The Original Sin Contest

Here's your chance to win a copy of an ARC of Original Sin which isn't out until July 5th!

Here's what you've have to do.

Write a story, one hundred words or fewer, using these words:


Bonus Points if you use the phrase "A Devil's Own"

Contest open internationally. It starts NOW, and runs through midnight Thursday May 5th. Post your entry in the comments section.

Enter as many times as you want.

PERSONAL DEMONS series, book 2
Luc Cain was born and raised in Hell, but he isn't feeling as demonic as usual lately--thanks to Frannie Cavanaugh and the unique power she never knew she had. But you can't desert Hell without consequences, and suddenly Franie and Luc find themselves targeted by the same demons who used to be Luc's allies.

Left with few options, Frannie and Luc accept the protection of Heaven and one of its most powerful angels, Gabe. Unfortunately, Luc isn't the only one affected by Frannie, and it isn't long before Gabe realizes that being around her is too...tempting. Rather than risk his wings, he leaves Frannie and Luc under the protection of her recently aquired guardian angel.

Which would be fine, but Gabe is barely out the door before an assortment of demons appears--and they're not leaving without dragging Luc back to Hell with them. Hell won’t give up and Heaven won’t give in. Frannie's guardian exercises all the power he has to keep them away, but the demons are willing to hurt anyone close to Frannie in order to get what they want. It will take everything she has and then some to stay out of Hell's grasp.

And not everyone will get out of it alive.

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LadyVampire2u said...

Title "Looking Like Hell"

Wally was a mage that conjured demons as an hobby. He used the demons to hurt those who had done personal wrongs to him. Wally knew it was a sin but didn’t care. However everything comes back to haunt you, and the demons cursed him. Wally began to turn into a demon. Angry, Wally planned a dangerous retaliation. He was hellbent on using A Devil’s Own original curse back on them. Months of preparation worked, Wally’s spell changed the demons….to look uncannily human!! That’s why so many people don’t recognize demons. Wally’s spell worked too well and traded his humanity.

LadyVampire2u AT gmail DOT com

Nicole Zoltack said...

"A devil's own personal lava pit?" Kari asked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." Ryan smiled, as handsome as sin. "After all, demons don't like to swim."

"That really is an original business plan, but how're you going to get the word out?"

He stepped closer to her, and Kari backed up, not liking the glint in his eye. Ryan whipped out a dagger and stabbed her.

Kari fell, bleeding profusely. "W-why?"

"I'm hellbent on making this work. You tell the demons about the pit."


"Go to hell, Kari." He stabbed her again until she died.

Monika Pardon said...

Fifteen-year-old Amelia Robinson became pregnant. Her God-fearing parents immediately blamed Amelia for the pregnancy. They who adamantly believed that Amelia committed a sin nearly grievous as the original sin brought her to Reverend Trask, a demonologist who performed a liberal amount of exorcisms. The Reverend believed that Amelia was carrying what he considered to be “a devil’s own” child; though, he knew the truth. Amelia had been raped by the Reverend, a demon at heart. Poor Amelia, she became hellbent on escaping her own personal hell that she walked to Widow’s Peak, overlooking the monstrous ocean, jumped to her death.

Taryn said...

We live in a world of water, so disliking swimming is a sin marking me as the devil's own. I never liked splashing through the surf to visit my friends. And when I got old enough for Dad to make me one of his original water beds, I bawled, refusing to sleep in it. But my distaste got dangerous when Mom tried to cast out my demons, hellbent on proving life as a "landlubber" was a sin.

Even though I knew it wasn't original, I swam away. I’m 200 knots from Reefton now, but I think I see the shore.

Email: tarynalAThotmailDOTcom

Marc said...

At the age of ninety-one, Nana decided it was her duty to sniff out the sins of our neighbors. Mom said it was my personal duty to keep an eye on her.

“There’s that kid again!” people would shout as I shadowed Nana.

“It’s not me,” I protested. “I’m just following Nana.”

“Well, that’s original,” retorted Natasha, the devil’s own doppelganger. “Stop peeping in my windows!”

Hellbent on getting Nana home safely, I just mumbled, “Stop fornicating with demons, then.”

Mom was waiting for us. “You have to say good-bye to Nana, sweetie. It’s time she went to the vet.”

Sra said...

I know my opinion probably doesn't count here, but my vote is for Nicole Zoltack, the second commenter.

Dag. That one sure got my attention.

Leah Goodreau said...

“Demons? Oh, very original.”
“Hey, you did ghosts last night, and if I even mention vampires they giggle like spastic hyenas.”
Mom sighed heavily. “I just don’t see how those kids got so hell-bent on horror. They haven’t slept through the night in weeks.”
“It’s your fault. Poe does not a good bed-time story make.”
“Listen, young lady, that’s getting personal. I was just trying to give them some variety.”
“The Tell-Tale Heart? That’s not variety, that’s terrifying. The line between guilty pleasure and sin isn't as thin as you think it is.”
“Then just call me a Devil’s own.”

Leah Goodreau said...

A devil’s own son. The healer took the squealing newborn in his arms; the father, the enemy, haunted his mind like hidden sin.
An act of violence had conceived the babe, left the mother in shame, battling her own demons. This boy was his responsibility. His original intention was to destroy the child before birth. Only the mother’s personal plea had dissuaded him.
As he carried the boy into his hut, the babe clutched the healer’s hair with his tiny fingers, his cries voicing their own plea. The healer regarded him. “Could you truly be as hellbent as your father?”

Blue Sage said...

