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DEMONS PREFER BLONDES

Killer new haircut? $50
Creepy antique chest? $100
Unleashing Hell on Earth? Priceless!

Coming June, 2o11 from Sourcebooks

From Chapter Three:

"Let's do this," Lucy said, pulling from their friendly embrace. With a quick lick of her lips, she focused her attention back to the chest.

As if a golden orb had surrounded it, the chest glowed. Regardless of what she knew to be wrong or right, her body ignored her conscience. Lucy took slow, almost sensual, steps toward the box. Her lips spread into a devious smile as warmth enveloped her. Never had she felt so alive—save for the day she dropped out of med school. Her stomach twisted in knots and her insides throbbed. She had to touch it, and no one would stop her.

Serah's concerned voice faintly echoed in her mind. "Lucy, are you okay? You're acting strange." She reached out to grab her hand.

"I am fine," Lucy gritted out, digging her nails into Serah's palm. "I know what I'm doing." The bad thing was she actually did, but she had no idea how she knew.

"Ouch, that hurts," she yelped and pulled her hand from her superhuman grip. "We should forget this, Lucy. Something isn't right."

Lucy turned to face her friend and narrowed her eyes, her glare challenging.  With a wide calculated grin, she reached up to brush a stray hair from Serah’s brow. "No, Serah. Everything is just right."

With that, she slammed her palm into the handprint and closed her eyes.