My Angels Aren't Pussies

Interesting post on writing angels and angels in literature.

Because I'm completely self-serving: my angels are not pussies. They are not pretty boys.  They do not sit high on the mountain following the Prime Directive.  They follow orders.  They're God's Spec Ops operators.  Badass beings of light and fire.  Wingtips dipped in blood.

Nor are my fallen angels/demons moustache twirling chumps.  They don't sulk.  They don't cry.  They punish.  They hate.  They murder. They torture.  Because, above all things, they hate mankind.  They're jealous.  And they're really fucking smart.  They're angels that have fallen.  So they've lost some powers.  But they're ageless and they are patient.

For more info on my characterization of angels and demons, check out my novel...DEMON.