“It’s a downright sin to whine how hard your life is.” Gertrude’s hand slipped into her apron.
Her daughter-in law’s face contorted with rage. “You know nothing about my suffering, you withered old hag. Tom worshiped you until he died, and now you sip your old fashioneds and swing that cigarette like some beehive queen.”
“I’ve had my demons, missy, and if you weren’t so hellbent on seducing the Devil’s own spawn every night, you’d see good in people. Not me, of course. I’m evil.”
Gertrude figured the breast-shot wouldn’t be original, but it certainly was effective.
“Nothing personal, dear.”

debbi said...

The office door slammed.
“I know you’re hellbent on your way, but changing a song lyric is not a sin,” Arnie sputtered.
“Wrong,” Emerald spat back, jumping on the desk. “My songs are original, personal.” Her green mohawk glittered as brightly as the dagger she placed against his throat. “Do. Not. Change. One. Word.”
“Okay,” he whispered. She glared at him, withdrawing her blade then storming out.
Arnie wiped the sweat from around his horns. One of five demons working for A Devil’s Own Productions, he’d need to get over his fear of the human musicians, soon.

Katherine Tomlinson said...

“I want to talk to you about Original Sin,” the minister said. Timothy groaned. It was hard enough to entice Lizabeth into submitting to sex but once “Original Sin” entered the bedroom, he knew any action he got would involve his left hand and a bottle of the peach-scented lotion she bought by the quart.

He’d been hoping for a more innocuous topic like. “How to deal with personal demons,” but Lizabeth was hellbent on explicating “Original Sin.”
Tim powered up his laptop as soon as Lizabeth was asleep and logged on to Religious porn was his kryptonite.

Taryn said...

“Liz, I think you mixed your religion homework with your trig,” Ben waved her over and pointed to the paper.

“Sine, not sin!” she smacked his head. “God, get over that joke—it wasn’t even original the first time you used it.”

“Don’t make it personal, woman. You’re getting hellbent out of shape—”

“It’s just bent out of shape,” she snapped.

He grinned. She was cute all red and fume-y. “I thought it fit, since last time I did the trig joke, you called me the devil’s own demon.”

She groaned and tore the paper from his grip.

Alex said...

Pointedly ignoring his personal demons, and embracing his public ones, Republican Congressman from Texas Billy Bob Compton was literally hellbent for an election. A devils own spawn could not be more evil. His list on the sin column included all the usual ones from original to deadly, plus a few he invented to keep his focus sharp and stay on target. But there was nothing that could stop this “regular Joe” now. With the words: “I accept the nomination for president of the United States”, the world's fate was sealed.

WriterChick said...

I hate doctors. And here I was about to meet a new one to check my personal lady parts. The crinkle paper under my ass was hellbent on moving. Who knew what demon’s disease lurked on the original vinyl.
There was a tap on the door.
I sucked in a breath, and my stomach, as the “hot as sin” doctor appeared in the doorway.
“Hello Mandy,” he said checking his chart.
“Hello Doctor,” I breathed. This man could be the “Devil’s Own” and I’d let him touch me.
“Let’s get started,” he said pulling a pitchfork from behind his back.

Unknown said...

He tugs on my arm, pulling me further into the alley. Again, I wonder why he’s taken such a personal interest in this club. Why did we have to come here tonight, when the Blood Moon hung low in the sky? Demons walked the earth when the moon was bathed in red, like a devil’s own playground of sin. The door looms ahead, HELLBENT painted across it. How very original. He knocks. The door creaks open and his teeth gleam under the moonlight, growing long and lethal. I cry out, but it’s already too late. I’m dragged into the dungeon.

The Writer said...

"Maybe they were right, Nora," Sarah says between heavy breaths. Her blond locks are matted with sweat.
"They?" My shaking hands press hard against the door, locking it just in time.
"Those preachers on TV that talked about Original Sin. Maybe our immorality really did cause all this."
I roll my eyes. After three straight blocks of running, I hardly feel like getting philosophical. "Our morality turned the town into zombies, hellbent on ripping our flesh apart? I don’t think so. The only personal demons we have to face now are the one's trying to knock down the door."

KimberlyFDR said...

Sid was a devil's own handyman and he took great pride in that fact. Anything that needed fixing, from massaging reality to snuffing an enemy out of existence, he'd do it. All the other demons aspired to be in his place, but they were weak and held back when it mattered most. Instead of letting an order weigh on his conscience, like they would, he took personal pride in every hellbent mission of revenge and death he wrought. Sure some of his tactics weren't original, but the classics of sin never got old. He was the best for a reason.

LeeAnn Flowers said...

“Can I be personal here?”

Why ask now? I thought as I dug through the original manuscripts on the desk.

“What’s with this hellbent tendency toward zombies, vampires, werewolves, angels, and demons recently?” she asked.

“How is that personal?”

She shrugged. “Well, it just seems like you enjoy the sin aspect of all these stories.”

I finally looked at her. “I’m a science fiction and fantasy editor. It’s my job.”

Glaring at me for my flippant answer, she snapped, “You just seem to have a devil’s own time with that garbage!”

“Yes, I do. Now please, let me be, Mother.”

SkipaChip said...

They believed she was a devil’s own. She believed they were stuffy and boring.

Without an original thought in their heads, they worked liked demons; hellbent on meeting the deadline. It was like that the first days of the month. It was always like that. It was their way.

She was different. They sensed it and regarded her with distrust. “Why did she do it? Who does she think she is?” they asked.

Of course, they would never understand. It was too foreign to them. They were accountants. To them, taking a personal day during month-end close was the absolute Sin.

