Helena Black has been a very bad girl. She’s run away from home and stolen one of her father’s prize possessions as well. Now she is being followed by a voodoo priest, a reporter with a nose for a story and someone has dognapped her hellhound. The one she stole from her father. Not only that, but she may be falling in love with her neighbor. Too bad he’s human.
5.0 out of 5 stars.
February 12, 2012 by Surfer
This review is from: Hell in Heels (Hell Bent and Bound: Helena’s Story) (Kindle Edition)
Interesting read; riveting, fast-moving, compelling writing style. Read another book by this author (Tala) that prompted me to purchase this one. Once again, Morgan did not disappoint; her characters are funny, sexy, and hard as hell to ignore.
Sometimes I really hated the devil. I sat on the bed with my legs crossed delicately and waited for the morons holding me captive to bring me something to eat. The room itself was not bad; besides the bed, it also held a bucket I assumed was for me to handle personal business, although I didn’t think I would use it. No mirror, no vanity. But then again I was being held prisoner. So I guess that meant no amenities. There was a single window in the basement or backroom or…wherever I was and I could hear the sounds of the Miami nightlife. Cars sped by and I wondered briefly if we were close to a freeway. I was alone for the moment. It would have been easy to break out of here if I had my powers, but these bastards had given me alcohol, lots of it. And right now, I could barely think straight much less break out. The most I could probably do was send a small spell or two for help. And wait.
I sighed and tried to hug my arms around my shivering body. These assholes were trying to make me as uncomfortable as they possibly could and right now that meant turning the air conditioner to full blast and freezing my ass off. I could see my breath in the air and I shivered again. What kind of idiots would keep a woman locked up without any food or even water? I wasn’t really hungry, but I figured eating would give me something to do until I was rescued or until my father burned them to a crisp. Or at least until he convinced them to let me go.
I sighed again. Here I was, normally so independent, now relying on my father to help me. I closed my eyes and chanted, hoping that my captives did not ward the room. I watched, dismayed, when my spell bounced back. I sighed, remembering the days when wards weren’t so well known. Now you can find almost anything on the internet. Trust me. I checked. There were some wards that were well known, but I knew spells that could get around those wards and do what I needed them to do. Right now, I could feel the electrically charged energy around me that let me know someone knew something about warding, but not enough. I muttered another spell and watched it find a crack and slip through in a sizzle of red energy. Now all I had to do was sit back and wait. Daddy would be along shortly, even if I did run away from home.
For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Helena. Helena Black. And no, you cannot call me Hel. Trust me, I know Hel and that girl needs a serious makeover. I mean, drab black hair? In this century? She could definitely do better. But she is Hel, so I guess she should look like it. No pun intended. Actually, yeah, it was intended. Back to me. If you haven’t figured it out yet, my father’s the devil. No, really. The actual devil. Lucifer. Satan. Son of Perdition. Yadda, yadda. To me, he is just dad. He goes by Lucas Black when he is on earth which can lead some to confuse him with death. But if you saw his flaming red hair and the black eyes, you would know that death was not staring you in the face.
He’s not as bad as you would think, but he’s like every other father, constantly in my hair. He wants to know where I’m going when I leave the house and who I’m dating. The last time I told him about the demon I was in love with, I think he had the poor soul thrown into the pits at Tartarus. Needless to say, I didn’t get any more dates for a long time after that. I know what you’re thinking. The book never mentions a daughter. I mean really. Who wrote that book? Yeah, exactly. Do you really believe they would make Satan seem like a nice guy? It’s okay though. He’s still my father. I wonder if they really knew what he was like or if they just listened to rumors. Tales from angels who were too young to even know him. And people change, you know, well…demons can change too. He got older, realized that maybe, just maybe, trying to start a rebellion to overthrow your maker wasn’t the best idea. I really think the other guy understood. He could have destroyed my father but instead give him job basically running the mailroom.
You think Satan just chills in Hell? Hell is just his job. He is a family guy. He’s got to bust his ass and work. He’s got a wife and a couple of kids like every other regular guy. And he annoys us just like every other regular guy. So, if he is so cool why did I run away? Simple. I am a grown ass demon who has never been on her own because of an overbearing father and a mother who really doesn’t have a maternal mentality. So, whatever my father says goes, regardless if it makes sense or not. And half of the time, it really doesn’t make any sense. But there is no arguing with my father. He knows everything. Guess he didn’t change there.
My mother is Lilith. I won’t be surprised if you’ve never heard of her, but she would be pissed. She likes to remind everyone that she was Adam’s first wife and even after she was removed from the Garden, she never officially got a divorce. So Adam had committed polygamy. I rolled my eyes every time she told this story. Her version is that Adam wanted some other chick because he wanted her to cook and clean and bear children. If you’ve ever met my mother, you would know instantly that cook and clean was not a part of her repertoire. After the fall, she was the first human sent to Hell and I guess she and my father just hit it off. She does a damn good job though of being the devil’s wife. She acts like the wife of a politician and is just as underhanded. But I love her. Even if she is a heartless, scheming bitch. She is still my mother.
My brother managed to escape this lovely life by convincing father to have recruiting trips. So fucking smart. Father sends him all over the world to recruit. It’s harder than you think to get new arrivals. In order to go to Hell, you’ve got to believe in Hell. If you don’t believe, you don’t go. Others have different versions of Hell and Heaven and they go there. So, every couple of years to keep up our numbers, my brother pretends to be a televangelist or something and starts recruiting. That’s where he is right now. In LA. I think he’s doing well on this trip. Through Luc, I learned about the topside and the different places and things to do on Earth. That gave me the idea to run away. The first time I tried it though, I got it wrong and ended up in Maine. I lasted about two days before I had to call my father. Luc found it extremely funny, but my parents were pissed. I don’t think they ever really expected me to do it again. Which made it easier when I did. This time I landed in Miami. Lasted for one month before I let these morons capture me. Once again I had to call my father. I cocked an ear. I heard what sounded like screeches and bats outta…well, hell. I smiled. He was coming after all.