Stormy Nights at Seventh House

It’s not easy facing your personal demons—especially when they keep bringing cake. Charged with the stewardship of Hell’s Seventh Manor, Lady Amphelise Vexx has been down in the depths of Hell for at least half of eternity (it feels like more). Holding the dark fort against violent soul-storms, recalcitrant demons, and the importunate complaints of the deceased and the living alike—it’s enough to try anybody’s patience, and Phel’s running on empty.

At least there’s jazz and cocktails to lighten the days, and the culinary perfections of the demonically talented Jessop.

An influx of visitors (damned), helpers (condemned), and sightseers (fools) threatens to bring the delicate edifice of Seventh House crashing down once and for all. Phel hasn’t seen this much activity in a thousand years and she’s not a fan.

But maybe it isn’t all bad. Maybe it’s even a little bit… good. There might be joy to be found even in the depths of Hell, if Phel’s willing to give it a try. And why not? It’s only Hell. What could possibly go wrong?

The strangely charming Decopunk adventure Chronicles of Vexx concludes in this mosaic of improbable sunshine and implausible joy. Oddly cosy, drily amusing, and weirdly whimsical, Stormy Nights at Seventh House displays all of Charlotte E. English’s trademark quirky humour with a core message of comfort, hope and joy—even when you’re in Hell. It may be a fate worse than death, but it’s home.