Who fancies a bit of supernatural smut in the form of a demon romance? The fabulous Ollie Fox, who has contributed some fabulous stories – both natural and supernatural – to the audio porn project, is here to share an extract from their latest book! Naturally when they offered me an extract which included sexual tension and flirtation with an actual demon, the eager little goth in my heart could not resist. Here’s the blurb for the book: “Most people get a guardian angel, but Lily Collins learns that she was assigned a guardian demon. Now she has to choose whether to join him in Hell as his semi-immortal consort, or keep the life she loves but never see him again, in life or death. And she has to decide fast, because the longer she waits, the graver the danger…to herself, and to the world.” I love Ollie’s work, and the way they manage to make the supernatural so powerfully human. Check out the fantastic extract below to whet your appetite, and buy the book to read more!
The Guardian – a demon romance
Lily let Maldeus draw her to her feet. “Could that wraith—could any of those things—hurt you?”
“Unlikely,” he said. “Demons are very hard to hurt, and much, much harder to kill.”
“Then where are all of your scars from?” she asked. “Or are those just, like, cosmetic?”
“They are not,” he said, sitting her down at the table. “I’m getting your coffee and breakfast, just one moment.”
She took a deep breath, anxious about being alone, but nodded.
It took less than a second; he popped into her kitchen, and then back, now with an iced coffee in one hand, and a breakfast sandwich in the other. He set both down in front of her. “I made you the sandwich, before all of that,” he said. “But I thought the coffee might go down better cold.”
“You are good at this,” she said. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”
“I’d never tried before,” he said, “but this was fairly simple. I’ve seen you put it together hundreds of time. As for my scars,” he said, sitting down with her, “those are very, very old, and they were made by beings of a much higher order than wraiths or ghosts or unnamed spirits.” She just looked at him. “Angels,” he said. “A very long time ago, when mankind was still figuring out that sticks could be used as rudimentary tools, there was a war between Hell and Heaven. That war lives on in human traditions and literature, but nowhere else. I fought in battle, and I sustained many injuries, and I gave many more.” He put his hand over the scars on his cheeks.
“Wow,” she said. “Do they still hurt?”
He smiled a bit. “No. But I am proud of them. I earned each one.”
“I guess so,” she agreed. “So…who won? Heaven or Hell?”
“Earth,” he said. “Because we made a truce. We don’t battle any longer, and we concentrate our efforts on keeping Earth safe.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and the cold soothed her burning throat. “Thank you,” she said then. “For—for stopping that thing. The wraith. I don’t know if it could have hurt me, but…”
His smile faded. “It never will,” he said. “That is why I’m here. I protect you from threats, whatever they might be. And if another of those beings tries to harm a hair on your head, I won’t bother with a ward. It will wish it had never been created.”
For a moment, she saw it all again—the firelight in his black eyes, the smoky horns from his head.
And then he looked at her again, and they vanished. “Did you have a nightmare last night? Fear without a true source, like a nightmare or anxiety, could have drawn it to you, unfortunately.”
“No,” she said, and her cheeks went pink. “It wasn’t a nightmare.” She looked at him and picked up her breakfast sandwich.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because if it—”
“It was a sex dream,” she said, flatly.
He fell quiet for a moment. “Ah.”
“Please,” she said, “tell me that didn’t draw it to me.”
“Well,” he said slowly, “if that’s what you want, I won’t tell you, but…”
“You’re kidding,” she said. “I have one hot dream that I didn’t even get to finish, and I get a Silent Hill monster in my bedroom?”
“It would,” he said, “have been drawn to…oh, how should I put it? The increase in energy you were putting out that didn’t have a specific outlet. Aimless arousal, whether fear arousal or otherwise, will sometimes draw certain things, if you’re in a place and time where they’re already active.”
“Neat,” she said, and picked up the sandwich. It was good, especially since her stomach was painfully empty, and she forced herself to eat it slowly. “Love that. How do I fix it?”