Xander Pike said...

The old man looked like hell, bent over grasping for the bloody knife.
He still had no idea it was me, his own flesh and blood. How could he? I’d changed, like some sort of Jekyll and Hyde monster.
I thought of my hatred, its origin, a long time ago. No man should treat his own with such disregard.
“I’m your…” I started, adding in a whisper, “son.” A last gasp of breath exited his lungs. His eyes showed he finally understood.
With this single act of revenge was I free? Or had evil’s ownership of my soul become complete?

(All the words are there. Read it again.)

The old man looked like hell, bent over grasping for the bloody knife.
He still had no idea it was me, his own flesh and blood. How could he? I’d changed, like some sort of Jekyll and Hyde monster.
I thought of my hatred, its origin, a long time ago. No man should treat his own with such disregard.
“I’m your…” I started, adding in a whisper, “son.” A last gasp of breath exited his lungs. His eyes showed he finally understood.
With this single act of revenge was I free? Or had evil’s ownership of my soul become complete?

Katherine Hazen said...

I shoulda been used to it. Momma always was hellbent on crusading against me dating, like she was going to prevent Eve from committing original sin.

But this was different. This wasn’t just some boy who’d asked me out. It was Tyler Cunningham.

Mama gossiped about the Cunningham’s like they were the devil’s own. My family of all people shoulda known about demons. We kept our’s hidden from prying eyes, but they were intent on making their business personal.

That was okay, mine was trapped safely in my locket as I shimmied down the drain pipe to meet Tyler.

LeeAnn Flowers said...

She crouched on the crosspiece of the bridge, folded wings brushing against her thighs. The other demons wouldn’t think to look for her here, blinking into the afternoon sun. There was change in the air, something that had been sending the others hellbent for whatever shelter they could find. The divergence was tangible, vibrating the metal support and tickling her feet.

Lyria hated being an original, but that’s what came of having gone through a personal conversion. She’d had the devil’s own time trying to fight off her sin nature, but it had been worth it.

At least until today.

Al said...

Her dreams flashed violently before her fluttering eyes as she wavered through various states of consciousness. Her nails dug into her palms as she struggled to survive. It'd been months, and she'd forgotten the personal anguish they caused her. These dreams were original and new, and she wondered if she'd somehow committed another sin worse than her last. It couldn't be. These nightmares were worse than a Devil's own. Her demons were hellbent on destroying her one dream at a time. How long could she last before they became reality? It would be her fault. All of it.

Ginna said...

“It’s nothing personal.” Oh, it’s all sorts of personal. The two-way conversation with myself was out of control. The way my inner demons would creep into my thoughts and add in their agitating babble was annoying. “But I’m taking your soul.”

Dylan smiled in a way that used to melt my heart, but I could see his original plan to destroy me. That was before he committed the greatest sin when he fell in love with a monster. Now I was hellbent on sucking the life from him, like a devil’s own advocate, and I always get what I want.

Pia said...

“’Don’t take it personally’? How original! What happened to ‘let’s stay friends’?”

Hank shrugged. “I simply don’t feel a connection.”

“You’re a heartless… devil,” I spat, hellbent on making him feel bad - was that a sin in the face of such blatant contempt?

“Soulless, not heartless, when you speak of devils,” Hank, self-proclaimed expert on devils and demons, taunted. “Besides, I wouldn’t make deals with Satan for chicks.”

“But for other things. Remember?” I dropped my wounded wallflower façade. Oh, how I loved to play with the players. “Pay day!” His soul was mine. This devil’s own.

angie Brooksby-Arcangioli said...

He was foolish to expect and easy escape. Those demons were hellbent on his soul. Luc jerked Fannie ‘s hair to run through the gate. Gabe let her pass but shoved him backwards. It was nothing personal; he was part of original sin. That split second in Heaven tasted like a devil’s own bliss.

angie Brooksby-Arcangioli said...

This is about Violet the protagonist of "S is for Silence" by Grafton...

Violet didn’t believe in original sin, she thought it was a load of crap. No one cared about her personal feelings, they all thought she was possessed by demons. She laughed remembering telling them that she was the devil’s own child. She was hellbent to leave, tired of his beatings. She flicked her cigarette out the car window and waited at the red light. She was first in line. Finally green, she revved the engine and slowly drove the car onto the ferry. A flash of freedom sparked her heart.

Rebekkah Niles said...

"If you're so hellbent on poisoning yourself, Andrew, then demons take me if I stop you!" Tierna slapped her hand to the counter in frustration as Andrew promptly bit into the sin that was pure chocolate and caramel indulgence.

"Ish not meh fault..." He paused to swallow. "It's not my fault I can't resist Momma's original Devil's Own cake. Nobody can. You can't, either."

"I'm not allergic to it," Tierna grumped through clenched teeth. "We're taking your car to the hospital. I hope it's worth it."

Andrew smirked around another forkful. "For my personal heaven? Worth every bite."

Sarah said...

Natalie Cole wanted him to pay. Hellbent on revenge, she’d sold her soul. Personal demons at her beck and call made her invincible. She just had to get him inside, then a trade of souls; his for hers. Revenge was sweeter when you outwit the devil too. Only that hadn’t happened. Original deals with the devil can turn up altered. She’d become A Devil’s Own; his pawn. A soul for a soul was her daily burden.

“Come in.” Her smile could make any man sin. He stepped over the threshold. It was her time to shine. Another victory in defeat.

J.S. Wood said...

