A Match Made in Hell

Perfect for fans of Hannah Grace and The Dagger and the Flame, this scorching debut romantasy follows a young woman who makes a deal with the Devil to escape the underworld only to fall for him instead.

Willow White is dead.

She's annoyed about it. She was supposed to be graduating and turning into a responsible adult, not proving her family right when they called her a failure. Now, thanks to one tiny (if fatal) mishap, she's landed in a dimension named Asphodel that looks suspiciously like Hell.

Determined to redeem herself, Willow makes a deal with Asphodel's ruler, the mysterious and unfairly attractive King Sath: complete seven tasks, resist the seven sins, and he'll let her return to her human existence. But when Sath is temptation itself, sin may be hard to resist...

Battling demons is one thing. Battling her growing feelings for Sath is another. After discovering a demon plot to unleash the worst of their kind, putting everyone in Asphodel at risk of an eternity of torment, Willow is torn: she can complete the tasks, return to the life she was on the brink of rebuilding, and abandon the dead-and Sath-to their grim fate, or she can stay and help him stop the uprising...even if that leaves her trapped in Asphodel forever.

Autorentext

Charlotte Ingham is a romance and fantasy writer from South Wales. When she’s not dreaming up her latest plot twist, she can be found attempting to befriend every animal she meets (past accomplishments include hugging an alligator).

Klappentext

Perfect for fans of Hannah Grace and The Dagger and the Flame, this scorching debut romantasy follows a young woman who makes a deal with the Devil to escape the underworld only to fall for him instead.

Willow White is dead.

She’s annoyed about it. She was supposed to be graduating and turning into a responsible adult, not proving her family right when they called her a failure. Now, thanks to one tiny (if fatal) mishap, she’s landed in a dimension named Asphodel that looks suspiciously like Hell.

Determined to redeem herself, Willow makes a deal with Asphodel’s ruler, the mysterious and unfairly attractive King Sath: complete seven tasks, resist the seven sins, and he’ll let her return to her human existence. But when Sath is temptation itself, sin may be hard to resist…

Battling demons is one thing. Battling her growing feelings for Sath is another. After discovering a demon plot to unleash the worst of their kind, putting everyone in Asphodel at risk of an eternity of torment, Willow is torn: she can complete the tasks, return to the life she was on the brink of rebuilding, and abandon the dead—and Sath—to their grim fate, or she can stay and help him stop the uprising…even if that leaves her trapped in Asphodel forever.

Leseprobe
Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1
There's a five-minute window, in between living and dying, that I can't quite recall.

I remember the beach. I remember so much alcohol running down my throat, I snorted some out my nose. People laughed at me. Noah was furious with my behavior, so I stormed off and climbed the winding, steep path to the top of the cliff, Sasha's hand in mine. We were giggling, shouting obscenities and feeling completely, utterly invincible. Free. I remember peering over the edge.

I remember Sasha screaming my name.

What I don't recall is falling. Maybe a brief moment, right at the start, where it felt like flying, the wind sharp against my ears as it whistled past my head.

Ending up in this strange limbo, surrounded by nothing but gray mist, doesn't imply a successful landing.

Although my heart still beats a slow, steady rhythm, one that matches the rise and fall of my chest, it doesn't feel the same. It's a habit, purely mechanical, no blood rushing through my veins or air filling my lungs. I hold my breath for practice. It's fun for the first few minutes, but then I kind of miss breathing, so I suck in a mouthful of nothing in case it does enough to kick-start the rest of me back to life.

It doesn't. If anything, I keep getting paler.

That can't be a good sign.

I clutch the ripped ends of my dress, balling the fabric between my fists, wanting to tear it off. It smells like sunscreen and vodka and regret. That trip to the beach was supposed to be one last hurrah, my final chance to let Bad Decision Willow make an appearance before I became Responsible Willow forever. The job application destined to change my life was already filled out.

And now it'll never be submitted, all thanks to one crumbling piece of rock.

It's not fair. There has to be a way out of this. I'm not in any pain; that must count for something. Maybe my injuries aren't life-threatening, and my body is being worked on by doctors right now. All I need to do is find a way back to it, and I'll wake like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, all shiny and new and ready to send that application at last.

Something scuffles up ahead.

My heart-my utterly useless heart-flips in my chest. "Hello?"

Nobody answers. The scuffling continues.

"Hello?" I risk a step forward, my feet slapping against what feels like damp stone. "Is someone there?"

Please be someone nice. A medical professional would be ideal.

There's a hiss of a match being struck, and a light shines in the distance, illuminating the domed walls of a dark, rocky tunnel. I move toward that beacon like a ship heading to a lighthouse, if the ship was both confused and slightly stressed about what it might find at the end of the sea.

The match lighter shuffles close enough for me to see its face.

A whimper escapes my throat.

Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. I stumble back, desperate to get away, I have to get away, but-I slip, algae sending my feet flying out from under me. My tailbone cracks against stone and-fuck. That hurt. And I felt it.

So the whole not-feeling-pain thing lasted all of five minutes. Well, isn't that wonderful? Isn't that swell? There are now zero upsides to being here, and there's a demon standing in front of me.

I don't know what else to call it. It might pass for human at a quick glance, but a closer look reveals its features are almost foxlike, with bright orange eyes and a nose that's a touch too long. Its nostrils emit little puffs of smoke, causing the candle in its hand to flicker wildly. Aside from a snakeskin loincloth for the sake of modesty, the rest of its leathery red skin-the same colo