SYNOPSIS
You already know my name and, yes, I am
that Lucifer. Fall from Heaven, Garden of Eden, ruler of
Hell, Satan, the Devil, the Adversary, blah blah blah. I am the one you condemned without, what do
you call it? A fair trial. Forget what
you think you know: I want to tell my
side of the story. The Road to Hell is all about how a pathetic group of short-sighted
angels kicked me out of Heaven.
Humans are naturally curious and I
suspect you’re asking ‘why now?’ Well,
He has a book and it’s been pretty successful, so I figured what the hell? Found a ghostwriter and gave it a go. After all, the story is fantastic! It has everything you clods of dirt crave: a love story, a little sex, intrigue. Murder.
War. Lots of blood. And a cast of characters you already know and
love—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael—along with a host of others. Even has a special guest appearance by the
Father and that damned boy.
So, let’s get down to business or brass
tacks or whatever colloquialism works for you.
I have plenty to say and plenty of time:
The Road to Hell is just the
first in a series of novels about my experience with Him, with my brothers and
sisters, with you. If you’re interested
in featuring me, reach out to the pile of dust below; if not, well, I’ll see
you soon.
Excerpt from the Road to Hell:
Lucifer heard me: as soon as my feet
touched the glass surface of his platform, he laughed aloud and doused all the
light in Heaven.
“I know why you’re here, Raphael,”
Lucifer said in the darkness. “You’re afraid.”
I was afraid but I wasn’t willing to
admit it. Instead I said, “Why should I be afraid? The Father is with me.”
“You sure about that?” And I could see
Lucifer’s teeth glinting in the light wafting from my body. He was smiling.
“You think he’ll still back you up now that you’re failing him?”
His face was the color of fire, deep
and red, and a haze made him seem like a mirage. Even in the darkness, in the
heat of his rage, Lucifer was still beautiful. His thin face, the angular
cheekbones, his wide, open eyes, his halo of shimmering hair—all presented a
portrait of absolute perfection. Even in this dark hour, I envied the crude
formation of my own round face, my pudgy nose, the softness of my jawline.
I tried to sound as sure of myself, as
certain as he was but my voice cracked, “I’m not failing—”
He pounced on me, laid long, thin
fingers on my shoulders, pushed that gleaming grin into my face. “Sure you are!
Why else would you be here, Peace Keeper? Angels are dead, Raphael. It’s
slipping through your fingers. Sounds like failure to me.”
“This is your doing!” I pressed him
back.
“Raphael, you insult me; finger
pointing seems so…beneath you. Besides, I’m bound, remember?” He fondled the
chains streaming from his wrists and ankles, smiled at me again. “You chained
me up so I couldn’t cause any problems for the others. Weren’t those your
words?”
He was right. And I hated him for it.
“Yes,” was all I said.
“So you failed them or you failed him.
Either way, you’re a failure, kiddo.”
“I want to talk about what we do next.”
He was walking around me now. I could
hear the chains scraping the surface of the glass.
“And I want to talk about your fears,”
he said and his voice sounded like velvet in my ears.
“This
doesn’t help us, Lucifer. It doesn’t help us end this nonsense. ”
“Maybe I don’t want to end it. Maybe
this is exactly what we need.” He got
louder, bolder. Closer. “Does that scare you, Raphael, that you won’t be able
to keep it together? Is that why you tremble in the darkness? Because when it’s
just you and the Father and all the light and noise is gone, you know you’re
going to have to tell him you failed?”
He had me. I understood in that moment
how Lucifer could enflame the deepest of emotions. His words touched the very
root of me; spoke directly to the futility flexing in my palms. It was out of
my hands—I knew that much. Lucifer knew it too. By virtue of the fact that I
was there, standing before him while he taunted me, it was out of my hands.
I tried to turn it back on him, “What
about your fears? What about what you’re afraid of?”
“I’m scared,” he whispered, “that the
Father won’t want me back once I’m finished.” The smile was gone.
Christopher C. Starr is the author of The Road to Hell: The Book of Lucifer,
the first novel in the Heaven Falls series. These stories examine the God’s
relationship with Heaven and Earth, told through the eyes of the angels. The
next book in the series, Come Hell or
Highwater, is scheduled for late 2012/early 2013.
Chris makes it a point to look at the dark
side of his characters, both heroes and villains, and his work explores the
“grey”—that place where good and evil come together in all of us.
When he’s not being chased out of churches,
Chris enjoys comic books and movies, staying away from cemeteries, and poorly
participating in P90X. He lives in Seattle with his wife, two kids (The Boy and
the Honey Badger), and his huskies, Rocky the
Wonder Dog and his colorful sidekick, Leylah Redd. You can check out his blog
at christophercstarr.net.
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THE BOOK:
The
Road to Hell is available at:
Hey Tana--
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for having me on your blog. I really appreciate it!