After her recent trip to hell, Betsy isn’t exactly sorry she killed the devil, even though it’s put her sister Laura in a damnable position: forced to assume the role of Satan—she may not have the training, but she sure looks great in red—and in charge of billions of souls now that she’s moved up in the world. Or is that down?
But Betsy’s in an odd new situation as well—that of being a monarch suddenly in charge of all things earthbound, like her husband, Sinclair, who has gone from relieved to ecstatic to downright reckless now that he can tolerate sunlight.
As if that wasn’t enough, Betsy and Sinclair’s adopted little BabyJon is finally starting to walk. And if the increasingly unpredictable toddler is anything like his extended family, precisely where he’s headed is anyone’s guess.
I gave it some thought, and I think the only thing worse than going to Hell (especially if you don’t think you’ve done anything to deserve burning in a lake of fire for eternity) is running Hell. The bureaucracy, the demonic co-workers, the locals who hate you as much as they fear you, and (to channel Elaine on Seinfeldfor a minute) the heat. My God, the heat! It must be a lot like being a cog in the DMV: necessary, but utterly thankless.
Well, too bad for Betsy, because that’s what she’s facing in this book. Due to the events of Undead and Unstable, Hell’s top spot is now vacant, and the Anti-Christ figures that since Betsy created the vacancy, she should be the one to fill it. Betsy disagrees, but the Anti-Christ has ways and ways…
This is also the first Undead book where half of it is told from the vampire king’s perspective: Sinclair (or Sink Lair, as Betsy insists on calling him). The happy couple are wrenched apart early on, and while Betsy is trapped with the damned in Hell, Sinclair is prepared to go through anything—or anyone—to rescue his beloved queen.
I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t believe this is the 12th Betsy book. I’ve somehow managed to make a dozen of something. If the books were eggs, they would have their own carton! I’m not sure why I find that so exciting, but I do! Thus all the exclamation marks! A decade ago, when I had the image of a young woman waking up in a morgue in awful orange makeup and someone else’s shoes, a woman who had no idea she was a vampire, I wrote it down simply to get it out of my brain and onto paper. I had no idea the silly brave queen of the vampires would change my life, 100% for the better.
Speaking of 100% better, you guys had everything to do with that. I can’t tell you how much your e-mails and letters have meant to me over the years. From readers who have brought one of my books to a chemo session because they needed a laugh, to readers telling me they want to be a writer just like me, it’s so humbling and I feel more blessed than I could ever, ever put into words. And so here is my solemn, swear-on-a-stack-of-Jimmy-Choos oath to you: as long as you want to keep reading about Betsy and her pals, I’ll keep writing about them.
So buckle in and get ready…Betsy’s stuck in Hell, Sinclair’s stuck without her, and the Anti-Christ is big-time peeved.