Title:
The Good Demon
Genre: YA Paranormal
Word Count: 87,000
Query:
High school can be hell, even for a demon whose
combination of good looks, taste in clothing and general malaise toward all
things sweet is unparalleled.
Six years ago, Bartholomew was sentenced to the
seventh circle of hell because of a failed coup. When Lucifer suspends his
punishment to find the Shard of Gabriel, a powerful relic that gives one the
knowledge to rule the world, he sees his chance for escape. Of course, the
demon could fail and be busted to the torturous ninth circle of hell, but
Bartholomew is focusing on the positive.
Bartholomew’s confidence is tested when he’s forced to
partner with an angel. There’s nothing like a heavenly chaperone to drain the
fun out of being a demon.
Chased by a mysterious monster, the search for the
Shard leads the unlikely duo to go undercover at high school, where a rumor can
be the difference between popularity and death.
First 250:
The nerve.
One minute you’re in hell, minding your own business,
getting your ass pummeled by every demonic being that fancied a go, and the
next you’re shown the door and back on the ethereal plain without even the
common decency of being escorted out by security. At least they could have
warned me about the transfer first.
I opened my eyes. I was in a dark alley, completely
naked. I coughed, emitting a small black cloud from my lungs. Every inch of my
body felt like it’d been put through a meat grinder then nibbled on by a
thousand cockroaches. My stomach was sick and heavy, much like it would’ve been
the day after eating Tex-Mex. Even my bones vibrated like a tuning fork. What
was I doing back on Earth? Obviously someone had sent me here—you don’t
suddenly get excused from a sentence in hell, even for a short frolic in the
mortal world to stretch your legs. And especially not with a sentence like
mine. I’d tried to take down the big man and failed. It took everything I had
to keep them from adding an endless Highway to Heaven marathon to my
punishment.
No, someone had struck a deal to get me out. But who?
And for what?
Not even the chalk message on the brick wall provided
a clue:
Bartholomew. Take the bag and clothes. Go home. More
details to come.
That’s it. No name, no date, nothing. I didn’t even
know the year.
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