Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Coming soon
Also by Andie M. Long
About Andie
A DEVIL OF A DATE
Supernatural Dating Agency Book Two
Andie M. Long
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright (c) 2017 by Andrea Long
All rights reserved.
Cover by J.C. Clarke. Photo from Adobe Stock.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to
My parents
Mick and Dianne
For their love and continued support.
You’re amazing.
I love you.
xxx
Chapter One
Lucy
Leaving Hell, was, well, hell on earth.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was glad to be free of the furnace and back to Withernsea. It’s just that - everything had changed.
I’d watched an episode of Eastenders - Phil Mitchell was now old.
Nerds had become cool with Big Bang Theory and the IT Crowd.
Stars in their eyes wasn’t on anymore.
I was going to need counselling.
I’d kept up with certain things in Hell. We had computers though the internet was limited to what Satan felt we needed to know, and that wasn’t the latest on Kylie and Jason (who’d just released Especially for You when I was kidnapped). Fashion was easy to keep up with as the new residents came fully dressed and I gained an envied designer wardrobe from the many rich wives who’d killed their cheating husbands. That’s how my love of Louboutins had started.
But television. This was all new to me.
When I’d left earth, Grant and Phil Mitchell had just joined Eastenders, my favourite soap opera. I needed to watch twenty seven years of episodes to get caught up. Seeing as that was impossible, instead I was trying to read episode guides on the fan wikis I’d discovered on the net, but that was taking a long time.
I’d spent the best part of two months when I wasn’t working, sat in front of the television while my roommate was at work or sleeping, trying to work out why the latest craze was to watch people living their romantic lives on the television.
When I’d left, Doctor Who had just been pulled off the television due to poor ratings. Now it had been back on for years and I’d missed this Tennant bloke. The sexiest doctor ever. I’d lost a week out of my new life catching up on him alone.
The Fresh Prince of Bel Air didn’t appear to have aged as much as Phil Mitchell. I wondered if he was an undercover supe.
Then there was food. I’d not needed to eat while in Hell. We filled up on the souls of the evil. Now I needed to eat. I was plowing through the latest pizzas while trying to keep healthy via drinking these probiotic things that apparently helped my bowels.
Everything was taking so much getting used to. It was like entering a disco, the bass thumping, the lights flashing - but sped up. At times I’d been glad to get to bed, to sleep and block it all out, and wow these Memory Foam mattresses were the bomb. I’d forgotten how much I’d enjoyed sleeping so I made the most of it while my roommate was downstairs.
I heard footsteps thumping down the stairs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I desperately tried to turn The Only Way is Essex off but Gemma was so loud and she yelled “Arg,” at the top of her voice.
I tried to rip a portal in the air, then remembered I couldn’t do that anymore.
The door banged open and my housemate stood there in his boxer briefs. His hairy, portly belly spilled over, and I glanced up at his middle-aged, balding head. Funny I’d been thinking about Phil Mitchell, I seemed to be sharing an apartment with someone who could be his brother.
“Who the fuck are you?” The guy scratched his bald pate though I noted his nostrils flared. He seemed stuck between thoughts he might be sleepwalking and ones of bashing his glamorous intruder’s head in. A smell emanated from him - great, I’d made him nervous and now I had to suffer. What the hell had he eaten?
I wished I could focus on just his head and didn’t have to see his gut. “Do you have a tee by any chance?” I asked him. “I’m finding it hard to talk to you when you’re half naked.”
“Are you kidding me? You break into my home and you’re asking me to get dressed?”
“I didn’t break in. This is my home.”
He edged towards me slowly, raising his hand up, like I was a cornered frightened dog like the ones on Dog Rescuers, which I’d got a little hooked on. If he came at me with a net, I’d bite his nose off.
“Okay, now take it easy, love. You’re just a little confused. Maybe you live down the street and you’ve had a bit too much to drink and I’ve somehow left the door unlocked. It’s an easy fix. You just have to tell me your address.”
I huffed. “I live here. Fact is, I moved in around April 1991. Then I had an extended holiday somewhere hot and now I’m back.”
“The previous tenant’s lease was given up by her parents because she went missing.” He looked at me and his brows creased. “Which isn’t you as you’re too young. Anyway, she ran off cos her fiancé got his leg over with another woman. She must have been a moose; you’re fit as fuck even if you’re crazy.”
I zoned out as he carried on with lewd suggestions on how we could flat share. He was yapping through TOWIE which was unacceptable.
“Oh! Now I see why my electric bill has gone up. I complained to them that it was too high, it's been you. How long have you been here, sneaking around?”
Another stench wafted over and I scrunched up my nose and tried not to breathe.
