A Fashionably Dead Diary by Robyn Peterman

Author:Robyn Peterman [Peterman, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robyn Peterman
Published: 2017-11-30T18:30:00+00:00

Friday

Is the Devil still the Devil by any other name?

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.

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