Working for the man upstairs stinks, but working with Samantha, an angel in training? Offensive!
Only one thing is so powerful, so dangerous that Heaven and Hell must work together to find it: the Shard of Gabriel.
With a mysterious Black Cloud of Death hot on the shard’s trail, a desperate Heaven enlists the help of Bartholomew, a demon who knows more about the shard than almost anyone. Six years ago, he had it in his hands. If only he’d used it before his coup to overthrow the Devil failed. Now, he’s been sprung from his eternal punishment to help Samantha, an angel in training, recover the shard before the Black Cloud of Death finds it.
If Bart wants to succeed, he’ll have to fight the temptation to betray Samantha and the allure of the shard. After an existence full of evil, the only way Bart can get right with Hell is to be good.
If I had to pick one word to describe this book, it would be FUN. Not fun like going swimming on a hot summer day, fun like boys shooting a cat with a BB gun, fun. Bart is a mischievous, self-centered demon who loves nothing more than causing trouble and enticing innocent souls to take a walk on the dark side. But he’s not as bad as he sounds. Bart is snarky and clever, and at times even – dare I say – loveable. (But don’t tell him I said that or mass nun-punching will ensue.) This book had me rolling from page one. Hill creates such a thorough, full world where supernatural beings roam the world, wreak havoc, and jack-up black market prices. Bless it all!
If you’re looking for a story full of thrills, mystery, humor, and virgin-ogling, then this is the book for you. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the virgins.)
At the moment, there were only little kids running around with tired-looking teachers trying to corral the pint-sized buggers.
We sped through the intersection as cars darted in either direction like the most intense game of Frogger ever.
The anger rose up in me so fast my horns nearly pushed out of my head.
She closed her eyes and waved the smoke off, like the smoke would blind her if it touched her corneas.
We were quickly swarmed by the most detestable group of humans this side of Nazi Germany: teenagers.
Was there anything as ridiculous as paying to get into a bar, aside from maybe burgers made out of black beans?
I liked to operate on a plane of existence that bordered on the surreal and avoided serious conversations about things like life, spirituality, and the perfect bra size.
Forgive and forget. That was one of the angels’ mottos. I preferred to revenge and remember, but that’s just me.
Surviving all these attempts on my life made me feel like Tony Soprano, except much better looking.
She’d gotten me out of Hell in the first place and, much as it irked me being in debt to some pseudo-angel, whatever code I existed by wouldn’t allow me to leave her to writhe for all eternity in Hell or Detroit or wherever she would end up if we failed.
**Content: Some language, crassness, frequent mentions of deflowering virgins, and references to Hitler.
(Not sure if this is a content warning or something Bart would consider a badge of honor.)
About the Author
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