Luke Mephisto has carried the burden of Wrath since he was ten years old when his father was chosen as his generation’s Devil. Luke is certain it’s only a matter of time before that heavy crown falls on his own head. He is already a celebrated architect and currently designing the building of his dreams, one that will put him on the map for long after he’s gone. But there’s a new liaison with the client’s company and she’s ruining everything—coming to their meetings in her cute outfits and making kooky demands. And suddenly Luke doesn’t feel so wrathful anymore.
Mia avoids conflict in her life. She got plenty of that from her parents. But when she’s put in charge of her family’s new corporate headquarters, she takes a stand. She knows what she wants, and the surly architect will just have to deal with it. Underneath his grumpy exterior lurks a guy who makes her feel special, like her intelligence and talents are valuable. Except her nightmares have been especially hellish lately, and the Devil in her dreams looks an awful lot like her new boyfriend.
Book just released as the first in a new series
Chapter One
Eighteen years ago
Luke pulled at the collar of his brand-new dress shirt and stretched his neck, grimacing in misery. Six other ten-year-olds also milled about in the formal room of their ancestor’s home, most of them plucking nervously at their own fancy clothes.
He glanced at the double doors, thick and tall, stained dark brown. They were locked and had been for almost a half an hour. When he paced in front of them, which he’d done several times already, he’d not heard anything. There had been no voices raised in anger, no chanting, no screaming. He didn’t know what to expect exactly, but it seemed any decision this monumental would be louder.
“Are you scared?” His cousin Asher paused next to him, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets, and stared at the massive oak doors.
Luke shifted his weight and sighed. “No,” he lied.
“Me either,” Asher said, but Luke could practically smell how full of shit he was. “I do wish I’d eaten more, though. Now I’m starving.”
That Luke could agree with. “Maybe they’ll take us to get pizza after.”
Asher snorted. “If it’s neither of our dads.”
“It won’t be.” Luke sounded sure of himself. He was, mostly. Sort of.
“It could be,” Asher noted. “Odds are one in seven. It’s gotta be one of them. I bet its Uncle Albert.”
“Hey! I heard that.” Benji lurched forward from his seat on the sofa. He’d just turned ten last month and was the youngest of the cousins by several months, He was also the scrappiest. “Take it back.”
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German
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Already translated.
Translated by Jenny Riemer
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Cristina García
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