I am seeking representation for my 70,000-word urban fantasy, THE INFERNAL FAMILY.
Like all half-demon infernals, Johann Stark is barred from churches, the name of God burns his tongue and his killing instincts kick in at the least provocation. Unlike his murderous kin, Johann is determined to stay human: his rag-tag family of infernal fosterlings depend on his protection. As long as his family are happy and safe, Johann can believe he’s risen above his infernal heritage to become a good person.
Then a pissed-off angel crashes his territory on a mission to annihilate all infernals. He sets Johann an ultimatum. Hand over his eleven-year-old foster daughter, whose powers the angel can use to ID and toast infernals, or the angel will butcher his way through Johann’s family and take her anyway.
When Johann hands over his daughter he makes himself a promise. He’s coming back to save her. Whatever the cost. He’ll kill angels, deal with his hated demonic father and sacrifice what’s left of his humanity to put his family back together.
But if he ever saves his daughter, he may no longer be human enough to be the father his family needs.
Thank you for your consideration.
It was just sunlight, Johann told himself. He didn’t jump at flashes any more.
He tossed the cards on the kitchen counter in an arc of white. “You’re cheating. The kids are young and impressionable, you could lure them into a life of crime.”
Kate bit the corner of one card, her smile a half-glimpsed curve like the sun. Johann suspected she nibbled cards to track them as she dealt, unless aces were disproportionately delicious. “My Alix is an angel. I blame your miscreant son for any crime.”
The open window framed a cluttered city skyline burning in the summer sun. Johann liked Bristol -- the steep streets and green places, even the deluges making roads rivers and windows waterfalls. Rain on the roof was the sound of home.
Best of all, nobody had tried to snatch Kate’s daughter Alix. It’d been months since the hunters last struck.
Flash. The mirror was reflecting a glitter from across the street. Like gunmetal.
Johann angled his chair to watch the mirror. Kate was close enough to touch, television babbling in the background. He wasn’t going to scare her over nothing.
It was just -- last time’d been quick. He’d been watching the lights of Portland harbour at dusk, tiny Alix leaning into him for warmth. They’d hit from the road: three men to snatch her, a van to bail out. If Johann’d been tired or drinking or distracted, if he’d left her to walk along the beach, if they’d had five clear seconds --