I have finally reached the point where I’m ready to publish the main book in my Hell and Earth series. I came up with the idea while working at my day job one day. It was a classic what-if scenario. What if the devil had a daughter with a witch? That’s how we I discovered Jane. Enough of my typing. Here’s your sneak peak!
After our meeting, I hopped on the highway and headed for Jersey. If I was going to visit as a regular old demon, I had to take the Demon’s Gate. Based on the smell, I could tell I was getting close. It smelled like rot, with a thick layer of sulfur. A lot of people thought that the smell was just Jersey. Others thought it was a nearby landfill. All of them were wrong. A hell mouth is a foul-smelling place.
I headed for the oldest graveyard. Our doorway was hidden in one of the crumbling crypts. There were no gargoyles or statues on the outside. It was gray and weather worn. The crypt unkempt, with ivy snaking up the walls. There was no lock on the door, but one of the large stone doors hung on the frame at an odd angle. It threatened to fall on anyone who passed beneath it. If the look and the smell of it weren’t enough to keep trespassers at bay, there was the silence.
Anyone coming within five feet of the crypt was enveloped in a suffocating silence. All other sounds faded away. It was so silent that I could hear my heartbeat. I pushed the broken door as it groaned and creaked in protest. It was pitch black inside, but I had been through this often enough to know where I was going. I walked straight about ten paces. When I stretched out my hand, I touched the back wall of the crypt. It was hot to the touch.
I reached under my jacket and pulled my dagger from the holster. A girl could never be too safe. I quickly sliced across the palm of my right palm. I grimaced at the pain, but it would be short-lived. I wiped my dagger on my jeans before placing it back in the holster. I cupped my hand to get a decent pool of blood, then dipped my fingers from my left hand into the blood and made the sigil for Lucifer on the wall.
The sigil began to glow, illuminating the crypt in red light. Then cracks began to appear, splintering out from the sigil. The cracks spread over the entire wall. The room began to shake. Pieces of the wall began to break off, falling back into an ever-widening red hole. When the entire wall had fallen away, black stairs heading down appeared. Dad always did have a flair for the dramatic.
I whispered a quick healing spell and watched the cut in my palm stitch itself back together. That would be the last of my white magic for a little while. I focused on the seed of evil that I was born with, and felt small horns push through my braids. I could change them depending on my mood. I chose a modest short black style to contrast with my shoulder length auburn braids. I took a deep breath and walked back into Hell.
Check out Hell With Dick and Jane (Hell and Earth Book 1)
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