hot air balloon.  (I kid you not!)

–Resisted (okay, I didn’t really resist) the temptation of that red-haired, sizzling hot vangel, Regina, who led the Motley Crue Coven.  And isn’t it odd that she looks like Satan’s sister?

So, in other words, it’s a long journey.  But what you’re saying is that even the worst sinner can be saved?

Well, duh, isn’t that the basis of all religious beliefs?  Redemption.  And listen, don’t we all wish for a second chance at life?  A do-over?  Whether we’ve committed small sins, or big whoppers, we hope to be forgiven.

It all sounds so serious.

It is, but then, my journey (and your lives, as well) are filled with laughter, aren’t they?  I contend that God himself has a great sense of humor.  Man and his foibles are perfect fodder for laughter.  (Picture cave man times, for example.  “Hey, Ugga, is my forehead too sloping?” followed by, “Forget your forehead, Oog.  Go get me a dinosaur steak.” Or how about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.  “Are you sure you don’t want a bite of my apple, Adam?” countered by a “Bite me!” said under the breath.)

Check out my website, www.sandrahill.net, or my Facebook page, Sandra Hill Author, for information about GOOD VAMPIRES GO TO HEAVEN, and my other forty-some books.

As always, I wish you smiles in your reading.  And may there be lots of second chances in your lives, too.

 

****

 

 

 



Sandra
Hill
is a
graduate of Penn State and worked for more than 10 years as a features writer
and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing
about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even
the darkest stories. She is the wife of a stockbroker and the mother of four
sons.
 

 

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

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