In the second installment of the popular series, Heck, Dale E. Basye takes Milton and Marlo Fauster on a journey that is as clever, as laugh-out-loud funny, and as satisfying as the first.
Welcome to Rapacia, where the greedy kids go . . .
When Milton escapes from Heck in a soul balloon made of old clothes, Marlo is the only Fauster child left to take the blame. Bea “Elsa” Bubb, the Principal of Darkness, sends her straight to Rapacia, the circle where greedy kids are tormented by glimpses of a just-out-of-reach, glittering shopper’s paradise called Mallvana. Marlo soon falls under the sway of Rapacia’s assistant principal, a grinning metal rabbit known as the Grabbit that seems to have plans of its own.
Meanwhile, back on the Surface, Milton has his own problems. He is determined to get in touch with Marlo and help her find a way out of Heck. But it’s hard to concentrate when his body and soul don’t seem to hold together the way they used to. Will Milton ever reach Marlo? And if he does, will they both end up as pawns in the Grabbit’s mysterious game?
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: Rapacia: The Second Circle of Heck||Series: Circle of Heck, , #2|
|Release Date: 07-28-2009|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Children's Books|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||Rapacia: The Second...|
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Rapacia: The Second Circle of Heck
The driver, his shape smudged and cloaked in the murky darkness, stood atop the stagecoach and struck a match across his fangs. The bright flare of light felt like an explosion in Marlo’s eye sockets.
The driver’s nightmarish features burned themselves into the back of Marlo’s retinas. Like most of the demons she had met in Heck, he was a creature turned inside out. But this one was even more inside out somehow: a lanky, walking pizza with everything on it held together by a network of pulsating veins and arteries.
“On second thought”—Marlo gulped—“maybe the blindfold wasn’t so bad.”
A pale horse with shiny pink eyes clomped nervously in place in front of the stagecoach. The demon driver pompously puffed out his disgusting chest.
“Snatched away in beauty’s bloom, on thee shall press no ponderous tomb,” he recited in a wet, snooty tone, like a butler with a bronchial infection.
As if things weren’t bad enough, Marlo reflected, now I have to hear his poetry.
Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she saw she was in some kind of subterranean tunnel. She stood up, brushing gravel off her baggy, sequined #1 grandma sweatshirt and sagging turquoise stirrup pants.
After her brother Milton’s unprecedented escape at the Gates of Heck, Marlo had been forced at spork-point into this ugly Rapacia uniform, blindfolded, and s...