Tag Archives: southern-gothic

Two Minutes to Midnight – Devil at the Crossroads by Cornelia Grey


Published:  September 23rd 2013 by Riptide Publishing

Pages: 75

Summary: The devil covets more than his soul …

Six years ago, Logan Hart sold his soul to the devil to become the greatest bluesman of all time—and now the devil has come to collect.

The irony is that Logan squandered his gift. High on fame, money, and drugs, he ignored his muse and neglected his music. And despite managing to escape showbiz in a moment of clarity, it’s too late to redeem himself. All that’s left is to try to go out with some dignity. Alas, the prospect of an eternity in Hell isn’t helping much with that goal.

But Farfarello, the devil who bought Logan’s soul, isn’t ready to drag him down to Hell quite yet. He’s just spent six years working his ass off to whip a bluesman into shape, and he refuses to let that—or the opportunity for more sinful pleasures with Logan—go to waste.




Devil at the Crossroads. I didn’t even know that it was a MM book at first. The title itself was enough. Southern gothic as its finest!

Then I realised it’s MM “romance”. No need to explain my interest.

Cornelia Grey reinterpretated, even demithyfied the classic faustic myth of making the pact with the Devil. The main character is so similar to (in)famous Robert Johnson (there’s a legend that he went to Dockery Plantation crossroads, the devil himself tuned his guitar and he sang of his dealings with the Devil until he was six feet deep – yes, there were hellhounds on his trail, of course) – he’s the musican, he wants to play blues, he wants the major changes. He gets it, he makes a deal sealed with the kiss (that’s the Supernatural influence, I bet). Expect, contrary to the legends, the kiss is hot, passionate and erotic, since the Devil appears to be the very, very handsome rockman with the red eyes.

Like I said, Devil at the Crossroads is the deconstrucionist (I dare not to say hermeneutical) story. And I liked the twists.

I liked the split narrative, the naturalistic descriptions – who ever dare to say that the spit of his character gathered at the corner of his mouth?

Sold My Soul - Brunswick, MD - 1991

That’s right.

Rating: 4/5
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Posted by on September 27, 2013 in reviews


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