Hi guys! I’m happy to be a part of the Hellhole tour which is stopping by the blog today. I’ve got Gina Damico here with a funny guest post along with a giveaway! First, here’s what this book is all about:
Genre: Paranormal, YA
Publication date: January 6th 2015
by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
A devil is a bad influence . . .
There was a time when geeky, squeaky-clean Max Kilgore would never lie or steal or even think about murder. Then he accidentally unearths a devil, and Max’s choices are no longer his own. The big red guy has a penchant for couch surfing and junk food—and you should never underestimate evil on a sugar high.
With the help of Lore, a former goth girl who knows a thing or two about the dark side, Max is racing against the clock to get rid of the houseguest from hell before time, and all the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos this side of the fiery abyss, run out.
Guest Post by Gina Damico
What NOT to do if you meet a devil
If you meet a devil, I would advise against giving him snacks.
(That is, of course, assuming the devil you meet is a “he”. If you meet a female devil, nothing can help you. Just sit back, let her disembowel you, and call it a day.)
If you give a devil a Cheez-It, it won’t end there. He’ll want Cheetos. He’ll want Fritos. He’ll want Doritos. He’ll want Tostitos. That list of ingredients under Nutrition Facts? A checklist of a devil’s essential nutrients. Why do you think Hot Pockets rise to the temperature of hot molten lava? Because they’re meant to be even by INHABITANTS OF THE FIREY UNDERWORLD. Silly humans! Trying to eat scalding devil food!
Because think about it. Who do you think invented junk food in the first place? I think we can all agree that chocolate chip cookies were devised by none other than Evil Incarnate. (Wikipedia may try to convince you that some chick named Ruth Graves Wakefield from the Toll House Inn came up with them, but, as we all know, Wikipedia is really Hell’s propaganda machine.) How else can you explain the phenomenon of a normally rational, sane human being such as myself just sitting around the house, minding my own business, when the sudden urge strikes to run to the kitchen and whip up a batch of cookies and eat half the dough out of the mixing bowl and then bake them only halfway and then eat the messy melted blobs in an orgy of chocolate and sugar and insanity?
Therefore, should you be so unfortunate as to happen upon a satanic being in the course of your daily life, do not offer this being a cookie. Do not offer him a snack, or a bite, or a bag of “potato” chips. You are only adding fuel to the fire. You are only feeding his evil, salty-sweet desires. Stay strong. Do not give in.
And finally: do not, under any circumstances, alert him to the existence of candied bacon. You will have doomed us all.
About the Author
I grew up under four feet of snow in Syracuse, New York. I received a degree in theater and sociology from Boston College, where I was active with the Committee for Creative Enactments, a murder mystery improv comedy troupe that may or may not have sparked my interest in wildly improbably bloodshed. I have since worked as a tour guide, transcriptionist, theater house manager, scenic artist, movie extra, office troll, retail monkey, yarn hawker, and breadmonger. I live in Boston with my husband, two cats, and a closet full of black hoodies.
This post is part of the Hellhole blog tour.
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