“Do you know? I thought fuck I have a crazy woman in my house, but now, seeing you lying on my sofa, looking all sexy in that tight red chemise, I’m thinking either I’m hallucinating or you’re a gift from God.”
As his curtains set fire and his eyes went wide, I guessed he was quickly changing his mind.
Chapter Two
Kim
Zoella coffee mug - check.
Zoella desk tidy - check.
Zoella natty pencils - check.
The most awesome job in the world? Check. Check. Check.
I ran the Supernatural division of Withernsea Dating Agency. My promotion had taken place two months ago, and I was finally finding my feet and settling into the post after a handing over period from my best friend and owner of the agency, Shelley. Or should that be two months of lectures of what I could and couldn’t do.
Well, today she wasn’t here.
Oh no.
Because t
oday was her husband’s 127th birthday. Yes, you heard me right. He was 127 and his fertile window had opened today. As it only lasted for a week, and then would be a further 101 years before it reappeared, Shelley was having a week's holiday to concentrate on the making of a little supernatural baby. Her husband was a total stud muffin, all dark and delicious, even if he was one of the undead, and I wouldn’t have been human if I wasn’t envious that Shelley was having a whole week of down and dirty shenanigans. And I was human though my bestie had discovered she was a witch/wyvern cross. Yes, she’d had quite the adventure the last few months. Well, we all had.
But I wasn’t jealous she was making a baby. Nah, she could keep that. The only thing I wanted drooling near me was a hot man, or even a cute puppy. But babies? No way. Far too much fun to be had when you were single. Though I was swearing off any repeat performances with any man for now, human or otherwise, with where my last relationship had got me.
Anyway, today it was time to make a few adjustments to the dating contract. I rubbed a little Soap and Glory hand food into my palms as I cast my eyes over the current agreement on my laptop. Oh the smell of it was divine, the hand cream that is, not the computer. I made a mental note to stop by Boots on the way home for another tube and then remembered that a quick trip to the shops wasn’t so easy anymore. Shaking my head, I looked at my screen once again.
Terms of agreement
I (insert name here), of (insert address here), hereby declare that my membership of Withernsea Dating Agency, shall be kept secret from all of human origin unless prior checks have been made.
Checking was Theo doing his vampire mind mojo, asking humans on the books if seeing a supernatural being would freak them out, then making them forget he asked the question. Shelley ran the human side of the operation and with Theo’s vampire speed it was easy for her husband to just ‘pop by the office’, when required.
By signing this document, I agree to cause no intentional harm to another human or supernatural being.
I agree that the facts here are true and that I give permission for this document to be passed through a truth serum. Any lies will result in instant cancellation of membership.
We’d had to add this because some supes such as demons never stopped bloody lying.
Now it was time to add in my extra bit.
I agree that should the agency deem it advisable, I will go on a ‘dummy date’ with a member of the team in order to practice dating.
There, done. Now I could pick out all the good looking supes and date them under the pretense of it being to help them. Keeping things nice and casual, just as I needed it right now. As if on cue, the pain in my ass spoke up.
“That’s deplorable. If I still had my magic, I’d make that disappear. You’re taking liberties.”
I flicked my gaze towards the vampire hanging upside down in the corner of my office.
“Yeah, well you don’t. And I’m sick of telling you that we aren’t together any more. I am free to date whoever I choose.”
And here was my current problem and the reason I did not want a regular date. My ex-boyfriend, Frankie, - well, fuck buddy to be entirely honest - had been killed on Halloween by the Devil, then turned by Shelley’s husband, Theo, into a vampire. He’d lost all his previous magical powers, but something had gone awry. Whereas all other vampires body clocks called for slumber between dawn and midday, Frankie didn’t sleep at all. Not one wink. He could however hang upside down for hours in a kind of ‘rest-mode’ but the minute I moved, walked, talked, he was all ears, and they were super-charged-hearing ears now. As a new vampire Frankie should have been desperate for blood, but instead he’d developed a neediness for me. As in, he was scared to be away from me. I’d been the last constant in his life and once his initial blood thirst had dissipated, he’d start craving Kim. Now, I had to say I couldn’t really blame him. I was an amazing shag, but having a vampire in the corner of my office or bedroom for the past two months had been draining, even if my blood stayed in my body.
It had proved impossible to keep him in the ‘Caves’, the place where fledgling vampires were taught about their new bodies and where some vampires went to die. Shelley had told me that the Caves were a place of rebirth and death. If a vampire had tired of the endless night, they could attend for counselling, say an incantation, and turn to dust. They also cared for vampires whose turnings had not gone to plan, like Frankie's, and Shelley’s mother and father volunteered there to give back to the supernatural community of Withernsea. Frankie had been so tormented to be without me that Margret, Shelley’s mum, had asked if I could visit there, to see if it would calm him down. I’d ended up bringing him home as he wouldn’t detach himself from my leg until I promised he could stay with me a while.
