Riders of the Purple Wage (2013)
“DeMille.”
“Dead or alive?” the angel Gabriel said.
“I want to make him an offer he can’t refuse. Can even I do this to a dead man?”
“Oh, I see,” said Gabriel, who didn’t. “It will be done.”
And it was.
Cecil Blount DeMille, confused, stood in front of the desk. He didn’t like it. He was used to sitting behind the desk while others stood. Considering the circumstances, he wasn’t about to protest. The giant, divinely handsome, bearded, pipe-smoking man behind the desk was not ...one you’d screw around with. However, the gray eyes, though steely, weren’t quite those of a Wall Street banker. They held a hint of compassion.
Unable to meet those eyes, DeMille looked at the angel by his side. He’d always thought angels had wings. This one didn’t, though he could certainly fly. He’d carried DeMille in his arms up through the stratosphere to a city of gold somewhere between the Earth and the moon.MoreLess
“Dead or alive?” the angel Gabriel said.
“I want to make him an offer he can’t refuse. Can even I do this to a dead man?”
“Oh, I see,” said Gabriel, who didn’t. “It will be done.”
And it was.
Cecil Blount DeMille, confused, stood in front of the desk. He didn’t like it. He was used to sitting behind the desk while others stood. Considering the circumstances, he wasn’t about to protest. The giant, divinely handsome, bearded, pipe-smoking man behind the desk was not ...one you’d screw around with. However, the gray eyes, though steely, weren’t quite those of a Wall Street banker. They held a hint of compassion.
Unable to meet those eyes, DeMille looked at the angel by his side. He’d always thought angels had wings. This one didn’t, though he could certainly fly. He’d carried DeMille in his arms up through the stratosphere to a city of gold somewhere between the Earth and the moon.MoreLess
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