Dear Shelia,

It was a dark and stormy night…

Is a rose a rose by any other name? Do I really fucking care?

Nope. Nope, I don’t. But I have to say giving Satan a pen name was an outstandingly good time. Today, my recently discovered sister Tiara joined us. Tiara is all kinds of crazy awesome and has never tried to kill me which makes her A-OK in my book. She’s even weirder than I am. She’s a Vampyre-Demon-Fairy—extremely powerful, very profane and I adore her.

Tiara and her mate Claudia are lovely and have moved into the Cressida House while they figure out what they want to do with the rest of their immortal lives. I couldn’t be happier. Samuel is besotted with the two women and Ethan has invited them to stay as long as they want. I hope it’s forever.

Anyhoo, Satan has decided to use a pen name since a book by the Devil might not sell that well. This is also a very good idea since he doesn’t want lawsuits. Although, he’s smoking crack to think there won’t be any lawsuits. I’m going to make very sure my name is not on this farked up catastrophe anywhere—or I’ll take a pen name as well. I was thinking about Stephen-ie King or Janet Eclompovitch or Stephen (no ie) Meyer or possibly James-ie Patterson. I also am quite fond of Darynda Moans, Robyn Eaterman and Molly Larper. Although, my favorite at the moment is Charlaine Harriest.

What do you think?

Don’t answer. I’ll have to kill you.

So here it is. Read and giggle.

“We’re going to work on eliminating the moniker Uncle Fucker from your vocabularies,” Satan informed me and Tiara in an icy tone so we would know he meant business. “Besides I need to use a pen name. You will address me accordingly.”

Secretly, I was very sure he enjoyed being called Uncle Fucker. It was every kind of wrong and profane—just like him.

“Did you pick one?” I inquired, literally bouncing in my seat to give him a pen name.

“Do you have something in mind?” he asked giving me a very suspiciously raised eyebrow.

My laugh rang through the room and even Satan could hold back his grin.

“You really don’t want to let her do this,” my sister Tiara warned with an evil little smirk pulling at her lips.

“I’m offended,” I shouted in mock rage. “I read romance novels, for the love of everything bodice ripping and fabulous. I know what the ladies want.”

“Let’s hear it then,” Tiara said with a bark of laughter.

“Dirk,” I announced with wide eyes, waggling brows and an even wider grin. “Dirk D. Deemonee!”

Satan’s expression looked like he’d swallowed a lemon—it was totally awesome. I knew the name was appalling. There was no way in Hell he was going to answer to Dirk. He’d probably go with Uncle Fucker before he went with Dirk D. Deemonee.

“What does the middle D stand for?” Tiara asked, attempting to hold back her squeal of laughter.

“Dick!” I bellowed and fell to the floor in giggles.

Tiara lost a valiant battle with her composure and landed in a heap next to me.

“While I find your bonding over my emasculation amusing, I will not go by that name. Even you can’t utter the abomination without guffawing like a common peasant.”

“How about Sam Sinessssster?” Tiara suggested between unladylike grunts of glee.

“Or Vinnie Villanilicious?” I squealed.

“Or Nardel Nefariouso?” Tiara shouted as three windows in the room burst and shattered to dust.

“Or Lou Sy?” I took another appalling turn.

“Or Abe Bominable?”

“Or Dizzy Greeable?”

“Or Wick Edest?”

Closing his eyes, Satan leaned back on the couch and let us wear ourselves out. When there appeared to be no end in sight, he finally stepped in. Clearly, we could go on for days—weeks—years—centuries.

“I shall be known as Blade,” Satan announced. “Just Blade.”

“Like Beyoncé or Cher?” I questioned, pushing a still laughing Tiara off of me.

“Yes. Except I’m sexier.”

“Hmm, it’s not bad,” I mused, considering it. “But you really should have a last name. Sounds less like a male stripper that way.”

“She’s right,” Tiara agreed. “What do you love? What makes you happy?”

“I enjoy sex.”

“Blade Fornicate or Blade Boink doesn’t work for me,” Tiara said, thinking aloud. “How about Blade Boffmeister?”

“No, too literal,” I said, thinking Blade really was a good name. “What about something more obscure like Blade Nooner?”

“That’s better, but I like alliteration. How ʼbout Blade Baller or Blade Bugger,” Tiara suggested.

“How about no fucking way,” Uncle Fucker inserted just to make us stop.

“What else do you like besides bumping uglies?” I asked, still smirking and giggling.

“For the record, mine’s not ugly. And the answer is fire. I adore fire,” the Devil said with confidence.

“Blade Inferno,” Tiara said, her mismatched eyes wide with excitement. “It’s hot and dangerous. It’s very memorable—I mean not as memorable as Satan, Lucifer, Mother Humpin’ Prince of Darkness, Blade Boink or Uncle Fucker, but I think it will work.”

“It’s perfect,” I agreed with a clap of my hands.

Satan didn’t look quite as certain, but it clearly beat all the other names we’d so helpfully come up with.

“Blade Inferno it is,” Satan said, relieved we were done with renaming the Devil.

Shelia, Blade Inferno still sounds a bit male strippery, but the Devil is hot and dangerous so I think it will be fine. And Blade Boink—even though it made me laugh till I couldn’t speak—was not going to work.

I’m still in shock that this profane and offensive pile of words will become a book, but it’s not my problem. It’s his. And just so you know, I’ve narrowed my own pen name down to two choices—Darynda Moans and Charlaine Harriest. I’d love it if you could chime in on my pen name, but if you did I’d have to kill you.

Have a great night.

xoxo Astrid