Damon Allbright is good at evil. Demon of the Year nominee three years running, his daring plan is to corrupt an Untouchable human and steal her soul.
But Grace Taylor isn’t the saintly, cardigan-wearing, vomit-inducing do-gooder he expects. She’s opinionated, maddening and, worst of all, she reminds Damon of human emotions he’d forgotten long ago.
As the roles between tempter and tempted blur, Damon discovers he has a fight on his hands for his very existence…
First up, I’d like to say a massive ‘Thank you!’ to the lovely Mel for such a gorgeous website and to Cal for bringing Damon and Grace to life. You’ve been brilliant and I love what you’ve done.
This site is aimed to follow the book from the writing of it to (hopefully) publication and beyond. If you want to know what I’m up to in real life, head on over to my blog and say ‘Hi!’ there too.
continue reading Welcome!
I picked up my brush and straighteners and started tackling the tangles that were less like hair and more an alien life form. The brown curly tentacles clung together, mocking me as I tried to battle them into something vaguely presentable. The Grecian goddess look would be good, but in reality, I’d settle for anything that didn’t make me seem like a throwback from the Seventies or one of Jim Henson’s muppets.
The devil doesn’t always wear black; Shakespeare got that wrong. You’ll find me in whatever’s fashionable, whatever makes me look good in this skin. It’s not difficult to turn heads in this human world; they’re pathetic with how easily influenced they are. Succulent souls ripe for the picking.
Damon by name, demon by nature. It makes me laugh. Mortals never see me for what I am until it’s far too late. It’s their pleading I enjoy the most.
My eyes darted sideways. Damon seemed engrossed in his paperwork, giving me a chance to see him properly for the first time. He was gorgeous. He was beyond gorgeous. A strong jaw led up to his beautifully chiselled cheeks, with soft dark eyelashes lowered against them. I fought a sudden impulse to touch his jet-black hair; it seemed to beg for attention. My fingers twitched and he instantly turned his green eyes to meet mine, My face flamed. He’d caught me staring at him. How embarrassing was that? Oh, God, he was divine. What was I going to do?
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the door, with a smile that made my insides dissolve into lustful soup.
“Gurh.”
I could have kicked myself. Gurh? What was that?
Damon smirked. I glared back. This was all his fault. If he’d been some ferret-faced moron with buck teeth and bad body odour, none of this would have happened. He probably smelt good too. Damn him.
The hairs of the back of my neck prickled. I breathed deeply, absorbing the mortal follies blossoming as they had since I arrived in the building, but this time I could sense something more. No, not more… I hesitated. A thrill shivered down my spine as I caught the taste of it; the eerie sensation of finding empty nothingness where glorious sin should be. I savoured the unnaturalness of it: crisp, clean, clear. It would have terrified the few demons of my acquaintance who were talented enough to identify this lack of substance in a mortal, but not me. It was getting closer. My breathing quickened. It had to be her.
I stood abruptly and faced the door, curious to see my adversary, this untouchable human whose soul would become mine.
She bounced into the room, her unruly brown hair framing an entirely unremarkable face. A few extra pounds had settled on her hips but her stride spoke of confidence and security in the person she was; although that was nothing I couldn’t easily address. Her cool emptiness enticed me. This was a void waiting to be filled.