I was in my own personal pain when the demons came for me.They were hellbent on my destruction since I committed an unforgivable sin. I told my God I wanted nothing to do with him, because I was angry he let my brother die. My brother, the original party animal, ran into a burning building to save a child, only he didn’t make it out alive. After the demons dragged me through time, we stopped in front a door that had a sign on it. I crept closer and squinted. It read, “A Devil’s Own.” Huh. Must be Hell.

Annalisa said...

“My personal preference is delivery,” I chide and climb the stairs toward the thrashing sound. I envision demons lapping a pool of warm blood and steady my pulse. The snapping of brittle bones crunching between saliva and teeth wets my appetite and I am hellbent on enjoying this meal. I see thick scarlet blood oozing from the beast’s mouth and the original plan evades me. Scampering across the dark space, the wounded predator transforms to luscious prey. I lurch to complete the sin and devour a devil’s own buffet.

Bruce Thole said...

The seed of hatred dwells deep within my mind; no amount of fleeting satisfaction will change what is inside. My craving for revenge lays dormant, my personal vendetta—a smoldered flame and yet it slithers, it waits, it churns, and it is hellbent on consuming those responsible for changing my life. Every step I take builds up to that perfect moment. My sins become my strength and my demons exist only to shield me from that terrible night. Original or not, for a devil’s own anger to be sated, the world must ignite and crumble beneath their wings.

Shannon Heather said...

“Say it while you hold your tongue and A Devil’s Own will show itself and its original sin.” Carmen explained.

“No Camel! You just say ‘demons’ three times.” Max argued.

“It’s personal preference Maxipad. Charlotte O’Mally said it and the thing in the mirror was hellbent on ripping her soul RIGHT out!” Carmen poked him.

Max jumped. “I’m telling Mom you said ‘hell’!”

“Tell on yourself cuz you just said it too.” Her satisfied smile was lot in the pitch black bathroom.

Max was silent for a moment. “Oday. Ah gawd mah dongue. Od thwee. Own, dwo, thwee…”

Sara Rayne said...

Sara ate personal demons for breakfast.

Well, no, not really. She ate oatmeal with brown sugar for breakfast; demons were too chewy.

She had the Devil’s own drive for ladder-climbing, corporate or otherwise. No need to let a little thing like conscience get in the way of achievement. If ambition was Satan’s original sin, she was his poster child, because she made doing bad look good.

With the competition gone, Sara was hellbent on making today her day. She tucked into her food before it got colder than the body hidden in the closet.

Let’s see who makes partner now.

Unknown said...

“That sounds like a personal problem.” He faked turning away, but I knew what he was after.

“You can have the key.”

His eyes lit. “The original.”

I nodded though it wasn’t a question.

He handed me the ring. It looked ordinary enough.

This time tomorrow, Anna would be dead and I’d be left alone with my demons.

A devil’s own bargain. But at this point, what did my soul matter? Anna was hellbent on a bloody ending for our story. Continued existence hinged on the greater capacity for sin. And I was nothing if not a survivor.

Stephsco said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Stephsco said...

I logged into the phone queue. The 1-800 number lit up immediately. A parent of a freshman asked my personal favorite request.

“I heard Hadley Hall is a ghetto, I want my daughter moved to Schuper Hall.”

Hellbent on keeping to policy, I told her it was too late to change the original assignment.

“What kind of demon are you? You want my daughter to live in a den of sin?”

“Your daughter can file a change request once the semester starts.”

“You’re satan!” The mother hung up.

I smiled. “A devil’s own spawn in the housing office.”

Nick Sanford said...

Things got personal when Lucy said, “A chew toy for the hellhounds . . . that’s all you’ll be good for when I’m through with you.” She was hellbent on winning. Well, so was I. Did she honestly take me for some pathetic closet-hiding-boogeyman?

Lucy had three sins stuffed in her pocket. I had none.

That’s when I saw him, the man minding his own business on the street corner. Original sin, I thought to myself, the Devil’s own masterpiece.

By the hand, I led him into the realm where demons rest.

And I knew I'd just won.

Christwriter said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Christwriter said...

I had two very different ideas, and as you said we could enter as many times as we wanted, I'm going to enter both in one comment. This alright?

Entry A-98 words

The original sin was telling my brother, the six-ten walking gonad, that him or his personal demons, someone was getting evicted. You can’t swim in mescal bottles and not find worms, and I was tired of watching them eat him alive.

We settled in, hellbent for sober. He saw the devil’s own pets crawl on his arms—“LEGS!” he screamed, “LEGS!”--I paid for my big mouth, gave him orange juice, cleaned the vomit and prayed. It took four days; he woke up sane. We poured one more bottle onto the grill and watched that last worm fry.

Entry B--99 words

“It’s hard work, catching demons.” My affair with this one was personal.

“How so?” He smiled. No forked tongue, but how did he get brimstone dandruff? Sulfur Shampoo?

“They like sin, but you can’t be too original. They’ll catch on and then, bam! They’re hellbent for leather while you’re holding the bill—or bell, book and candle, in this case.”

His hands oozed over mine. “Then what’s the secret?”

I kissed him and had the devil’s own time holding on while he screamed and those beautiful eyes melted away. “Blessed lipstick.” I smiled. Then I mopped up the goo.

Unknown said...

“How about something that will make me look – younger?”

Younger. Right. “I’m a stylist, not a magician,” Jill wanted to say, but didn’t.

She picked up the scissors and started in on Mrs. Kemp’s bristly gray hair. In the mirror she could see Tessa smirking at her from behind a National Enquirer. Reading inside out, she deciphered the headlines: “JLo Battles Personal Demons, Says Old Self Was ‘Hellbent’ on ‘Sin’ ” and “Ape Mother Steals Brangelina Baby.”

