That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon (Mead Mishaps, #1)

by Kimberly Lemming

Who needs him? Or any man! Love is for people with not enough wine in their hands!

Why the gods felt the need to bless such a deadly creature with such a beautiful face was beyond me. Instead of the yellow cat-like eyes of last night, the man in the window had dark coal eyes that sucked you into their endless abyss. His hair, black and straight, moved gently in the morning breeze like the leaves on a willow tree. It fell past his shoulders as the light of day danced across his upsettingly handsome face. If it weren’t for the large curved horns twisting up from his head, one would think he was just a normal man.

Ass-whooping alligators,

Might be my new favorite saying

Fallon balled up his fists in frustration, but no fire engulfed his arms this time. Which was fine. I guess. If you liked men who kept their shirts on.

“You… can talk,” she began slowly. “And… and not just basic words either. Like rational spoken words?” “I tend to save my mindless screaming for Tuesdays,” he replied coolly.

I’d say I didn’t stare intensely at the deep V of his hipbones, but Mama didn’t raise a liar.

“I can be your villain,”

Any hope of keeping a shred of dignity in this affair went out for milk and never returned.

“Last night, you demanded we bring you cheese and then stated that you were the cheese queen.” I blinked. “There’s no way I did that.” “Really?” he asked with a smirk. “Because I fully remember you tasking several orcs to bring you cheese. Then you sat in the captain’s chair, and the words ‘I am the cheese queen’ definitely came out of your mouth.”

He smelled like a bed of roses and home. I don’t know when his scent began to make me feel like the world fell away, but it did. It just felt right. He felt right.

I could die from this. They’ll have to write “fucked into oblivion” on my tombstone. But glory, glory, what a hell of a way to die.

Hahaha

“Oh, the troubles I go through for my wife.” A thrill went up my spine at his words. “Am I really? We don’t need to have a ceremony or register with the church?” “Darling, we burned down the church.” “Oh yeah.” No idea how I forgot that.

“Oh, so sorry, dear. Bowing is where I draw the line. Bad knees and all that.”

“You are my heart.”