Cover

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Introduction

Careful what you ask for, because Lucifer sees you when you’re sleeping. Spies when you’re awake. Knows if you’ve been nauseatingly good, so try to be bad for the devil’s sake.

Merry is determined to make Christmas special for her son. He hasn’t spoken or smiled since his father died, so she writes a letter hoping for a holiday miracle.

Dear Satan…

Her unfortunate error ensures her wish ends up in the wrong place. Worse? Satan answers her plea—after telling Santa where he can shove a candy cane. The devil knows just what Merry needs, and he has the perfect demon for the job.

Marduke’s mission is to deliver a hellhound puppy to a little boy, along with some tips on how to avoid getting eaten. What the devil’s kennel master doesn’t expect on this emasculating mission of kindness is Merry. A happy, optimistic woman despite all the strife in her life.

It’s disgusting. Annoying. Tempting?

Usually, Marduke is all about destroying hopes and dreams—and letting his dogs pee on people while they’re down—but there’s something about Merry…

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Foreword

‘Twas the days before Christmas

And all throughout Hell,

Perversion was happening,

Crime was up as well.

The babies were alive,

And not killed in their crib,

His wife was acting normal,

Which meant good sex for him.

Satan wore his red latex,

And Gaia her skimpiest thong,

When Polkie arrived

With a letter sent wrong.

1

“The mail, Your Eminence.” Polkie—short for Philokrates, a strange looking mix between a gremlin and Atlantean, wearing a proper all black suit to match his expression—placed a tarnished tray stacked with letters upon the Devil’s desk. Red, pink, some covered in drawings and stickers of line art holiday trees or fat snowmen and fatter Santas. Some had that damned glitter that got into everything.

Evil shit. It’s why the creator of it currently suffered. The devil should never sparkle. That was for vampires.

“Christmas letters. My favorite.” He rubbed his hands. While he publicly complained about Christmas—all that kindness and family time and goodwill blah blah puke—secretly he loved it.

The month of December, leading up to his nephew’s birthday, was a busy time, what with all the increased crime and the drama amongst adults. Divorces skyrocketed. Violence, too. So much sin it was hard to keep track at times.

Christmas also meant thousands upon thousands of letters being mailed by children to the North Pole and that fat bastard who didn’t even live there. So many letters and some addressed to Lucifer himself.

Dear Satan.