Jill smothered a sigh. There wasn’t much point in trying for something original on Mrs. Kemp; the old lady, with her age spots and pouchy eyes, always ended up looking like a devil’s own rugrat.

Sarah said...

The earth rattled under her feet. She peered down the hole as muted screams rose up the tunnel’s throat; the original access to Hell. No one guarded it. They didn’t care if extra souls fell in. Rae did, but she was hellbent on keeping it open. The Devil’s Own were on the loose, but Rae could stop them. She gave them mortal souls. Made them human; infested them with sin.

“Don’t put us down there!” Three power-stripped demons slithered helplessly against the pull.
Rae smiled wickedly as hell’s vortex claimed them into her own personal justice pit.

BriteLady said...

Penny raced through the restaurant kitchen, hellbent on delivering ten of the chef’s special personal pizzas, piping hot, to the hockey team out front.

The Detroit Demons’ new center, Alex Hardy was here. In her section. The man had a devil’s own luck on the ice, pulling three hat tricks this month alone.

She licked her lips and smiled. “Who’s hungry?”

Alex’s onyx eyes slid over her red-and-black uniform and his smile—with all of his original teeth—promised a night of sin. When he spoke, his sexy low voice sent a tremor down her spine. “Just what I needed.”

Christina Auret said...

I was on my cell in the ladies. The champagne, the flowers and the restaurant had made the situation very clear. No one could accuse Carl of being original.

“He’s hellbent on proposing”

“I told you never to sleep with shrieker demons.”

“I was drunk, Darla, and it was only once.”

“They’re big on tradition.”

“Trust me, I’m getting that. So, five minutes before you get here?”

Darla sighed with much drama.

“If needs must.”

I finished the call. Things were about to get personal. With an earplug in each hand I stepped out to briefly pay for my sins.

Mark said...

It was all personal, was Sgt. Patterson's original thought as he picked up the bloody and battered corpse, two clean shots in the head. He was a grunt for Seal Team Six, all of them hellbent on revenge for a nation attacked.

"You breathe a word of this, to anybody," their commander had warned him in a quiet voice, "Then you can count on reprisal. Your 'Devil's Own' nightmare tracking you down. Resist the sin of pride."

The commander stood up, and gave a final warning.

"Patterson- listen. No one can know you smoked bin Laden."

Sarah said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sarah said...

“Hand me the wrench, Boy!”

We all have our personal demons. Whiskey is my old man’s. Lying about her bruises is my momma’s. Letting both continue is mine. If he ever touches Kate, that’ll be a sin he’ll never recover from.

It wasn’t my original plan, but I see my old man’s foot by the makeshift car jack; a devil’s own temptation. I move the whiskey and walk away. He’ll be hellbent to reach it and I know it.

I hear the mustang fall. Seconds later I hear Momma cry. I know what I’ve done, but I finally feel safe.

Unknown said...

Delilah and I worked at A Devil’s Own -- a salon that excised the personal demons of horrific haircuts.  She swept up tears from women hellbent on sharing their nightmares of scissors and skullcaps.  After the initial shock wore off of seeing Delilah’s furry face, the women would hand their hats over, proudly displaying their sins, the styles they thought so original.

As I sat there, watching Delilah work, her silver tongue clucking, I decided someday I’d marry that big, beautiful bearded broad.  Her mutual affection of alliteration, of preaching to her parishioners, solidified her spot in my janitorial heart.

Mark said...

This man was a demon, was Sgt. Patterson's original thought as he picked up the bloody and battered corpse, two clean shots in the head. He was a grunt for Seal Team Six, all of them hellbent on revenge for a nation attacked.

"You breathe a word of this, to anybody," their commander had warned him in a quiet voice, "Then you can count on reprisal. Your 'Devil's Own' nightmare tracking you down. Resist the sin of pride."

The commander stood up, and gave a final warning.

"Patterson- listen. No one can know you smoked bin Laden."

Anonymous said...

Sicily stopped and peered around the corner. The man up ahead couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there. He chuckled darkly to himself and grinned. Sicily started and realized that the grin she just saw on his handsome face made her want to sin and be his personal bedroom slave. She shook her head and reminded herself that he was a devil's own son, an original demon, trouble. She was just about to give up when he turned fully to her and said, “Well, if you are hellbent on stalking me, you might as well stop hiding…come here.”


Nicole Mainardi said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Nicole Mainardi said...

"Demons," I scoff, trying not to let this extremely personal encounter get to me. I know I’m a Devil's Own, I don’t need to be reminded every five seconds as they dance around me like I’m their Godsend. Oops, bad choice of words. Hellbent on getting away from the little creeps, I uncross my leather-clad legs and get up off the molten rock, continuing on my original path. But there’s a boy, standing in the middle of the streaming lava, blocking me, and looking as hot as sin, grinning wickedly. Devil help me.

Marie Rearden said...

“Here lies Wellington Sweetly. Hellbent on sin, and blessed with a devil’s own lust for B negative.”

“Not your best speech, Jersey.”
This box had tons of wiggle room compared to the others.

“Maybe not, Wells. But I’m not the vamp locked in a lavender coffin with two starving squirrels.”

Yuck, lavend-Wait! Squirrels!

The demons latched onto my earlobes. I slammed my personal nightmares against the silk-lined lid. Jersey knew I was terrified of rodents. With those scrunched noses and shifty eyes…shudder.

“Very original!”

