The Infernals: A Samuel Johnson Tale (The Samuel Johnson Series)
John Connolly
Language: English
Pages: 336
ISBN: 1451643098
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From New York Times bestselling author John Connolly, a wonderfully strange and brilliant novel about a boy and his dog and their journey to escape the fires of hell.
“Roald Dahl meets Harry Potter”* in this wonderfully strange and brilliant novel about a boy, his dog, and their struggle to escape the wrath of demons.
Young Samuel Johnson is in trouble. Not only is his eyesight so poor that he mistakenly asks out a letter box on a date but an angry demon wants revenge for Samuel’s part in foiling the invasion of Earth by the forces of evil. When Samuel and his faithful dachshund, Boswell, are pulled through a portal into the dark realm, home of the Infernals, it gets its chance.
Catching Samuel won’t be easy, for the Infernals have not reckoned on the bravery and cleverness of a boy and his dog; a hapless demon’s loyalty to the duo; or the presence of two clueless policemen and an unlucky, if cheerfully optimistic, ice-cream man.
Most of all, no one has planned on the intervention of an unexpected band of little men who also have recently found themselves in the underworld. If you thought demons were frightening, just wait until you meet Mr. Merryweather’s Elves. . . .
*My Shelf Confessions
King Suckerman (D.C. Quartet, Book 2)
from which they had just come. “Er, Master,” he said. “You told me that way lay misery, torture, poor food, and certain dismemberment at the hands of Mrs. Abernathy.” “I did indeed, Wormwood, but only Mrs. Abernathy could have brought Samuel here, so wherever she is, that’s where he will be too.” He put his foot down and gunned the engine. The car lifted slightly, like a horse yearning for the start of a big race. Then Nurd released the brake, and they were off. Wormwood looked at his master
that tone with me,” said Jolly. “We left it here. All of us. Not just me. And of course this is where we left it: you can see the tire marks.” “Were the keys still in the ignition? Very unwise to walk away and leave the keys in the ignition. Invitation to thieves, that is.” If a volcano could have assumed the form of a small human being, and had then been photographed on the verge of eruption, it would have looked not unlike Jolly at that moment. When he spoke, though, he was remarkably calm.
Malevolence’s favor. After all, there wouldn’t have been much to show of the boy if he’d been dropped from thousands of feet onto hard rock. True, his consciousness would have survived, but she wasn’t certain that she could reconstitute a human as easily as a demon, and a mulch of messy blood, bits of bone, and fragments of tissue lacked a certain immediate identifiability. She could, she supposed, have scraped him into a jar, stuck a label on it reading “Samuel Johnson (Most of Him),” and
Very exciting, I’d say.” “I don’t approve of change,” said Brompton. “Or excitement.” He shifted from one foot to another, and looked uncomfortable. “Mind you, I shouldn’t have had that last cup of tea. Gone right through me, that has. I’m about to have an accident. Look, mind the shop for five minutes while I go and, you know, make myself lighter in a liquid way.” “Right you are,” said Edgefast. “I’ll look after things.” Desperate though he was to relieve himself, Brompton took a moment’s
people like you who cause unrest … 3. Duke Kobal was officially the demon of comedians, although only the really unfunny ones, with additional responsibility for the jokes in Christmas crackers. You know, like What’s the longest word in the English language? Smiles, because there’s a “mile” between the first and last letters. A mile. No, a mile. Yes, as in distance. Yes, I know there’s not really a mile, but—okay, stop talking. I’m serious, you’re starting to annoy me. No, I don’t want to wear a
