C. L. Hart is Lil DeVille's less spicy alter-ego, although she would likely argue that Lil DeVille is her own spicier alter-ego.
The primary relationship in C. L. Hart's story for Fallen is a platonic friendship. However, the story does include a vitally important romance for one of the main characters.
Book
Fallen
Story
Of Outer Gods and Fallen Angels
ASIN
B0CSHHPT9K
Publication Date
March 30, 2024
Anthology Genre
Fantasy (Various sub-genres)
Story Genre
Lovecraftian Fantasy, Judeo-Christian Mythology,
Tropes
Friendship, Lost Love, Reincarnation
Buy Link
http://books2read.com/DSPFallen
Price
$1.99 Pre-order
Book Blurb
Fall from grace…
In a twist of fate, these angels have done the unforgivable and
have been kicked out. Some are left to roam freely while they plot
their revenge. Some are immediately given a new job as a form of
punishment. Some are even innocent and try to prove it themselves.
But can any of them find their new purpose in the end?
Featuring stories by Michael Paige, Matthew Fryer, Bruno Lombardi,
Barend Nieuwstraten III, Kelly Barker, A.E. Lowan, C.L. Hart, and
J.E. Feldman.
Story Blurb
Gerry Clifford appears to be simply a small, frail older man who
has fallen victim to early-onset dementia.
Yadira Root appears to be an impossibly ancient woman who
volunteers her time at the care center where people like Gerry live
out their final days.
A conversation between the pair reveals unexpected truths about
both of them.
About the Author:
C. L. Hart, the
owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in
hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern
Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should
Not Be.
When not penning
sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy,
or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to
upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she
hopes will be considered palatable.
Ms.
Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult
son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early
Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can
usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or
rehabilitating eldritch horrors.
Follow
C. L. Hart
C. L. Hart Amazon
Author Page
https://bit.ly/CLHartAmazonAuthor
C. L. Hart Newsletter
https://www.subscribepage.com/clhart
Naughty Netherworld
Press Blog
http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com
Naughty Netherworld
Press Books
https://bit.ly/NNPBooks
Naughty Netherworld
Press Start Page
https://naughtynetherworldpress.start.page
Naughty Netherworld
Press Substack
https://naughtynetherworldpress.substack.com
Naughty Netherworld
Press Tumblr
http://netherworldwritersguild.tumblr.com
Readers Roost Book
Blog
https://bit.ly/ReadersRoost
Readers Roost Facebook
http://www.facebook.com/OrneryOwlsRoost
Readers Roost Twitter
https://twitter.com/ReadersRoost
Excerpt
444 Words
For eons, I have been looking for a way to right the wrongs
committed at the time of my birth. I have once again encountered
Malak, son of Lucifer; he with his heart burst open like a snowdrop’s
pouting petals. However, to my dismay, Malak, the world-builder and
shadow-weaver, has forgotten who he was. He is bound to a broken,
dying body, although at night, his soul roams free.
In our first meeting at the care center where he now resides, I
approached Malak cautiously, unsure of how he would respond to my
presence. Bewildered disorientation had replaced the once alert,
inquisitive look in his eyes. Like a spark struggling to ignite, I
noted a faint glimmer of recognition, but it was obscured by the murk
of confusion overtaking his decaying memory.
"Malak," I said softly as I took his hands in mine.
"It's your old friend Yadira. Do you remember who you once were?
World-builder, shadow weaver, beloved son of Lucifer."
It was evident from his expression that his mind was seeking an
elusive memory. A longing for understanding replaced his puzzlement.
"Who... who am I?" he mumbled, his voice feeble and
uncertain. "I feel like fragments of a shattered mirror, lost in
a labyrinth of forgotten dreams."
A pang of sympathy pierced my heart. Seeing this brilliant being
trapped in a decaying vessel, his bright, inquisitive soul longing
for release, was tragic. I took his trembling hand in mine, hoping my
touch would serve as an anchor, reconnecting him to his forgotten
self.
"Malak, you were once a weaver of worlds, a creator of
infinite possibilities," I explained. "Your mind held the
secrets of the cosmos, and your hands shaped realms beyond
imagination."
Despite the fragility of his body, a spark of ancient power
flickered within him as he struggled to break free from the fog of
forgetfulness.
"I remember whispers of worlds born from the rhythm of my
thoughts," he murmured. "Visions of beauty and darkness
once flowed through me like a river of eternal creation."
I continued to paint a picture of his former existence, hoping to
unleash the dormant power lying buried deep within.
"Malak, reclaim your identity," I urged. "I will
help you mend the fractures in your soul, reuniting the shattered
fragments, and restoring the balance disrupted long ago. The broken
body that confines you is insignificant compared to the boundless
potential within. The key to redemption and rectification lies in
you. Please assist me in redressing the wrongs of the past. With you
healed and my parents reunited, we will forge a future where your
power, reclaimed and revitalized, can help restore balance to the
cosmos."
.png)
