She burst into tears. Not pretty tears. Ugly, snotty, hormonal sobs. “My father is going to kill you. Then he’s going to resurrect you. Then he’s going to kill you again, slower, while making you watch a marathon of The Bachelor .”
“Leo,” I said. “Leo Fender. No relation to the guitar.” She burst into tears
I was in the middle of hyperventilating into a paper bag when my front door melted. Not broke down. Melted . Into a puddle of black goo that smelled of ozone and burnt sugar. “My father is going to kill you
“You,” she said, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at my face. “You absolute himbo . You did this.” “Leo Fender
Except for the tiny, delicate horns curving back from her temples. They were obsidian, flecked with gold.
“The night at The Styx. The condom that failed. All of… this.”
I KNOCKED UP SATAN’S DAUGHTER: A Demonic Romantic Comedy