He owns her soul … but she’s stealing his heart.

Satan Junior Lucifer, reluctant Crown Prince of Hell, has a lot on his shoulders. In the face of a soul famine, his father the King has tasked him with finding a way to lure more souls to Hell.

With the help of his Hell Hounds, he invents a devious new way of tricking humans into selling their soul for whatever frivolous thing their heart desires, under the assumption that they can earn it back in four payments.

But before he can present his ground-breaking idea to Daddy, he really should test it out...

He owns her soul … but she’s stealing his heart.

Satan Junior Lucifer, reluctant Crown Prince of Hell, has a lot on his shoulders. In the face of a soul famine, his father the King has tasked him with finding a way to lure more souls to Hell.

With the help of his Hell Hounds, he invents a devious new way of tricking humans into selling their soul for whatever frivolous thing their heart desires, under the assumption that they can earn it back in four payments.

But before he can present his ground-breaking idea to Daddy, he really should test it out on an unwitting human … and he’s got his eye on one in particular …

***

Jemma Bliss, volunteer art therapist and cosplay crocheter to the local ferret population, enjoys the simple things in life. A ride-or-die bestie, a bookshelf of monster romance novels, and indulging in a gluten free donut after a hard day’s work running her market stall.

But when a giant, smirking, annoyingly sexy man purchases every last donut on a particularly stressful Saturday—and won’t even share a single one with her—Jemma goes home alone to drown her sorrows.

One too many wines, some very odd text messages, and suddenly Jemma finds her soul is the property of the son of Satan … and she’s caught up in a battle to win it back from him.

Her plan? Well, the devil seems quite enraptured by her, so maybe she could take a leaf out of her monster books, and shag her way out of this little pickle she’s found herself in?

As long as pesky feelings don’t get in the way, that is …