“You don’t,” he said. “If you have another dream like that, or any other such reaction, you tell me, and I don’t leave you alone. It’s simple.”
She lowered her sandwich. “So you’re saying if I’m randomly horny, I need to tell you so you can stay close,” she said flatly.
“Yes. Or anxious, or depressed, or anything else. Any other strong emotion that may not have a direct source. Is there something wrong with the sandwich?”
“No,” she said. “Just usually if I’m horny, if at all possible, I prefer to—you know—do something about it.”
“And what’s stopping you?” he asked, a little testily. “You just need to make sure I’m nearby.” And then he saw her face again and let out a snort. “I’ve been with you for over ten years. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy,” she said, irritated by his cluelessness, and by the fact that it actually didn’t bother her as much as she thought it should. “You—”
And then she heard a noise and froze, forgetting to be annoyed with him, forgetting everything except fear.
“It’s your phone, little one,” he said, gently, not angry with her, not even when she’d been snapping at him. “It’s still upstairs. I’ll get it and be back in just a moment.”
“No—” she said, not wanting him to go. But she knew that was silly. “You said you put up new, uh, wards?”
“Yes,” he said. “I won’t be a moment.” He patted her hand, and then he was gone.
She closed her eyes. If she didn’t look, then nothing could pop up at her, surely. Except now her imagination provided a lot of ideas of what could be popping up anyway, and she opened her eyes again and looked around wildly.
But it was just her living room, as it always was.
He came back before she’d finished looking around. “Lily, your anxiety isn’t going to help if the wards weaken,” he warned gently. “Even I could feel it from upstairs.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t really help it, can I?” she snapped.
“Here’s your phone,” he said, smiling faintly. Her anger didn’t upset him. “You’re going to need to watch your tone, Lily. I did tell you I was in charge, didn’t I?”
And for some reason, that put another puncture in her grumpiness…because it put a puncture in her anxiety.
Because she trusted Maldeus, despite everything. And if he was in charge, then she was safe; and if she was safe, she couldn’t be afraid; and if she wasn’t afraid, then she didn’t need to be angry to try to push through it.
“That’s it,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry I took a moment. Your phone had fallen behind your bed after this morning’s excitement, and I had to find it and fish it out.”
“You don’t have like…demon powers to help you reach through the bed?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” he said, “when we were created of Hellfire, we were imbued with changeable forms and the ability to rescue cell phones from any location.”
She looked at him, and he was looking at her, mouth straight.
And then she started to giggle, and that broke the tension for good. It wasn’t even that funny, but she needed the laugh, so she was still giggling as she turned on her phone and checked the messages. “Okay,” she said, “Gabriel wants to drop off some donuts, bless him. Is there a particular kind you want?”
“I think I’ve found that I don’t much care for sweets,” he said. “But thank you. That’s very sweet of you to offer.”
“You just said you don’t like sweet,” she teased idly.
“I’ll make an exception for you,” he said, his voice low as ever.
She looked up sharply, wondering if he’d meant that to sound like innuendo, or…she shook her head and went back to the phone, requesting a couple of specialty donuts from the local independent shop. “He’s going to have his husband drop them off. Wait. Is—would—Kevin’s got the baby, would the baby be safe here?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Yes,” he said gently. “The wards affect the location, not just you. And besides, I don’t think that wraith is attracted to just anyone.”
“You mean you think it’s out to get me? That’s very reassuring,” she said.
“You live here,” he said with a shrug. “There may be other factors. Anyway, the baby will have its own guardian, remember? A child’s angel isn’t much good, but it would be sufficient against such a thing.”
“You really don’t like angels, do you?” she asked. “Is it because you fought them all those years ago?”
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “The battle angels I respect. Archangels aren’t so bad, either. But the guardians…well. I was fairly neutral on them for a long time, but then I was given the chance to observe you, for a moment, to see if I wanted to be your guardian. Eat your sandwich, Lily, unless your stomach is bothering you.”
