Hell Becomes Her, the latest book in R.A. McCandless’ Flames of Perdition series, releases Thursday, November 19th. Here’s what all the fuss is about:
Angels should be a human’s worst nightmare. Del didn’t think there was anything worse than angels, or their fallen kin, demons. She and her partner Marrin helped to keep the world safe from the horrors of escaped demons
for generations. But when Del’s daughter is kidnapped by a shadowy group, Del will find that the world is even more dangerous than she suspected.
There are worse things than angels and demons.
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| Release Thursday, November 11th |
Excerpt
The doors slid back exactly as they were supposed to, and Del pointed both her SIGs through the opening. She knew it was wrong. Two hands on one gun with a straight-thumbs hold was the correct way to give proper support to aim and shoot quickly and consistently. Hollywood liked to show action heroes shooting from the hip, or blasting away without aiming and taking down a room full of bad guys, whose best response was to fire impotently at the ceiling or comically into other bad guys. It was all so much useless eye candy. A gun in each hand gave support to neither and made it impossible to sight. She’d need independent use of each of her eyes, like a chameleon, to train the guns on different targets at the same time.
Del knew it was wrong, but it looked damned impressive from the receiving end.
“Hold your fire!” a voice commanded from outside the elevator. “Hold your fire!”
Del wasn’t certain if the order was for her, the two ranks of Ljosalfar soldiers in their body armor who surrounded the elevator, or both. Either way, holes weren’t being punched into her favorite skin and that was a good thing. She might still die, riddled with bullets and spitting blood, but not yet. Not yet.
She unwrapped and wrapped her fingers on her SIGs, and smiled.
“Hello boys,” Del said. “Who wants some?”
“Hold your fire!” Alfred Waru said again.
“Alfred, you cunning bastard,” Del purred. “Come on in and give me a hug. I’ve solved almost all your problems. There’s only one left.”
“I’d rather you put down your weapons,” Alfred replied. Del homed in on his voice from behind the second rank of soldiers, but couldn’t make him out through all the helmets. “We’ve locked the elevator. The doors won’t close, and the car won’t move. Let’s talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” Del said and laughed. “How you lied to your people? How you betrayed and murdered your own? How you’ve doomed them through your schemes and plots?”
