Assault Angel by Beth Grayer (Holy Hell Book 1)
English | 2020| Fantasy | ePUB |3.0 MB
Heaven just made her an offer she can’t refuse.
Long dead and fresh out of Purgatory, Gretchen knocks at the pearly gates, only to be clapped in irons and tossed into the dungeon by St. Peter himself.
It seems Heaven’s never heard of her. And without their protection, she’ll be thrown to the dogs—literally. Lost souls end up as kibble for the Hellhound Hunt.
Her only hope? A work visa. Gretchen signs on as an angelic recruiter with a quota. She has to save one soul before the week is out.
But her assigned target keeps getting himself un-saved. What’s more, he’s a hitman for the mob.
Gretchen, a scrappy tomboy who thinks with her fists, and her new partner, a MILF with a heart of gold, will have to keep him alive long enough to change his mind for good.
That’ll be tricky in the midst of two feuding mafia clans, a cabal of demons, and a pack of hellhounds all set to clash over a stash of divine contraband.
A demon illusionist with a familiar face is about to light the fuse on this powder keg. If Gretchen wants to save herself and her new friends, she’s just gonna have to beat ‘em to the punch.
Peter—that Peter?—nudged his sunglasses back down onto his nose. “This is mercy. I could cut this ticket up and let the hellhounds get her. I’ve got no obligations to someone who isn’t one of our own.” Peter held out the ticket. One of the guards took it as he and his fellow grasped Gretchen by the upper arms.
“But the angel promised!” Hanging by her arms from the guards’ grip, Gretchen kicked out and nailed one of them in his armored shin. Unfortunately, the armor did its job.
“What angel?” Peter asked. “Who gave a ticket to someone whose name is not on the list?”
“I didn’t get his name,” Gretchen said. “He was very theatrical. He liked to—” she waved her hands, indicating an excessive amount of posturing.
Peter and the woman shared a glance.
“What?” Gretchen said. “What does that mean? Is that bad?”
“There was an angel a few decades ago who was removed from the recruiting team,” the woman said delicately. “He was a bit overenthusiastic.”
“Not my problem,” Peter declared. “Administration can handle it. Take her to the dungeon.”
Instantly, a heavy cloth dropped down over Gretchen’s head. “Hey!”
“Only souls whose names are on the list may gaze upon the streets of Heaven,” the pompous little man said, his tone of voice awfully smug now that Gretchen was safely restrained.
The guards picked Gretchen up and hauled her away, and she heard the woman call, “Chin up, dear! I’m sure it will all work out just fine.”
Gretchen did not go quietly. By the time the soldiers deposited her onto a cool floor and slammed the door, she and they had managed a great deal of mutual damage. Gretchen ripped the sack off of her head to find an ugly bruise on her side and a large bump on her head. But she was pleased to see that the guards were retreating down the hall with synchronous limps.
Looking around, she found herself in a room so luxurious that it took several minutes for her to realize that she was actually in a dungeon cell. The walls and floor sported pearly gray tiles, and the bars along one wall gleamed gold. Upon investigation, the bed revealed itself to be made of down and the finest cotton linens. Gretchen investigated the bed for a few more minutes, clutching the squishy pillow as she rubbed her head and examined her side. They were both healing quickly.