“Hey, if you’d stop falling asleep under the skylight, I’d stop locking you in coffins.”

Can't wait to read Original Sin. Thanks for the opportunity for an advanced copy! Team Luc!

Marie Rearden

germaine.dulac said...

“Demons are such assholes,” I said, mounting the elliptical.

“What do you mean?” Tina asked.

“Just look.” I pointed angrily at the window. Directly across the street was a gourmet bakery. A Devil’s Own Delight.

“Oh,” Tina laughed. “That new demon-run place? Yeah, they set-up shop two weeks after this gym opened.”

“Bastards,” I muttered.

Tina sighed. “Personally, I don’t mind. I’d gladly sell my soul for a slice of their original Devil’s food cake.”

“Resist temptation, Tina!”

“So soft and moist...” she moaned. “Sweet as sin.”

“No, Tina—”

She was gone before I could blink, hellbent on baked goods.

Tara Tyler said...

With each step the fragrance thickens. I crane my neck around the corner and suck in the enticing aroma.

There it is. Like original sin, too tempting to avoid. It’s only three feet away. I draw another deep breath and…gag! The demon’s stench invades my nostrils.

I scan the room. There. My arch enemy, hellbent to destroy me, saunters into the room and sprawls on his pillow, falling into a cream coma.

I silently scamper to my prize, remove it and position the contraption perfectly.



His inflamed green eyes catch my smiling black ones. This time it’s personal.

denyapal said...

A Taste of Heaven:

“You know that I’m going to corrupt you?” I flirt, arching my eyebrow at Daniel. “You probably don’t even know the definition of sin. And I’m literally one of the devil’s own.”

“I like corruption.” Daniel winks; a look so devilish it should never be seen on an angel like him. He kisses my mouth, hellbent on shutting me up.

But along with the shivers his touch gives, I feel creeping guilt in my stomach. I’m a demon sent to ensure Daniel becomes a fallen angel. Originally I didn’t expect to fall in love with an angel like him… Which has made this mission my own personal hell.

denyapal said...

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned:

“You jerk!” Ella raged as if I’d committed a mortal sin, throwing a book at me, hellbent on punishing me. “How dare you break up with me?!”

“Ell, it’s nothing personal-“

“Who is she? I bet she’s a real tart, one of the devil’s own!”

“There’s no other woman, I-“

“I gave you everything! I want my baseball cards back! Some of those were originals!” Ella hurtles another book.

“Calm down, I-“

”GET OUT!” She shrieks. I run out, avoiding more projectiles. Who knew breaking up with a woman would turn her into such a demon?

Marc said...

He was to become our own personal white whale, as we searched year after year for just a glimpse of him. Hellbent as we were upon finding him, we hurt too many people and broke too many laws, but he had to be made to suffer for his sins.

Regardless of the original reason that fueled our obsession, we emulated our idol, Ahab, and never yielded nor gave up hope.

And even though we had the devil’s own time catching you, we can now say - Fare thee well, Osama Bin Ladin, and enjoy playing with the demons in hell.

Jenn Rush said...

ORIGINAL SIN?! How I've missed Luc...

In 2200 A.D...

In the olden days, people didn’t have hellbent fridges that told them in a cheery-as-sin British accent that they should eat more vegetables, which really meant that the fridge thought they were fat.


“The fridge said you unplugged it,” Mom said.

“We should've bought a new robot.” I nodded at Dexter in the corner, The Devil’s Own Demons bumper sticker plastered to his chest. “He’s original. From the 90’s!”

“The Council recommends vegetables,” the fridge said. “Ice cream isn’t a vegetable.”

“Have carrots,” Mom said.

“Whose side are you on?”

She sighed. “Don’t take it personal.”

“Too late.”

LA Mama said...

The voices are back, fervently whispering in maddening little murmurs, a hundred of my own personal demons hellbent on reminding me of that original sin that made me what I was: a devil’s own dream.

It was the voices that kept me quiet when Daddy started climbing in bed with me at night, that kept me quiet for eight years after. But tonight, Daddy climbed in bed with Sally. And tonight, they’re not telling me to be quiet. Tonight, they’re telling me to fight. I’m okay with that. I grab the knife and walk towards the door, whispering a lullaby.

Karen Baldwin said...

Demons be damned! I was hellbent to find a way into the nether realm. I didn’t care if I had to battle every spiritual fiend up close and personal. I had to find and save my sister. You see, it was because of my original sin, not hers, that they claimed her soul. And if I didn’t find her soon, she’d become one of the devil’s own for eternity

Phil Hall said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Phil Hall said...

When Man fell, we became property, so to speak, of Lucifer. Because of original sin, we belonged to him. The thing is, there's more than one demon in Hell, and some of them--and excuse the turn of phrase--are hellbent on escape from that infernal, unending nightmare of pain, suffering, and regret. I know, usually demons wouldn't work like that, at least they shouldn't. But mine do. You see, I'm possessed. I have several personal demons within me. I have a legion within, I am no longer a devil's own: we want out. And we don't care how.

DD3123 said...

At age nine, standing just outside the garage door, I began a personal relationship with fire. A flick of my wrist sent a bottle flying. It was a lit Molotov, of sorts. But more refined. An original recipe, by yours truly. The bottle arced through the air and broke on the carport. Flames danced across the floor and up the walls like demons hellbent on consummation. Smiling, I cared not that this was a supposed sin. It was glorious. Beautiful.

And as Mother lay inside, bound and gagged, I could have sworn I heard her call me, “A Devil’s own.”

Diane Henders said...

