Demon's Redemption

Demon's Redemption

Anastasia Rabiyah Sandy Samson

Price: $3.50


Mary and Sam, whose paths parted years before, are thrown into a hilarious mix-up when an overly zealous demon decides to play the role of an angel. Malarak breaks the rules of Heaven and Hell in an attempt to reunite the two lovers he thinks belong together. It sounds noble, but it's mostly a ploy to impress Beliana, the angel who holds the demon's dark heart. Can a demon do an angel's job and fix the wrongs in these two lovers' past, or will everything fall apart like it always does when Malarak tries to do something good? From the minds of fantasy authors Sandy Samson and Anastasia Rabiyah, Demon's Redemption is a tangled-up tale of true love and acceptance riddled with laughter.

PUBLISHED BY: Purple Sword Publications
ISBN: 978-1-936165-21-6
CATEGORIES: Romantic Fiction, Paranormal, Romantic Comedy
KEYWORDS: romantic comedy, demon, angel, paranormal, fantasy



COPYRIGHT Sandy Samson/2009

“Mommy! Look! Come on, hurry. There’s a giant green butterfly trying to get in!”

Beliana wiggled her antennae in concern as the boy pointed at her, shouting for his mother. Only an ancient, battered screen door separated them. She loosened her grip on the wire mesh, ready to swoop off into the night if it came to that. A young woman holding a dripping pan in one hand and a dish towel in the other appeared from a nearby room and knelt down beside the child.

“It’s a luna moth,” she said, grabbing his wrist just as he reached out to poke at the screen. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Beliana stretched luxuriously, pulling her wings far behind her slim body, and let go, taking to the cool night air with long, slow sweeps. She turned a circle, saw the mother and child watching wide-eyed, and gave them a graceful dip before heading toward the forest.

The moon was so bright that she caught glimpses of her shadow skimming across the ground. The warm but not yet muggy air made for one of those delicious early summer evenings that demands adventure. So when she reached the brook that bordered the forest, instead of crossing it, she turned downstream and flitted above the shimmering water, watching her reflection dance in every ripple. The swamp critters were coming to life, calling one another to meet and greet and make new swamp life.

She passed over a particularly large and ugly toad, and circled back for a closer look. This was no ordinary toad. It was ancient, misshapen, with one crooked leg, a twisted head, and huge gray warts covering its back. It glanced up at her as she dipped low, and let out a pathetic “Harrup.”

She stopped in mid-flight and landed on a clump of marsh grass. “Is that you, Malarak?”

The toad harrupped again and lowered its head until its chin touched the wet ground.

“Come on, talk to me. What’s up?”

The toad rocked from side to side, pushing with its good leg, turning away until its back was to her.

She glanced around, sniffing the air. Another toad, smaller and healthier looking, sat on a tiny island a few feet away. After making sure no owl or other terrible beast was watching, she leapt out of the luna moth and into the young toad. The moth paused a few seconds before taking to the sky.

Beliana flexed her new muscles, getting a feel for the toad’s body while she studied her friend. Malarak seemed oblivious to the world. She slipped into the shallow water, swam silently until she was behind the old toad, and jumped, landing on top of the warty creature. Hooking her back legs under his behind, she tucked her head down and rolled into the water, dragging him along in a ball of flailing limbs.

A few powerful kicks brought them to shore. “That’ll teach you to ignore me,” she said, snorting water out of her nose.

He didn’t answer, didn’t pounce on her in retaliation, didn’t scream, didn’t laugh, didn’t do anything but sit motionless, his eyes cast down.

A mosquito buzzed past, and before she knew what was happening, her tongue shot out, wrapped itself around the tiny insect, and pulled it into her mouth. She swallowed fast so she wouldn’t have to taste it, and sidled up to Malarak. “Come on, what’s wrong?” she asked, rubbing her head against his.

A sack beneath his chin blew itself up to enormous proportions and then collapsed, rending the air with a mighty croak that set a hundred other toads in the swamp trying to match it. “You wouldn’t understand. You angels have no idea.”

“And you demons have too many ideas. That’s your problem. Trust me, Malarak. You don’t need to plot and plan everything you do. Just take what comes along and be happy. Life’s a lot better that way.”

“Easy for you to say. You angels, you get everything handed to you on a silver platter. But us, we got to work for every damn thing in our lives. Nothin’ comes free, and nothin’s easy.” A fat mosquito drifted past, so heavy that it’s wildly beating wings barely kept it in the air, and Malarak’s tongue zapped it. His jaw worked, and he shook his head in disgust. “Bloody beast. It just ate. I hate it when they just ate. Skunk, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Poor you. I know the story. Just because you were born a demon, you think the whole universe is out to get you. That’s rubbish. And enough with the silver platter stuff, already. I’ve been an angel for five thousand years, and I’ve never even seen a silver platter. I don’t fit in with high society. But quit changing the subject. What’s with you?”


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