Peek into her unlife madness with the excerpt below. If you want to grab a copy, you can find the ebook for purchase at all major online retailers. Books2Read will show all retailer options, but here are a handful of direct links: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple Books, and Google.
Oh, and next spring, be on the look out for the final installment of the Devil Made Me series, Hell Of An Unlife.
The millionth time was the charm?
Throwing the doors wide, a flurry of activity greeted me, more than typical for the floor of lust. Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that this was indeed the second. “Crap.”
The huge common area was designed similar to a dorm. Large screen TV along one wall, the only allowed on our floor according to the inexplicable rules, and a kitchen on the opposite. Though the dead had no need to eat, many indulged in their favorite foods from life.
Anything to drive away the sense of emptiness, the lack of true emotions. A person only enjoyed items and activities they resolved to, and they turned it on and off like a light switch.
Except me. Ever since I’d arrived, I was an anomaly, longing stirring in my gut when my ex-boyfriend Jared was nearby. And occasionally contending with a comfort washing over me – a sensation I’d never experienced until my death.
Unique. That summed me up. Also the reason why Pandora had tapped me as her successor.
Actually, no longer a total aberration.
After I’d banished Dick, Jared and I admitted our love for each other. Emotions had overtaken him. A spark of life igniting in a realm where people sought to lose themselves when they could no longer bear to gaze at their reflections.
Now Jared was like me. No clue how or why, though. Not that I’d discussed it much with him.
And I refused to ask Pandora. Best she not know about it, anyhow. And if she already did, my lips were zipped unless she broached the subject. She kept too many secrets from me, so I’d keep a few of my own.
Screw her. And screw these crazy people on my floor.
An evergreen tree now towered in the corner near the bathroom – my hiding place of choice during my Welcomer shifts, since it was rarely used. Multicolored lights twinkled on the pine boughs, with half a dozen people adorning the branches with ornaments.
The sports freaks had been kicked off the TV, a shock in and of itself, and a holiday movie played on the screen. One of those romantic comedies, so trite that it proved nearly impossible to discern the difference between one or the other.
Sarah approached, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We decided to celebrate the holidays. Liven the mood a little.” She beamed, her excitement contagious. Almost.
I had a love-hate relationship with Christmas. Pretty much a noncommittal pagan, I never attended church, sticking to the secular side of the holiday.
No issues with a sparkling Yule tree, but I preferred spiked eggnog and mistletoe. Made life interesting.
On the other hand, I hated that nog because once I sobered up, I wallowed in the horrible decisions I’d made while under its influence. Including hooking up with Jared after we’d split – a mistake resulting in a ton of yelling and broken furniture the following day.
You see, on Christmas Eve the previous year, I’d caught him in bed with a friend. They’d both blamed the booze.
Jared and I had a horrible track record during the holidays. And we were now together again in this insane afterlife.
Hard to fault Sarah’s desire for a distraction, though. She’d died young, still a teenager. “Well, happy holidays.” I forced a smile, but it felt as fake as it was.
“Hey, Moira.” Naveah, our newest Welcomer, emerged from one of the doors leading to the endless hallways and rooms. And no, the irony of her name was not lost on me. “The buzz vibrated my brain, so I’m it. Has it been busy?”
“Nah. Even slower.” And with her appearance, my shift ended. “Have fun.”
Now to find my boyfriend. More teleporting attempts tomorrow. At the moment, getting laid sounded far more appealing.
No sign of Jared among the crowd of decorators, which had multiplied, spreading to bedecking the ceiling and counters. Man, it would look like Christmas threw up in here once they finished.
I slipped through one of the many doors, intent on changing. Then I’d check his room, which was connected to mine unless we were arguing.
Giggles led me around a corner.
And there stood Jared, his back to me, and a woman in a bright blue bustier leaning toward him, mistletoe in her outstretched hand. He laughed, and turned his head enough for me to spot a lustful grin on his face.
“Hell, no.” The pun failed to amuse me as usual, anger grabbing hold.
I wished my plastic pitchfork was metal, but it remained in its current tacky form. One of those stupid rules on our floor. Pity, because I yearned to skewer Jared to the wall.
Happy holidays... In Hell? Not with a cheating boyfriend.
The inhabitants of Hell’s second floor deck the common area for the holidays. Moira thinks them all crazy, though she enjoys a good cup of eggnog. Unfortunately, instead of drinking to her heart’s content, she discovers her boyfriend Jared in a compromising position with another woman and a sprig of mistletoe.
Moira’s anger whisks her off to the eighth, where she learns what Kara wants in return for helping her and Jared escape an angry mob of shysters a while back. To retrieve the woman’s grandson from limbo. Limbo, the first floor of Hell, where all the innocent souls land. Also the tamest floor, according to Pandora, the sexy-voiced cloud of a devil. But Kara insists it’s the opposite.
As the devil-in-training, Moira’s bound to the deal she made, and promises to rescue the child if the dismal rumor proves true. So she scopes out limbo, her definitely cheating boyfriend tagging along. Will she uncover a paradise in Hell, or finally stumble upon the brimstone?
One thing’s for sure. Between Moira’s relationship drama and sneaking around under Pandora’s nonexistent nose, she’s sure to have a terribly unhappy holiday.
