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A Damned Novel
LM Pruitt
Release Date: April 2017
All things truly wicked start from innocence.
—Ernest Hemingway
Book Description:
Being a demon isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Especially when you make a massive mistake your first month on the job.
Even more so when your sister is one of the all-star players on the other team.
Add in the rumors of not one but two coups and it’s not hard to see—something wicked this way comes….
I’d been wrong.
You could, in
fact, be overdressed.
And in my case,
I was very, very overdressed.
I tugged on
Barry’s sleeve until he leaned down. Pressing my lips to his ear, I whispered,
“Remind me to take your advice the next time you offer it.”
Every person in
the room, archangel and human/Winged, was wearing jeans and boots. Some wore
tank tops, others wore t-shirts or long-sleeved Henleys. Jackets were thrown on
a chair in the corner which looked as if it was set there specifically for that
purpose. Another corner had been turned in to some sort of nursery area, at
least a dozen children of varying ages occupying themselves with toys which
were, thankfully, quiet.
One by one, they
all turned to look at me and Barry—or really, just me. I doubted Barry was the
subject of the intense and blatant interest and scrutiny. I cleared my throat
and offered a half-hearted wave. “Hello.”
Joanne looked up
from the stack of papers in her lap and sighed. “Julie. Really?”
“What?” I lifted
my chin, crossing my arms over my chest and frowning. Maybe it was her more
than obvious disappointment, such a perfect mirror of my mother’s, but I was
immediately defensive. “What’s wrong with this? I wore this to one of the
country club events.”
“Which should
have been an indicator that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the most suitable
thing to wear.” She waved her hand around the room, which, while almost as
luxuriously furnished as Barry’s was definitely still a tent. “Is there
anything about this place which screams ‘country club’?”
“Or ‘ball’?” A
tall, lanky redhead who looked as if he had more questions in life than answers
laughed and shook his head. “We don’t have balls here.” He immediately closed
his eyes and sighed. “Please, please forget I said that.”
“Don’t worry
about it. I’m sure you’ll say something even stupider before the end of this
meeting.” Gabriel nodded at me from across the room. “Nice to see you not
looking like death warmed over.”
“You’ll have to
forgive my brother—he’s recently developed what might be called a morbid sense
of humor.” The man who seemed to always be within arms’ reach of Joanne stood,
crossing the room and extending his hand. “We’ve met before but I understand
you don’t remember me. I’m Michael.”
A vague memory,
distorted by alcohol and time, drifted to the forefront of my mind. Ignoring
his hand and narrowing my eyes, I said, “You mentioned something about
escorting me to hell.”
“To be fair, I
was annoyed at the time.” He lifted his brows, nodding pointedly at his still
extended hand. “And I don’t think you’re in a position to be commenting on
people’s manners given the male company you were keeping at the time.”
“Is there
anybody who doesn’t know about David?” I threw my arms up, my voice spiking in
annoyance. “Seriously, Joanne? Weren’t you the one who didn’t believe in
spreading gossip?”
“There’s a world
of difference between gossip and truth, Julie.” Her smile was far from amused.
“And you’re being rude to my husband.”
“Wait—I thought
the other one was your husband.” I glanced around the room, snapping my fingers
and pointing at the man locked in conversation with Gideon. “That one.
“Yes?” He looked
up, his eyes unfocused, his confusion obvious. “Did someone say my name?”
“Never mind. Go
back to curing cancer.” Joanne waved her hand absently, her attention focused
on me. “They’re both my husband.”
“Both of them?”
I spun to face Barry, watching the entire scene with no expression whatsoever.


About the Author:
L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she’s killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.