A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch （Glimmer Falls, #2(122)
A consultancy might be better anyway. More freedom to explore the worlds. More time to spend with his love.
Calladia’s face fell, but she recovered quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Guess you decided to take Isobel up on her offer, after all.”
Wait, Isobel the life witch? Astaroth was briefly confused before realizing Calladia thought he was planning a return to immortality, not just the high council.
After everything that had happened though, Astaroth had come to a conclusion.
The best aspects of himself didn’t come from his demon heritage, though he still wanted to make his mother proud. And though Lilith had a demon’s love of ambition and ruthlessness, more importantly she loved him.
He’d just seen Calladia, Mariel, Ozroth, Themmie, and a pack of random werewolves fight for demon hybrids for no reason other than that it was the right thing to do. Over the years, he’d watched mortals live with such aggressive passion, it boggled the mind. Living on Earth had provided a contact high of sorts, but Astaroth was done letting other people live boldly while he tried to diminish his emotions.
The best aspects of Astaroth were human.
Maybe it was because human lives were brief. They crammed in so much meaning that each day was an adventure. They cared so fiercely that their love stories echoed through time.
He wanted to make his mother proud, but more importantly, he wanted to make himself proud.
Though she was smiling, fear and sorrow shone from Calladia’s beautiful eyes. Astaroth cupped her cheeks, vowing to do whatever it took to erase that pain. “Calladia,” he said with his entire heart, “I don’t want to be immortal again.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“I’m not going to contact Isobel again—well, after I pay her those gold doubloons, damn it. I’m staying mortal.”
After a moment, hope bloomed over her face like an exquisite flower. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed. “I can still do good here, and I hope to get more hybrids on the council going forward—and we should probably expand the council anyway—but as for my life . . .” He trailed off, thinking how to word it.
Words could do a lot, but not everything. His truth was a feeling, precious and warm, held safe within his rib cage. His truth was also in his arms, his equal in every way.
“Calladia Cunnington,” Astaroth said, “my warrior queen. I love you, and I want to spend a life with you. The good and bad and annoying and sublime. I want you to shout at me and kick my arse. I want to tickle your feet and tempt death. I want to live with you, as fully and aggressively as we can.”
By the end of that speech, his eyes were damp.
Calladia was crying, too. “Astaroth, pain in my ass and light of my life . . . I love you, too. I can’t believe how fast this happened, but I wouldn’t trade a moment of it.” She considered. “Well, maybe a few moments. But overall . . . yes. Sign me up for all of that and all of you.” And because Calladia was never predictable, her heart-stoppingly tender smile was followed by her gripping his horns in both fists and hauling him to her mouth. “Let’s do this, warrior king,” she said before kissing him soundly.
The plane erupted with cheers, but Astaroth didn’t hear them. He was lost in a new world comprised of him and Calladia and all the possibilities that awaited them.
The fight. The laughter.
The love.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are so many people who have helped shape this book into its final, gloriously horny, and chaotic form. Thank you first and foremost to Cindy Hwang for taking on these books and encouraging me to be as weird as I want. Thank you to the Penguin Random House team: Jessica Mangicaro, Stephanie Felty, Angela Kim, and Stacy Edwards. You’re the dream team when it comes to getting this book in readers’ hands, and I’m so grateful for your hard work. Thank you to copyeditor Shana Jones for fixing my commas and fielding my incessant questions about how to balance a British protagonist with an American narrative voice, and thank you to artist Jess Miller and art director Katie Anderson for yet another phenomenal cover. The Gollancz team is wonderful, too: Thank you so much to ?ine Feeney, Javerya Iqbal, Jenna Petts, Tawanna Sullivan, Jessica Hart, and Dawn Cooper （who illustrated the gorgeous UK cover）。 And thank you as always to Jessica Watterson, agent extraordinaire, for being the absolute best and fielding all sorts of panicked or strange inquiries from me.
In my personal life, I’m lucky to know many supportive, creative, kind, and talented people. Thank you to everyone who’s cheered me on in this journey: Sarah Tarkoff, Blaise Nutter, John Moore, Jon Jandoc, Bronwyn Beck, Amanda Powers, Brittany Hoirup, Dan Duncan, Rachel Kitzmann, Julie Verive, Meredith Berg, Angela Serranzana, Mish Kriz, Alycia Francis, Ryan and Tina Porterhawk （plus Austin and Asami, the corgi who gives no fucks in any universe’s dog park）， and a million more people. （Sorry if I missed anyone—writing acknowledgments is stressful!） Thank you to the Berkletes, the Wicked Wallflowers Coven, the SDLA Sisters （Ali, Thea, Kirsten, and Katie, who was also my Taylor Swift advisor）， and the Words are Hard crew （Celia, Rebecca, Julie, Victoria, Jenna, Kate, and Claire）。 Thank you to Village Books and Paper Dreams and the Bellingham Barnes & Noble for all the support, Waterstones Liverpool for the delightful TikToks, and every podcast or website that has invited me to come be my odd self and talk about books.