Page 3 of I Accidentally Summoned a Demon Boyfriend

“This is some bullshit.” I sighed and looked over to see the book I’d told Keri about still sitting on the coffee table.

To Conjure Love. The book that had me wishing love was so dang easy. True, the couple in the story still had trials, but damn it. One good spell, and the man of your dreams just drops into your lap. What girl wouldn’t want it to be that easy? No more swiping left on twelve hundred duds just hoping a decent guy would show up. No more going to stupid meet ups praying the love of your life was feeling equally pathetic and signed up for a singles mixer.

I picked up the book, flipping through the pages, and sighed. “Wouldn’t it be nice… I could try it. I mean, what would it hurt?”

Giving up on the silly idea, I tossed the book aside on the couch. The damn thing bounced off the plush peach couch cushion and somehow slid underneath the mosaic coffee table I’d picked up in Bangladesh. When I bent down to pick it up, I couldn’t help but laugh. The book had fallen open to the exact page where the spell was laid out in full detail, and what did my drunken mind think?

How could I not do it? The universe clearly wants me to, damn it!

The words on the page moved in psychedelic waves as I tried to focus on the list of ingredients. I needed a lavender scented candle, moonlight, and three oils: jasmine, sandalwood, and patchouli.

Thank you, oil sample kits. I had each one and even added a little lavender to the mix, since lavender was my favorite. I read over the spell.

In the cast of moonlight, touch the mixture of oils to your wrists, neck, chest, and forehead, then light the candle and recite the spell.

“Simple enough,” I said and started mixing the oils in a small bowl.

After mixing the oils, I opened the curtains over the large bay window where I typically sat to read. The moon was full and looked like someone had reined it in closer to Earth. I don’t think I’d ever seen it take up that much space! That alone should have told my drunk ass not to be messing with magic, but I kept the dream alive. The moonlight washed into the room, and I hummed.

The bench beneath the window operated as additional storage and was the resting grounds for the tools of my candle making obsession. Lifting the pillow topped lid, I found the perfect candle sitting right on top. It was a large red gothic attempt that was coincidentally perfect for love-summoning magic. I’d used Ylang Ylang oil in the wax, so it would be fragranced as well. Again, this should have been a sign for me to stop. When I was sober, I didn’t believe in coincidences!

With the candle ready, it was time to do the spell. My head was still spinning from all the wine, but I dabbed the oil mixture on my inner wrists and neck before pouring a healthy amount down my cleavage and then touching it to my forehead. Next, I lit the candle and positioned myself where my full body was lit by the moonlight. The hairs on my arms stood as I recited the spell.

“Light of the moon, heat of the flame, bring me the one whose soul knows my name,” I called out to the moon, as if it would somehow make this fictional magic real. Then, I closed my eyes and whispered it three more times. When I opened my eyes, I stood there looking around the room, like I’d actually expected it to work. “Hello? Magical boyfriend, are you there?”

When there was no response to my call—not that I really thought there would be—I blew out the candle and closed the curtains, cutting off the soft moonlight.

“Not even magic can help me,” I huffed as I chugged the last of the wine and headed for the shower. Someday, maybe, I would get a man, but a spell from a random fantasy novel wasn’t going to be the thing to make it happen.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit I spent half an hour in the shower. I’d just gotten a new detachable shower head that made the experience… so much more enjoyable. It wasn’t until the water got so cold my nipples pebbled that I glided out of the bathroom, breast bouncing free, a towel wrapped around my chubby waist. The music was still playing, and it was about three seconds before I was swaying my hips to the rhythm.

I was dancing my heartache away when I saw something—something that made my heart pound in my chest, and I hoped like hell it was because of the wine. I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned to the figure. Surely, it would disappear like the phantom image you can never quite catch. My slow turn wasn’t slow enough though, because as my view shifted, the figure was still there.

“You called?” the deep voice spoke from the corner where the apparent intruder stood.

“Oh, hell no!” I bolted for the door, titties flopping with each step. There was no way I was staying there. I didn’t care who he was. What I wasn’t going to do was sit around and find out what sick shit he wanted to do to me.

Just before I made it to the door—damn me for wanting such a big ass bedroom—the figure appeared in my way. I hadn’t seen or heard him move, but he was there. I skid to a halt, nearly falling on my ass, and in a moment when I should have been terrified, the wine in my system told me it was time to laugh. And I did. I doubled over, clutching my sides.

Why the hell was I laughing when there was an intruder in my home? Because the man in front of me had horns! Actual horns that sprouted from his forehead. His skin was dark with a purple tint, and he had to be at least a foot taller than me. When I stopped laughing, shoulders still bouncing with soft chuckles, I looked him up and down. I noted the dark nodes along the length of his bare arms and the even darker energy that radiated from him.

My brain refused to accept this as reality. This wasn’t an intruder intending to rob me. It was only a dream, a figment of my imagination. I learned a long time ago not to be afraid of the creations of my own mind.

“Damn, I must have fallen asleep.” I glanced back over my shoulder at the bathroom door. “I knew that shower felt too damn good.”

“I’m sorry?” He cocked his head to the side. “Why have you called me here?”

“Oh, well, fuck it. If it’s a dream, I’m going with it.” My mind was already spinning with ideas of how to turn this dream from horror to something a lot more fun. “At least I can get kinky while I sleep!”

“A dream?” his voice rumbled with annoyance as I moved closer to him.

“You have horns!” A hiccup interrupted my giggle as I lifted my hand up to touch them. “I like your horns.” My eyes dropped to the black slacks that covered his lower half. “Do you have another horn?”

“Are you okay?” He frowned at me and I smiled. He looked damn near human in his features: wide nose, sharp jawline, and only a slightly inhuman look to his flesh. For what I assumed was a demon of some sort, my brain had created him to look more like a man I wouldn’t turn down for a second date.

“I’m great, but you can make me better.” Feeling inspired by all the romance and demon smut novels I’d been reading, I pulled the knot loose on the towel and let it fall from my waist. “Make me better, demon bae. You are a demon, right? I read demons come with interesting… tools.”

“I am a demon.” He frowned, and those subtle ridges became far more pronounced. “Where did you read about demonic tools?”

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