Title: Salvation in the Bottle

“Aagh, darlin’, help me up. I’ve a devil’s own headache.”

“Which you deserve.”

“Have mercy on yer poor da. ‘Tis a sin to waste liquor.”

“It’s a sin to lie to me about laying your personal demons to rest and putting things right. If it’d been high tide, I’d have taken the boat and let you swim home, cancer or no.”

“I’m hellbent, an’ no mistake. But, darlin’, that was yer grandda’s last original bottle.”

“You’re not going to revive that hoary old fable again... what’s that?”

“A diamond.”

“It’s huge!”

“Sometimes salvation’s in the bottle, darlin’. I love ye.”

Patrick said...

“The demons eat your sins. They’re like remoras or something, only more personal,” she said with a smile.
“How can anything eat a sin?” her little brother asked. “You actually believe in the Hellbent?”
“We have to believe, Coden. You know that.”
“They can make us go Service, but they can’t change this,” he said, tapping his head. “Besides, a devil’s own daughter wouldn’t believe half the stories in that Great Book of theirs. Not original enough, most of them.”
“They can make you believe,” she whispered. “They made mom believe, before they executed her.”
Coden shrugged.

GSMarlene said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Steve Forti said...

“Well that’s rather personal,” Lucy scoffed as she read the message from OriginalHorndog. To be fair, she was in the chat room of her favorite personals site, And it’s not like the market for DSDs – Demons Seeking Demons – was a very large dating pool. Still, OriginalHorndog was getting awfully graphic, asking questions that would make a devil’s own cheeks blush. Bold, but inappropriate. Lucy preferred saving that kind of sin for the third date.

She reread his profile: “Sinning is Winning”. Tall, dark, and fire-breathing. Hellbent on love. Seeking cloven cuddler.

“Aw, hell,” she shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be fun.”

GSMarlene said...

“Office. Now.”

A heartbeat propels my body from the chair. Personal assistant to a prosecutor hellbent on preserving his unbeaten record is my ideal job. It pays the bills and most days, I find solace in my contribution to removing criminals from the street. An escape from demons past and present.

David Winchester is cut from the original cloth that created Two-Face Harvey Dent and believes the greatest sin is failure to use any means to win. He expects nothing less than perfection from the daughter of the devil’s own, the city’s most notorious druglord.

I run.

The other way.

Writing (at) MarleneMoss (dot) com

Penelope Wright said...

I don’t know anything about religion. My parents said all that demon and angel and God and ‘original sin’ stuff was crap. Mom and Dad are atheists. Well, they were.

Miss Clara says they’re in hell now.

I know my parents were wrong. I’m seventeen and have to call someone “Miss Clara.” Hell really does exist.

“A devil’s own,” Clara chants, whenever I’m around. Is that her personal opinion of me, or is she some obsessive compulsive lunatic? She’s either hellbent on freaking me out, or she’s psycho. Probably both.

At least she doesn’t make me call her Mom.

ennubi said...

I poked at the scrawny arms with my talons until they retracted into the cauldron. Recent fare had been pathetic, far more so than I dared admit.

Were truly hellbent mortals no more? Watered down, washed out lives putrefied in ignorance were nothing compared to the tangy zest of original sinners like Caine, Judas Iscariot, and Brutus.

A twisted demon-face emerged and squealed its outrage. I smiled at my brother. Today's dinner, at least, would contain a special, personal spice.

“Were you expecting a second chance? We are the devil's own, after all, and we have to be fed.”

Unknown said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

He sat defiantly in his bed in the crepuscular cellar; shaking.

Only it was no longer through fear; but defiance. He’d tried to be a good boy for the demons living above, but those actions earned him punches, kicks and a broken leg that hadn’t fused properly.

Never again. The sight of the new addition to a devil’s own family made him snap. His original sin had not been to misunderstand their demands; it had been simply to exist. It was personal.

Instinctively he bore his incisors as the door slowly opened.

The dog was hellbent on having its day.

Adrienne said...

He took a drag off his cigar like he was making love to it, and I tapped my foot until he exhaled in a swirl of smoke.
“You sure are Hellbent, little girl. Think you're so original, coming here to figure out my sin like it's Sunday's crossword.” He turned his sharp blue eyes on me, and I wished I had something to hide behind. “Or is this personal?”
I answered with a shrug.
Then he slammed his fist and smiled, and something flared behind the blue. Demons danced behind those eyes, a Devil's own spark.

Adrienne said...

I caught her between the headlights of my car, and all I could think about was her and Kurt curled together in the throes of their Original Sin. He had been mine, and she'd known it.
“Nothing personal,” she'd said.
She tossed her golden hair in the high beams. Then, I swear, she smirked, like she was just reliving the whole thing in her head. Kurt had kissed that demon's lips with a kiss he'd said was all mine.
I was Hellbent on making her pay. So I floored it. I had to admit, for me, it was personal.

Mike Koch - Protect The Risen said...

A devil's own tongue could not have stole my sin filled mind with better guile. The demons within me tugged at my desires for her and diminish my resolve. It left me with little room for original thought and I dare not seek it. A slave to her magnificence and inspired by her kindness, I would trudge a through a thousand lifetimes to be with her once more. It was a hellbent scheme, I realize now, but as the blade found its home my own personal needs ebbed into a void of blackness.

Mike Koch - Protect The Risen said...

Therdra's yellow eyes glowed brightly as the magical lifeforce called the 'bredth' was removed from her latest victim. She spoke to him and a devil's own tongue could not have stole his courage with greater adeptness. Her raspy voice forced into his mind leaving little room for original thought.

