'Have you sold your soul to the devil?' asked the boy.
'Everyybody has sold their soul to the devil,' sighed Christmas. 'That's why you can't get a decent price.'
Harry Christmas has it all: grief, debt, gout, red trousers.
Running away to Caracas might seem like a good idea, but mischief is a greedy companion. Escape turns into tragedy and love becomes shame as he finds himself the agent of far greater havoc ...