Bearing in mind that Shelley had mad witch skillz, she’d done her best to turn his obsession off, but it showed no signs of abating. While I had my house guest, I figured I may as well do a little harmless flirting with the supes of Withernsea and yes it had crossed my mind that while I was at it, I could quiz them to see if they had the power to sever a dependent vamp from my life.
I wouldn’t have minded so much maybe, if Frankie could have still been my fuck buddy, but currently his extra intake of blood wasn’t circulating ALL the way around his body, if you got my drift.
I stared at my Zoella Hb, my eyebrows squishing together. “Oh, there’s no lead in this pencil.”
“You’re making it worse you know, drawing attention to it all the time. I’m getting a complex.” Frankie’s gaze was cast towards his loins and he wrapped his arms over his front.
“I’m on about one of my new set of pencils, not your dick.” I sighed. “Please. Can you go somewhere else today? Either that or cheer up.”
He swooped to the floor and sat in a chair opposite me. “I think I’m depressed, Kim. It’s like I’ve had an extreme makeover and basically no one knows who I am anymore because the outside of me has changed, and it’s changing the inside of me too.”
“You look exactly the same on the outside, Frankie.”
“No I don’t. I’m a little paler and I was always congratulated on my natural glow.”
I started to open my mouth.
“No, I don’t want to buy one of Ebony’s cosmetic palettes. My skin is extra sensitive since my change.”
Well he had been burnt to a crisp by Satan before his regeneration so that wasn’t entirely surprising.
“Look, Frankie,” I sighed. “We’re going to have to come to some kind of an agreement about you giving me some personal space. It’s been a month now since you left the caves. I want to date, I want to work in peace; hell, I want to have time with my battery operated boyfriend or even take a dump without you being pressed against the outside of the bathroom door.”
“I can’t help it. I can’t be without you. When I left your side the Devil killed me.”
“But you’re not dead, you’re undead, and you can have an amazing life. Hey, I can even get you a date.” I pointed at my computer screen.
“No! I’m not ready for the world of dating and I can’t be away from you. I get all worked up if I can’t see you.”
“I’m taking you to see a doctor. There’s the one at the hospital that specialises in supes who looked me over when Satan bit me.”
“I am a doctor.”
“You were a doctor. Now you aren’t. Anyway, thinking about it, it’s probably a psychiatrist we need to visit, not a physician. This situation cannot go on. I need sex.”
“Hit a guy when he’s down, why don’t you? It’s not my fault I can no longer perform.” Frankie bit on his lip forgetting he had fangs and a drop of blood slipped off his bottom lip. “Oh crap, this is really annoying. You need a bloody license to own these things. They’re always sticking out when unwanted.”
“Frankie.” I scratched my chin. “Do you think you’re kind of having boner problems but with your fangs?”
Frankie covered his ears, his mouth gaping open. “I beg
your pardon. Could you insult me any more?” He kicked the bottom of the chair so the casters moved it slightly to the right, so he was looking away from me. “Carry on, I’ve not topped myself yet. Oh, hang on, I’m already dead.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are being beyond dramatic today. I’m being serious. You haven’t got control of your fangs and if you think about it, it’s similar to getting an unwanted hard on. I’m not a dude obviously but maybe there’s some similar chemistry there with how to gain control of them.”
“You can’t control getting a hard on, even thinking of your dead grandma with her rotting teeth doesn’t work 100%.”
I made a retching sound.
“Hey, you were more than willing to pretend to be a corpse when we were role-playing.”
“Only because you had a decent sized dick and knew how to use it. I just overlooked your weird kink.”
“Well, I want to bring something to your attention. Just because we are no longer having sex doesn’t mean we can’t snuggle. Hanging from the ceiling can get monotonous and lonely you know. I might like to slip between the sheets every now and again and get some comfort from my new terrible life.”
Sighing again, I leaned forward on the desk, resting my elbow, and placing my head in my hand. I’d done more sighing the last month than I had coffee drinking - and that was saying something.
“Look, tonight - just for one night - you can have a cuddle. For five minutes. That’s all. Then you’ll have to go back on the ceiling until we can get you that appointment.”
“Five minutes? Is that all I get?”
“Frankie, you don’t sleep and you’re a vampire. I have to put my wards around me at night so you don’t have a midnight feast on my neck.”
“I wouldn’t drink from your neck.” He winked.
A Devil of a Date Page 1