"I have but one personal request from your sin laden mouth. Tell me where the one they call the 'Risen' is hiding." Mistress Therdra was hellbent on finding her nemesis and destroying her. Only then could Therdra's demons destroy the Brethen people.

The man gasped his final words, "I don't know!"

C R Ward said...

“I’ve had a devil’s own time finding you, Lizzy,” he said, a frown marring his handsome face.

“And here you stand, spouting clichés,” I said. “You’re so original.”

He stopped just short of invading my personal space. He smelled like sin, and so many other things I craved.

“I don’t know why you’re hellbent on making this so hard.” He looked so genuinely puzzled that I took pity on him.

I struggled free from the grasp of his demons. “Maybe I was trying to make it hard,” I told him, and pressed closer, sliding one hand downwards.

Donea Lee said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Donea Lee said...

Mickey was hellbent on squeezing into that original “A Devil’s Own” prom dress. The boutique sprung up in town just before the flowers that spring. It was practically a sin to buy your dress elsewhere. The entire female population of Brimstone High had flocked the shop and depleted their inventory. It was like some crazed rally. She could almost hear the cheerleaders shouting, “Goooo, Demons!”

Mickey managed to snatch the last size five. Still, all the personal trainers in the world couldn’t whittle her waist down to fit it in just three days. She’d have to pray for a miracle...

*Thanks for the opportunity! :)

Donea Lee said...

(a second try...)

“It’s hellbent.”

I squinted at the original “sculpture” on the neighbor’s lawn. I still didn’t have a clue what it was supposed to be. Ugly. As. Sin.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that demon dog of yours bent the hell out of it!”

I patted Lucky on the head. “So?”

“So, I want you to pay for it.”

Lucky growled at Mr. Fitz and the bald geezer stumbled back.

“Why. If he ain’t the devil’s own…” He pointed a stubby finger at the dog and then at me. “This isn’t over!”

Spot on, Fitzy. You just made it personal.

Anonymous said...

Hell, fury, scorn and not even a Devil's own personal demons smelled a rat.

Lilith, oh so fair, original wife of Adam, equal, not carved from his rib, believed she had a share in his circus until he forced her into submission.

“Fuck off!” she cried and ditched the Garden on Lucifer's loving shoulder.

The first son's loss was a fallen angel’s ultimate revenge, except for a minor oversight: Lilith entered the inferno free of sin.

Now, she’s hellbent on destroying its smitten king, so she alone can rule the damned.

Anonymous said...

Viscount Whiskers dropped silently to the obsidian tile, claws out. She was a devil's own feline, ringleader of KWAAA (Kittens Who Are Also Assassins), hellbent on paying back Chicago's mob bosses sin for sin.

But tonight wasn't about the original mission, wasn't about the mafia. Tonight was personal.

She sniffed: sulfur.


Stalking behind pillars, ascending tapestries, she bypassed the compound's lesser sentinels: razor-fanged familiars whose raw black skin bubbled like tar. They never noticed her, a whisper among shadows.

Whiskers crept into the vaulted sanctuary – soon to be a crypt – and unsheathed her scimitar.

"Hello, Cerberus," she purred.

Anonymous said...

When Buck "Daiquiri" Dernham sauntered into Cinco Tortugas bar in downtown Monterrey, his fluorescent pink T-shirt and gift shop sombrero attracted little attention. It was that kind of crowd.

Attention came later, after he'd downed a one-pint bowl of some orange drink known only as "El Original," performed a devil's own karaoke rendition of "Hellbent" by Rudy and the Demons, and given a personal demonstration of the phrase sin pantalones to a dismayed bartender named Beto.

Inspector Perez never even noticed the young lady snatching the BlackBerry from his pocket.

Agent Dernham was very good at his job.

Anonymous said...

"Scatological skywriting isn't *precisely* a sin," Miranda's ghost offered.

Saint Peter adjusted his spectacles. "It's not looked highly on, ma'am."

"Simon - can I call you Simon?"


"Pete - I can't go to Hell. The demons, the brimstone, a devil's own AC system - so uncomfortable. You understand. Nothing personal, but this pre-afterlife screening's been a real guilt trip. Everyone's so hellbent on - " She winced. "Poor word choice?"

A saintly sigh. "Miranda, I'll return to my original question. Did you, or did you not, on April 14th, 2011, attempt squirrel juggling for money?"

"Requiescat in pace, Lemmy," she mumbled, looking down.

abrielle1 said...

Mist tangled down my throat like thread, thick enough to choke on yet not dense enough to drown out the lamenting wails.

Was I truly to become like them, hapless demons set to scorn and left with nothing but the chafing winds? I, a devil’s own wayward daughter, exiled to the Nothing Realm and hellbent on redemption?

Oh, you petty demons, am I condemned to roam besides you, condemned to see your faces protruding through eternity? Perhaps, for even I lay branded by personal sin: man’s most original transgression. I have come to love, and thus can never be forgiven.

abrielle1 said...

Crimson eyes blazed darkly from faces set in stone, cracked demons littering the walkways with wingtips hellbent on powdering to pieces.

Shadow’s words slashed like wet steel through vacant corridors. “You will fight forever should you choose my path,” she’d told me. Blood cracked along my hands to prove it, heavy with my last transgression. “You shall be feared by all, and loved by none but me.” But Shadow’s love was plenty.

Shadow never believed in acceptance from immobile lips. Man’s original sin, Death, was the only true acceptance; a devil’s own personal chance at redemption. The statues were unworthy.