Table of Contents
Praise for
Kiss and Hell
“A fun, lighthearted paranormal romance that will keep readers entertained. Ms. Cassidy fills the pages of her book with nonstop banter, ghostly activity, and steamy romance.”
—Darque Reviews
“Delaney, with her amusing sarcastic asides, makes for an entertaining romantic fantasy with a wonderful mystery subplot . . . Readers will relish this lighthearted jocular frolic.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Cassidy has created a hilarious lead in Delaney Markham. Readers will run through all types of emotions while enjoying laugh-out-loud moments, desperate passion, wacky and fun characters, pop-culture references and one intense mystery. The book’s charm is apparent from the first page, but the twisted mystery tangled throughout will keep the pages turning.”
—Romantic Times
The Accidental Human
“I highly enjoyed every moment of Dakota Cassidy’s
The Accidental Human
. . . A paranormal romance with a strong dose of humor.”
—Errant Dreams
“A delightful, at times droll, contemporary tale starring a decidedly human heroine . . . Dakota Cassidy provides a fitting, twisted ending to this amusingly warm urban romantic fantasy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The final member of Cassidy’s trio of decidedly offbeat friends faces her toughest challenge, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t humor to spare! With emotion, laughter, and some pathos, Cassidy serves up another winner!”
—Romantic Times
Accidentally Dead
“A laugh-out-loud follow-up to
The Accidental Werewolf
, and it’s a winner . . . Ms. Cassidy is an up-and-comer in the world of paranormal romance.”
—Fresh Fiction
“An enjoyable, humorous satire that takes a bite out of the vampire romance subgenre . . . Fans will appreciate the nonstop hilarity.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
The Accidental Werewolf
“Cassidy, a prolific author of erotica, has ventured into MaryJanice Davidson territory with a humorous, sexy tale.”
—Booklist
“If Bridget Jones became a lycanthrope, she might be Marty. Fun and flirty humor is cleverly interspersed with dramatic mystery and action. It’s hard to know which character to love best, though: Keegan or Muffin, the toy poodle that steals more than one scene.”
—The Eternal Night
“A riot! Marty’s internal dialogue will have you howling, and her antics will keep the laughs coming. If you love paranormal with a comedic twist, you’ll love this book.”
—Romance Junkies
“A lighthearted romp . . . [An] entertaining tale with an alpha twist.”
—Midwest Book Review
More praise for the novels of Dakota Cassidy
“The fictional equivalent of the little black dress—every reader should have one!”
—
Michele Bardsley
“Serious, laugh-out-loud humor with heart, the kind of love story that leaves you rooting for the heroine, sighing for the hero, and looking for your own significant other at the same time.”
—
Kate Douglas
“Ditzy and daring . . . Pure escapist fun.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Dakota Cassidy is going on my must-read list!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“If you’re looking for some steamy romance with something that will have you smiling, you have to read [Dakota Cassidy].”
—The Best Reviews
Berkley Sensation titles by Dakota Cassidy
KISS & HELL
MY WAY TO HELL
THE ACCIDENTAL WEREWOLF
ACCIDENTALLY DEAD
THE ACCIDENTAL HUMAN
ACCIDENTALLY DEMONIC
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2010 by Dakota Cassidy.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. BERKLEY
®
SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / July 2010
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cassidy, Dakota.
My way to hell / Dakota Cassidy.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed. p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-18846-0
1. Demonology—Fiction. 2. Chick lit. I. Title.
PS3603.A8685M9 2010
813’.6—dc22 2010005993
http://us.penguingroup.com
With never-ending thanks to my BFFs, Renee George, Terri Smythe, and Michele Bardsley. Dudes, for serious, you rule. Also, my test readers and pals, Vicki Burklund, Amy, Qwill, Kaz, and Erin—your input is invaluable.
My agent, Elaine Spencer, who knows when I’m riding a good freak and tells me to shut it. That, in an agent, is invaluable, people.
Cindy Hwang because she lets my crazy run hog wild.
My Yahoo! groups—the Accidentals and the Babes. You’re priceless—don’t evah change. I love you more than my facial cream. You all know what moisturizer means to this old broad. And to a special member of our group, Bill. You’ve been there since the beginning, babe, and you’re all kinds of awesomeness.
My pal Kaz, who flies in for my book signings and answers my e-mails when I need a naughty word in Spanish.
Rob, my soul mate, who suffers my greasy-haired, unwashed-laundry, unwaxed-eyebrow whines—I love you—like a buttload.
But most especially to the lovely Pat Richardson from the DFW Tea Ladies—because everyone deserves big, honkin’ hooters and a hot pair of legs, sistah!
acknowledgments
Please note, any and all mistakes regarding the quotes, dates, and/ or history of the sports icons and celebrities used in this book are entirely mine.
one
“Your breath smells like the stench of a thousand rotting souls,
muchacho
.”
“And your dress is no more a designer label than I am a perky Bichon Frise.”
“At least if you were a Bichon you’d be easier on the eye and drool less.”
“But you, my little cheesy enchilada, would still be just as tacky.”
Marcella Acosta pointed the Rottweiler’s—the
talking
Rottweiler’s—muzzle away from her nose with one finger. “If I were you, Darwin, I wouldn’t point fingers. Oh, wait, I mean paws. Because you have no fingers, do you?”
Darwin reared his head out of her reach, letting his tongue loll from his wide mouth. “Nope. But I still have excellent fashion sense—even fingerless. I don’t need those to tell me your dress is horrifying, darling.”
“I don’t need fingers to slap you in the head,
mijo
.”
“True that. But you do need them if you’re ever going to make contact with anyone other than me. Something you sincerely suck sweaty balls at since you were allegedly banished to this hot mess. Mock all you like, but at least I can travel from plane to plane. You?” He gave her a pointed doggy look. “Not so much.”
Anger, sharp and stinging, seared her gut while she slid down the trunk of a leafless tree. “Fuck. You.”
“Not even if you were a fluffy French poodle who was leash trained, potty mouth.” He turned his chocolate brown eyes on her and gave his “so over this” look, then yawned, revealing his big, white teeth.
Marcella leaned into him, nudging his black, squat haunches. “You know, Darwin, each day I spend with you on this godforsaken plane I’ve been banished to is like shopping for Jimmy Choo shoes at Payless. Im-fucking-possible.”
His big rust and black head cocked to the left. “You’re just cranky because you’ve been wearing that hideous dress for three straight months. You do realize, now that you’re doomed to roam this plane, with only occasional relief when some half-baked medium mistakenly summons your spirit to Earth, that shopping trips are a thing of the past for you, yes? That is, unless you get off your vivacious, tight ass and do something about it. Too bad, so sad. Guess you’ll be in the wrong color for the rest of your nonlife. Your nonlife being
eternal
, and all.”
Marcella flicked a finger in the air aimed at his wet, cold nose. “Care to tell me again how it is you, a dog, can
talk
on this plane? Just until I figure out how to rip your esophagus from your throat, that is.”
“Care to tell me how it is that you, a one-time not even level-one demon, thought you could throw down with Lucifer and win?”
Marcella smoothed a hand over her wrinkled, torn dress and stuck her tongue out at him despite the fact that it was childish and petty. “Go to hell,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth, letting her head rest on her knees. She’d thrown down with the horned one for one reason and one reason only.
Her closest friend, Delaney.
Okay, so she’d been her only friend.
In seventy-six years of demonicness.
And since that infamous, albeit totally humiliating, utterly defeated smackdown with the aforementioned king of evil, she’d been in her own special hell.