flyby recommendation

[kaigou]

If you have a chance, pick up a copy of Requiem for the Devil by Jeri Smith-Ready. I found a copy on Fictionwise, but you can also get it on Amazon. The teaser goes like this:

Set in modern-day Washington, D.C., Requiem for the Devil depicts the end of the Devil's ten-billion-year career. For the first time in his existence, Lucifer falls in love, and this event threatens to transform his identity and perhaps even his destiny. Gianna O'Keefe is the woman who drags him out of his ancient despair and points him toward possible salvation. Yet Lucifer's path from evil is neither straight nor smooth. Pursuing love means betraying his fellow fallen angels, the loyal friends who once followed him to damnation. Divine and infernal forces seem to conspire against his and Gianna's union. Lucifer's empire crumbles around him as he dares to defy the natural order and question his fate.

But that doesn't give you half the sense of just how hysterical, snappy, and sharp this story is. It's basically a retelling of Faust (according to the author's intro/note), but man, this is no Faust I've seen before. It's got the same dry wit as the original Bedazzled, in some ways, with a heaping cupful of DC humor thrown in (along with a landmark or five), but it's also very... I'd say "adult" but that might give the impression I mean "erotic" in the "rated-R or worse" way, and that's not so. It's just adult in that the conversations, the dialogue, is not inane, but alternates between honest and honestly hedging in that way people have when they're old enough to have scars and don't care to spill everything but still want to make a connection... oh, and did I mention hysterical? I really haven't laughed out loud over a story in a long time, and certainly not one that I found in the "urban fantasy / paranormal romance" mashup section.

Well, I've found humorous stories, sure, and plenty that wanted to be humorous, but I guess this one just hits all the right notes. Here's a taste:

Later that day, Beelzebub and Mephistopheles called to tell me they were on the prowl for soft young female flesh. On a Friday night in Georgetown, that meant a trip to the Attic. The meat market dance club scene was beginning to bore me, but I decided to indulge them once more.

While waiting for them to arrive, I wrote another movement of my latest piano concerto. Now that the busy Halloween season was over, it was time to find another composer to torture. I planned to track down a starving unknown musician playing in a dilapidated bar, infect their mind with one of my melodies, then watch them never sleep again. They would go mad and eventually self-destruct, but not before releasing into the world a work of great beauty and terror, a work that would rock the foundations of humanity's faith.

"Are you ready yet or what?"

Beelzebub leaned against the doorjamb, his head cocked.

"You're late," I said.

"You're surprised." He bounced over to straddle the piano bench, facing me.

"Where's Mephistopheles?"

"He's out preening himself in front of the mirror in your foyer." He pronounced "foyer" with an exaggerated French accent. "He thinks he may have a piece of lint on his jacket." Before I could close the piano cover, Beelzebub knocked out a double-time version of "Chopsticks" on the minor keys.

"I love that tune." He smoothed a stray lock of blond hair under his baseball cap, worn backwards at an angle.

I glanced at his baggy pants and denim jacket. "You look like you're about twelve years old in that outfit."

"Hey, it's the style. It's what all the frat boy assholes are wearing these days."

I knew he intended "frat boy assholes" as a term of endearment. He was, after all, their king.

We walked into the foyer to find Mephistopheles. His face was inches away from the full-length mirror, and he seemed to be examining his teeth.

"Are my nose hairs getting too long?" he asked me.

I shouldered my way in front of him to comb my hair. "Fine, thanks, and you?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Lucifer. And how is Your Most Unholy Highness this fine evening?" Mephistopheles bowed and kissed the toe of my boot. I smiled at his sarcasm-coated respect. Sincere groveling has no place in my regime.

"Hey, Lou," Beelzebub said, "I know I ask this every time we go out, but-- "

"No, you may not be taller than me, even for one night." I looked at Mephistopheles. "New outfit?"

"You know it," he said. Mephistopheles burned clothes after wearing them once. Even his face changed subtly with the caprices of fashion. Over the past twenty years, his skin had grown darker, his nose broader, and his hair coarser. "Sort of a reverse Michael Jackson," he would say.

(There are a lot of funny parts from the story itself, but the stupid locked-ebook won't even let me cut-and-paste a section and I'm too lazy to type it in right now.)

The first chapter is posted on the Fictionwise page, which is where this bit's from. And just to make sure I'm not giving the wrong impression, a) the dialogue isn't all people saying exactly the right snappy thing so much as even the "ugh, did I say that" lines are refreshingly straightforward in a characterization sense, and b) I've not finished it yet, so there's always a chance the author hits chapter five and starts to suck. I really hope not, because the first five pages had me hooked and the fifty have me in stitches. So we'll see...