The Life And Loves Of A She Devil Novels & Stories

The she-devil stealing my hair tie to get at my perfect chocolate mane is a long-standing battle that will never end. Worse, there are enough degrees of separation between us in lineage that it’s more expected than shock factor if we tie the knot. Getting skewered after wrapping my life and my wrist to someone is not on my endless to-do list. Not even on the backup to the backup of alternatives that exist. She’s not a woman. She’s a she-devil in panther demon skin. Gross. Even the concept, for diplomacy's sake, is too much.

“What happened next?” “The devil fell in love with the woman that he’d do whatever she desired from getting revenge to acquiring even an entire kingdom. He’d happily go to hell for her or drown for her but the human didn’t love him back. Or maybe she did in her own way but she didn’t trust him enough that at the first sign of trouble, she pushed him away.” My eyes suddenly watered. “What happened to the devil?” “The woman left him and he withered away. His love story didn’t have the ‘they lived happily ever after’ shit. That’s only for the lucky ones. Since he’s the devil, he only lived.”

You can’t even take a single hit. “Now, now, Derrick. Don’t leave me so quickly. The fun has just started and you don’t want me to get bored now, do you?” I whistled and my eyes glowed red under the darkness. Derrick trembled as he witnessed that, “Who–who are you?” My grin widened, “I am the She devil. Nice to meet you.” *************************************

He wouldn't dare tell Devon. Derrick ignored me as he continued blabbing on. " She hated you! Wanted to kill you! Do you what she always called you, a devil! You were the devil, Devon! " “That’s a lie!” Devon snapped. “Oh?” Derrick taunted. “Because I remember holding her while she cried about how much she hated you. Devil Devon! " “That is not true!” I shouted, my voice breaking. Derrick laughed. “Isn’t it? Then why did you try to forget your sorrows by sucking my dick?! "

And it's ironic because that day was the first day he ever truly called my name with compassion. Blinking away the memory, I bend over the sink and splash water on my face, a devilish grin on. Maybe Papa was right when he said I was from the devil. Else, which child would tie her father to his favorite wooden chair and set him on fire? I felt nothing that day, even though I had a beating heart. I didn't pity him, even though I had a soul that was meant to be kind. Then again, maybe I was once an angel, a mockingbird killed by the wickedness of the ones I loved the most. Maybe it was Papa that turned me into the devil I became today.

The Devil rarely revealed her true self; even now, she disguised herself as a mere human, a beautiful woman. "Do you know the type of people I despise?" she continued, taking a seat on the couch. "I can see that the chair you're tied to is intended for sexual purposes. You certainly have refined taste," she said with disdain. "But let me proceed. I loathe individuals who exploit others, especially the weak. Just because you possess power doesn't give you the right to trample upon others." Sweat trickled down James' forehead. In a moment of panic, he lost control and wet himself.

It felt light and elegant, much better than the heavy dress. I moved across the room to pick up a book that Shakespeare wrote. I loved to read once, too, during my free time, but without the means, singing became my only hobby. Through Deva's diary, I read about her, her likes, dislikes, how she would sniff an old book or a new one, embracing the feeling of having a piece of art for her to study and engrave into her memories. Her lover used to bring her books that she kept away in a stash. Deva was kind, enough that her body was given to me. It was for the best that she passed away not having to continue breathing in a life this sorrowful.

she scrunches her face. "Maria Wilson Elizabeth, 1990, 30 years old born on March 5. An only child, Grew up in South Hampshire, had car accidents with parents at age 10, raped at 11, became an assassin at 11, always disguising like a superhero and has killed seventeen notable people, " "How the fuck did you get to know all these about me?" She asked with outright shock. "I know how to play my game well, young lady," He replied surly.

“Because I decide when you get to fall apart… and today, you don’t.” She sank back against the seat, sulking in silence, the sharp ache between her thighs making her bite her lip. In that moment, the thought that had haunted her since meeting him: Is Lucian worse than the devil? vanished entirely. Because now she knew the truth. The devil might tempt. But Lucian Devlin denied. ---- Serena POV

Whether it was the brushes touching my eyes or the fact that I was getting married today. Today was my wedding. The day my family would finally be safe. The day I would finally feel safe. The day my name would change from Natasha Whitmore to Natasha Castillo. The day I would marry the devil himself. He was many things, but a devil? I wasn’t sure. Many believed he killed his parents, which was why he was referred to as the devil. Others said it was because of the people he was connected to. But he didn’t look like someone who’d do those things.