Title: Before the Devil Knows You're Dead
Not Even Death Keeps a Good Demoness Down
There’s never an end to the crazy when you’re demon spawn. Not that Faith Bettincourt’s complaining. She’s been patching things up with her angelic on-again off-again boyfriend, Matt, and her best-friend-turned-sister-in-law is soon giving birth to the Anti-Christ Part Deux. Oh, and Faith is saving kids from Death in her pediatric unit one soul at a time. Life is good.
Until Faith accidentally runs over the Angel of Death and is forced to take his place. Now she’s taking lives instead of saving them. Which is kind of a problem when you’re a nurse. As if that weren’t bad enough, she is suddenly thrust into the worst scenario of them all--Matt’s ex Brenda is back, and she’s brought the Apocalypse with her.
Faith’s not about to give up the world...or her man. But when the chips are down, what’s a demoness supposed to do? Besides take matters into her own hands, of course.
Author: Patricia Eimer
Other books by this author that we've reviewed: Out of This World
Series: Speak of the Devil
Published by Entangled Publishing Source: Author
Published: February 25th 2014
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy
See the title at Goodreads
Purchase your copy: Amazon
Visit the Author's Website
When I first saw the cover of Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead and read the blurb, I figured this had to be a fun book. Little did I know how much fun! This is a quirky story with lots of characters to keep up. And what a collection it is! Wicked angels, good demons, Alpha and Omega (Otherwise known as God and Satan) just to name a few. Anyone who is a serious religious zealot probably will take offense to the liberties the author has taken. Me, I found it refreshingly comical.
When I first started reading Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead I felt a little lost. I knew this was a series but so many series nowadays are heavily depended on its previous titles. In this instance, it is. That is no fault of author Ms. Eimer. That was a complete my bad on that assumption. Once I got over the confusion I settle in for what I hoped was a good read. What I actually got was a GREAT read. What a plethora of fantastic characters! Between the good the bad and the questionably evil, easily my favorite character was Faith. If anyone is a trouble magnet, Faith is. The problems she gets into are many, and you would think it would be too much for a reader to absorb. I found all the chaos exhilarating funny. There were so many laugh out loud moments for me from her unable to get a date with her boyfriend Matt to her conversations with her cousin J (Short for Jesus!). So many fun twist and turns frankly, the hardest part about the book for me was putting it down.
While this book works adequately as a stand-alone, I believe it would have be easier for me to follow if I had the chance to read the previous books in the Speak of the Devil series. I thoroughly enjoyed this book so much so that I can’t wait to get my hands on the previous titles in this series. If you have a good sense of humor then grab yourself a copy of Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, sit back, relax and enjoy yourself.
The Joys of Mopping – or How One Neurotic Author Keeps Insanity At Bay
I have a confession to make. Some of you may have the same confession but I’m going to be the one outing myself today. I’m seriously in love with Orange is the New Black. I mainlined the series. I bought the book. I am anxiously awaiting Piper Chapman’s return to my Netflix screen and I’m bewildered that Laura Prepon may not be coming back for all of next season. (WTF? Honey, look at Katie Holmes—Tom Cruise is not the answer. Stay in Women’s Prison honey!!!!)
Yeah it’s hard to find yourself relating to a group of women in federal prison but the writers of this series are good enough that I found myself relating easily. Maybe that’s just me—there have been a few times in my life that things could have gone wrong, decisions could have been different, and I would have been the one in orange—but these women are relatable. They’re the people who live next door. The girls you hung out with in high school and college.
What blew my mind though was they have this character Suzanne, they call her Crazy Eyes, and she has a scene that just messed with my head. In it she’s doing the most mundane thing—she’s mopping. And when she’s asked why she said that her head gets in a snarl sometimes and mopping helps. The back and forth. Dirty becomes clean and her mind cleans itself out with it. And all I could think is OMG Crazy Eyes is ME.
Because the thing is, my editors know it, my husband knows it, a lot of people in my life don’t want to admit it, but I’ve been diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder. I throw up before radio interviews that I’m doing inside my bedroom while dressed in my favorite fuzzy pajamas. I get nervous at Parent –Teacher Night and I’ve got a good kid. I’m still terrified of walking into the parent waiting area of my daughter’s swim club because I’m afraid the mothers there will shun me—and FYI they’re really nice women—really, really nice women—who have never once been unfriendly. I think every book I’ve ever signed has a shaky signature from the way my hand shook. My husband calls the space where my legs go under my desk my safety cage.
Being an author is my dream job because most days I only have to deal with the people in my head and I know that if they judge me I can kill them in bloody, painful ways. And so do they. It keeps them in line.
But the real world? The real world I can’t hurt the people who scare me. I don’t want to hurt the people who scare me so I have to find other ways to deal. The best way for me? Like Crazy Eyes I’m a mopper. It’s like pacing but more productive. There’s a routine to it. I get my water and my bleach. I get my mop. The whole time I’m telling myself that all I have to do is find a way to wipe it clean, to cope, while I collect my supplies. I try doing that yoga breathing stuff without turning myself into a pretzel. Then it’s back and forth. Back and forth. The floor goes from dirty to clean. Even if I can’t see the dirt because I just mopped the floor the night before. Back and forth. And somehow my brain just stops. The thoughts slow down. Things just don’t seem so big anymore. So I keep mopping and those wrinkles in my head smooth out. Things seem to make more sense. They take on their proper perspective. And suddenly things become solvable. Or not solvable but bearable because sometimes things aren’t solvable. Either way I come out with clean floors and a marginally cleaner mind.
For those of you that are the same—diagnosed or undiagnosed—just know that you’re not alone. There are others of us out there that are just as scared as you are and we understand. We also want you to know that we totally dig how clean your floors are. One day maybe we can all get together and have a totally judgement free, anxiety-less indoor picnic but until then at least our floors are clean.
Patricia Eimer is a small-town girl fated to be a storyteller. After a stint of “thinking practically,” she earned degrees in Business and Economics, but her passion has always been a good book. She lives in Pittsburgh with her two kids and a husband who learned the art of frozen pizza to give her more time to write. When she’s not writing she can be found fencing or arguing with her dogs about plot points. Most days the beagle wins, but the dalmatian is a close second. She’s a distant third.