The Devil's Intern by Donna Hosie

The Devil's Intern (The Devil's, #1)The Devil’s Intern by Donna Hosie
My rating: 4 of 5 teacups

“Can we go back and sit down? Dancing is for girls.”
“I am a girl, Mitchell,” replies Medusa, “and try telling The Devil that.” We both look over at the master of Hell, who has cleared the dance floor with his moshing.”

I know humour is subjective, but I found this book hilarious. As in, laugh-out-loud oh-no-people-are-looking-at-me hilarious. Seriously, it’s dangerous to read this in a public place.

I’m not even much of a comedy person. Give me fast-paced, angsty drama over giggles any day. But this book was such delicious fun. It’s about Mitchell Johnson, who got hit by a bus and now works in Hell as the Devil’s intern. When a device surfaces that can send people back in time, Mitchell suddenly sees an opportunity to prevent his own death and get the hell out of there (pun intended).

It’s full of snarky humour. The dynamics between Mitchell and his friends make this book so so funny. There’s the feisty Medusa – Mitchell’s best friend who sarcastically gives him crap all the time. There’s Elinor – a girl from 17th-Century London who died in the Great Fire of 1666. And there’s Alfarin – an enormous, warm-hearted Viking prince. And that’s before we even get to the Devil himself – a total drama queen.

The story behind the humour is compelling and doesn’t neglect to consider the time travel paradox, but this is definitely a book for those looking for some pure entertainment. The characters bicker; Mitchell is a regular confused teenage boy, trying to understand girls; the author’s comic-timing is PERFECT. Such an enjoyable read. It’s a shame that it’s so difficult to adequately describe the merits of humour books – I just recommend you go read it.

I’ll leave you with this little scene so you can see what Mitchell and Medusa’s relationship is like:

I shift her weight a little and she falls even closer against me. She smells like clean sheets, which is really nice and reminds me of my mom and my old bed and my old life.
“You smell like sleep.”
“I smell like sheep?”
“What? That’s not what I said.”
“You said I smell like sheep.”
“Sleep, not sheep.”
“How can someone smell like sleep? It’s a verb. Verbs don’t smell.”
“I meant you smell like clean sheets.”
“Are you saying I usually smell like dirty sheets?”
“Forget I opened my mouth.”
“You said I smell like sheep.”
“I said you smell like sleep. I was trying to be cute. I thought girls like guys who are cute.”

Leave a comment

Please be polite. We appreciate that. Your email address will not be published and required fields are marked

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.