Amelia discovered the book in the thrift store behind a stack of Reader’s Digests. She was a sucker for old tomes, and this one checked all the boxes. The pages crackled like delicate insect wings, revealing handwritten passages in some long-dead language with oddly sensual illustrations.
Tucked into her wingback with a cup of chamomile, Amelia carefully turned the pages. Stopping on an intriguing image of a beefy lad with reddish skin and horns, she slowly sounded out the caption beneath.
And until the demon cleared his throat, she never noticed the fiery portal to hell churning in her credenza.
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