Author/Uploaded by Sarah Hawley
BERKLEY ROMANCE Published by Berkley An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC penguinrandomhouse.com Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Hawley Excerpt from A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch copyright © 2023 by Sarah Hawley Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages...
BERKLEY ROMANCE Published by Berkley An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC penguinrandomhouse.com Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Hawley Excerpt from A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch copyright © 2023 by Sarah Hawley Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader. BERKLEY is a registered trademark and Berkley Romance with B colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Hawley, Sarah, author. Title: A witch’s guide to fake dating a demon / Sarah Hawley. Description: First edition. | New York: Berkley Romance, 2023. Identifiers: LCCN 2022043481 (print) | LCCN 2022043482 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593547922 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9780593547939 (ebook) Subjects: LCGFT: Paranormal fiction. | Romance fiction. | Novels. Classification: LCC PS3608.A8937 W58 2023 (print) | LCC PS3608.A8937 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23/eng/20221006 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022043481 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022043482 First Edition: March 2023 Cover art and design by Jess Miller Book design by Daniel Brount, adapted for ebook by Molly Jeszke This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. pid_prh_6.0_142781532_c0_r0 To my parents: thank you for fostering my curiosity and creativity and for cheering me on no matter what odd things I decide to write. (Please only read the redacted version I’ve provided you.) ONE Oh, no.” Mariel spark stared at the startled chicken that had materialized on her kitchen counter. “That wasn’t what I meant to do.” At the kitchen table, Calladia Cunnington nearly choked on her tea. “Well, that’s surprising. At least they both have wings.” Mariel gave her friend a look. She’d recited a summoning spell for an air sprite, not poultry. “Literally the only thing they have in common.” “Points for creativity?” Despite the joke, Calladia’s wince was sympathetic. As a witch and Mariel’s longtime friend, she knew how upsetting it was for Mariel to mess up a spell yet again. “It’s a basic summoning spell, not a Jackson Pollock painting.” Mariel blew a stray curl out of her face, frowning at the surprise avian guest currently preening its ruffled feathers next to her toaster. Her spells often backfired, but this was a new level of fucked-up-ness. “Well, I think it’s cute,” their other friend Themmie—short for Themmaline—Tibayan said from where she sat cross-legged in midair. The pixie’s iridescent wings fluttered as she took pictures of the bird with her smartphone. “Sure, but what do I do with it?” The chicken was now scratching at the chalked pentagram beneath it. What would soothe an alarmed bird that had been teleported into a witch’s kitchen? “Can you send it back where it came from?” Calladia asked, tightening her blond ponytail. She looked disgustingly peppy for a Friday morning, her blue tank top damp with sweat from a recent gym visit. Mariel bit her lip, trying not to snap. Calladia was the best person in the world, even if she set unreasonable fitness standards, but she’d never struggled with magic the way Mariel did. “Maybe. If I had any idea where it came from.” She wasn’t sure how she’d summoned a chicken to begin with. Granted, her mind had wandered to her grocery list while chalking the spell, but it had been a brief distraction, hardly worth noting. And why a live chicken, rather than chicken cutlets or brussels sprouts or a gallon of milk? Themmie cooed at the chicken as she took more photos. “Cluck for the camera, cutie. Strike that pose!” As a social media influencer, the Filipino American pixie documented everything, and her look changed constantly. This week, her straight black hair had been bespelled green and pink, and a nose ring winked in the sunlight cascading through the kitchen window. Calladia rolled her eyes. “What is this, America’s Next Top Chicken?” America’s Next Top Witch was a popular national TV show among both magic and nonmagic humans. The America’s Next Top Model spinoff focused more on lingerie than spellcraft, but the models still cast illusions or shape-shifted during photo shoots. Mariel had enjoyed the show up until she’d realized as a teenager that she was way, way behind even those reality TV disasters in terms of magical competency. “On the bright side,” Themmie said, “you probably rescued it from the cruel world of cage farming.” Environmental activism was never far from Themmie’s mind, and her face lit up. “We can build it a coop.” “I’m not keeping it,” Mariel said. Even though it did look adorable as it goggled at her air fryer. “Try reversing the symbols,” Calladia suggested. “That should send it back.” Normally her friends didn’t sit in on her spellcraft practice sessions, but in this case, Mariel was glad they’d come. They didn’t judge her for mucking up magic the way her family did. Mariel took a deep breath, then marked the counter with chalk again. A pentagram, then the reversed summoning marks in each arm of the inverted star. Her handwriting wobbled with the attempt. Hecate, why was writing backward so hard? At least this was a fairly simple summoning and wouldn’t require any of the big witchy guns like salt, sage, or newt sperm. The more complex the spell, the more opportunities to fuck it up. For the billionth time, Mariel wished magic was as easy as baking or gardening. But while Mariel had perfected a killer cranberry tart and raised beautiful flowers, she couldn’t