Where Can I Read 'The Deal' For Free?

As a hobbyist writer, my best advice would be,first lengthen your portfolio. You can opt for self-publishing in the beginning or getting published in magazines. Based on the feedback, polish your work. After you've built a strong portfolio, write an eye-catching proposal. It should include a catchy title, a summary of your book, a detailed chapter-by-chapter breakdown, target audience, and a sample chapter. To increase your chances to be noticed, network at literary events or online platforms to grab attention of editors who could guide you to the next step. You can also hire a literary agent who can help you navigate the process.

I just finished 'The Deal' last night, and yes, it absolutely has a happy ending! The main couple goes through some intense drama—misunderstandings, family interference, even a temporary breakup—but the resolution is satisfying. They reconcile in a way that feels earned, not rushed. The epilogue is particularly sweet, showing them years later, still deeply in love and building a life together. If you're worried about a bittersweet or open ending, don't be. This one wraps up with all the warmth and fuzziness you'd hope for from a romance novel. The author nails the balance between conflict and payoff.

I've been obsessed with 'A Deal with the Devil' since the first chapter dropped, and that ending? Pure emotional whiplash in the best way possible. The final arc revolves around the protagonist, who's spent the whole story bargaining with a demon for power, finally realizing the cost isn’t just her soul—it’s the people she loves. The demon, who’s been this charming, manipulative force, reveals his true goal: he doesn’t want her soul; he wants her to *replace* him. The contract was never about ownership; it was about finding a successor. The climax is this brutal showdown where she has to choose between saving her family or inheriting the demon’s throne, and the way she outsmarts him? Chills. She rewrites the terms mid-duel, using a loophole about 'unconditional loyalty' buried in the fine print, and forces him to *serve* her instead. The last scene shows her walking away with her loved ones, the demon trailing behind like a shadow, his smirk finally wiped clean. It’s a victory, but the lingering shot of her eyes flickering with his power hints that the corruption might not be gone—just dormant. The epilogue is where the story really sticks the landing. Fast forward five years, and she’s rebuilt her life, but there’s this eerie normalcy to everything. Her little sister, who was the reason she made the deal in the first place, is now a teenager with no memory of the supernatural horrors. The demon’s presence is reduced to a whisper—a cold breeze, a misplaced shadow. But then, in the very last frame, she’s alone in her kitchen, and her reflection *winks* at her with his eyes. The implication is genius: the deal didn’t end; it evolved. She won, but the devil always gets his due. It’s the kind of ending that makes you immediately flip back to chapter one to spot the foreshadowing. The author nailed the balance between closure and lingering dread, and I’ve lost count of how many forum threads are still dissecting that final shot.

I've been obsessed with 'A Deal with the Devil' ever since I stumbled upon it during a late-night reading binge. The author, Elizabeth Dearnley, crafted this dark, seductive tale with such finesse that it feels like she dipped her pen in moonlight and whispered secrets onto the page. Dearnley isn't just a writer; she's a virtuoso of gothic romance, blending Faustian bargains with modern sensibilities. Her background in folklore studies seeps into every chapter—expect cursed artifacts, morally ambiguous angels, and contracts signed in blood that sizzle off the page. The way she twists classic demon tropes into something fresh, like a devil who quotes Wilde while dragging souls to hell, is pure genius. I’ve followed her career since her debut novella 'The Crow’s Banquet,' and trust me, her prose only gets sharper. What makes 'A Deal with the Devil' stand out is how Dearnley layers her characters. The protagonist isn’t some naive damsel; she’s a jaded art thief with a knack for surviving bad decisions, and the devil? Oh, he’s a charming monster in a tailored suit, all smirks and calculated cruelty. Their chemistry crackles because Dearnley understands tension—every dialogue exchange feels like a duel. She also peppers the narrative with obscure myths (ever heard of the Hungarian ‘ördög’? You will now) and art history easter eggs. Rumor has it she spent months researching Renaissance grimoires just to get the incantations right. If you love authors who treat worldbuilding like a blood sport—say, V.E. Schwab meets Erin Morgenstern—Dearnley’s your next obsession. Fun fact: she tweets cryptic clues about her next projects using tarot card emojis. I live for that chaos.

The romance trope in 'The Deal' is classic enemies-to-lovers with a college twist. It starts with Hannah Wells, a studious music major, and Garrett Graham, the star hockey player, clashing over a tutoring session. Their initial dislike is palpable—she thinks he’s an arrogant jock; he thinks she’s uptight. But when Garrett needs academic help to stay on the team, they strike a deal: she tutors him, and he sets her up with her crush. Fake dating ensues, and the chemistry is electric. The forced proximity and banter slowly chip away at their defenses, revealing vulnerabilities. What makes it satisfying is how their growth feels earned. Hannah learns to trust beyond her past trauma, and Garrett sheds his playboy image to prove he’s serious. The trope works because it balances tension with genuine emotional depth, making their eventual confession feel inevitable yet thrilling.

I’ve been obsessed with 'A Deal with the Devil' since I stumbled upon it last year, and the question of a sequel is something I’ve dug into relentlessly. As of now, there isn’t an official sequel, but the way the story wraps up leaves *so much* room for one. The author hasn’t confirmed anything, but fans like me are holding out hope because the world-building is just too rich to abandon. The novel’s blend of dark romance and supernatural politics feels unfinished, especially with that cliffhanger ending where the protagonist’s pact with the demon lord seemed to hint at deeper consequences. I’ve spent hours dissecting forums and author interviews, and while there’s no concrete news, the silence feels deliberate—like they’re waiting for the right moment to announce it. The lore is practically begging for expansion. The demon hierarchy, the unresolved tension between the human realms and the underworld, and that mysterious secondary character who vanished in the final chapters? All sequel bait. Even the protagonist’s ambiguous fate—technically free but forever marked by the devil’s sigil—screams ‘to be continued.’ Until then, I’ve been devouring fan theories. Some speculate the author might be working on a spin-off instead, maybe focusing on the devil’s backstory, which would be equally thrilling. The demand is definitely there; the fanbase practically riots whenever the author posts anything cryptic on social media. If a sequel does drop, it’ll probably break the internet.

The main characters in 'The Deal' are a knockout trio that makes the story sizzle. At the center is Garrett Graham, the college hockey star with a reputation for being untouchable both on and off the ice. Then there's Hannah Wells, the brainy introvert who'd rather study than party, but has a secret crush on Garrett that's been burning for years. The third wheel is Justin Kohl, Garrett's best friend and teammate, who adds the comic relief but also stirs up trouble when his jealousy over Garrett and Hannah's fake relationship turns real. These three create an electric dynamic that evolves from awkward encounters to intense emotional connections, with side characters like Professor Collins and Hannah's roommate Allie adding just enough spice to keep the drama fresh without overshadowing the main trio.

In 'The Ghost's Deal', the ghost's price is steep and deeply personal. The spirit doesn't demand gold or material wealth—instead, it craves something far more intimate: memories. The protagonist must surrender their happiest moments, one by one, leaving them hollow but alive. The ghost feeds on joy, turning vibrant recollections into faded echoes. The cost escalates with each deal. Early bargains might erase childhood laughter or a first kiss, but later exchanges claw at core identity—losing the memory of a parent's face or the reason for falling in love. The ghost's hunger is insatiable, and its currency warps relationships; allies become strangers mid-conversation as shared history vanishes. What makes this price terrifying isn't just the loss, but the creeping realization that the protagonist willingly trades away their humanity, piece by piece, for fleeting supernatural favors.