It wasn’t, so she picked it up obediently.
“I saw, in that moment, all of your past, and I also saw the potential of who you could be. I liked you very much, but I saw also that you were not protected as you should be. Not by the adults around you, and not by the guardian assigned to you.”
“You said they have to follow rules,” she said.
“I don’t care,” he said, quite firmly. “They knew perfectly well what you were going through. They should have broken the rules and interfered.” He shook his head then. “But it is no matter. You’re protected now.”
“Is…is that why you chose me?” she asked. “You said yesterday it was because I wanted to make my own purpose in the world. But was it also because you—felt sorry for me?”
“Sorry? Oh, no, Lily. I did not feel sorry for you. I wanted to protect you, yes, but sorry did not enter into it. No. I wanted you because I could see your strength, your stubbornness, your kindness, and a few other things that I didn’t yet know the names of. I knew that, in one way or another, if I were to guard someone, we would be together forever. Friends or otherwise. I didn’t care which at the time. I just knew that you were someone worthy of knowing for that long, and I wanted to be the one to do it.”
Well. It was definitely hard to be angry with someone who gave a speech like that. Her cheeks flushed. Her phone plinked again, and she picked it up, glad for a distraction.
He laughed a little. “You never were good at handling compliments.”
“I’ve gotten better,” she said, “but that’s, uh…that’s…a new one. Kevin and the kiddo will be here in a bit, I guess.” She finished her sandwich and got up to throw away the paper plate. “Thank you for breakfast. And, you know, for possibly saving my life and all that.”
“You thanked me for that already,” he said with a smile. “But of course.”
“Oh.” She put the plate in the trash and turned around to grab a napkin to wipe her greasy fingers. “You know, not that I’m not grateful, but—if I died, it would kinda solve your problem for you, wouldn’t it? I mean, I’d have the afterlife you think I’m supposed to have, probably with you like you want, and there wouldn’t be the conundrum of waiting—”
His hand closed on her wrist, then. It wasn’t hard, it didn’t hurt, but it was firm. She looked up.
His face was inches from hers. And it was not happy. His mouth was curved into a frown, and his black eyes were literally blazing again.
“Never,” he said, “ever suggest something like that again. Ever. Do you understand me?”
She gaped at him for a moment, struggling to speak. “Y-yes. Sir.”
He drew back a little, and his grip on her wrist loosened a little. “First of all, no. If something happened to you that I could have prevented, your afterlife with me would be heavily marred by that knowledge, by the fact that I did not protect you the way I should have. That is not what I want. Second…” He hesitated a moment, and his face softened. “I don’t think that wraith had this power, but there are some that could kill you so thoroughly that you do not have an afterlife.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“I would not joke about this,” he said, looking down at her, and his hand came up to stroke his knuckles over her cheek. “There is a possibility that you will choose to end my guardianship, and I will not see you again. But at least I will know that you’re safe, and your life and afterlife will be a happy one. I can live on knowing that, even missing you. But knowing that you’d ceased to be completely, under my watch…” He shook his head, apparently unable to express how it would make him feel.
She looked up at him, frowning a little. “Mal? I’m okay, you know,” she reminded him gently. She hesitated, and then reached out to hug him.
He let her, and after a moment, seemed to sink into it a little. He let out a huff of air, and pressed his face into her shoulder, before he wound his arms around her and hugged her back.
What had it been like? To see her, to be around her for so long, to care about her as much as he seemed to, and yet to be unable to receive any sort of affection in turn?
“I’m okay,” she said again. “You’ve been taking care of me. You’ve been doing a good job.” She paused. “Even if you’ve been watching me masturbate, you pervert.”
If you’d like to buy a copy of The Guardian – a demon romance, check out Ollie’s website which lists all the places you can purchase the ebook. Or get a free copy by supporting Ollie on Patreon!