Sympathy for the Devil

Well now. The Devil is here in all his glory! Blond, cold and a little too perceptive for his own good. Not convinced? I supply one blurb and one excerpt for your consideration....

Sympathy for the Devil on Shara Azod

Blurb. Not bothered.

Toni has met the perfect boy in...

West who unfortunately happens to have a Devil of a best friend called...

Pierce, dangerously cold and incredibly rude. He sees a world of lies in  Toni straight away. His snap decision to split her and West up brings him right into confrontation with...

Cari, Toni's best friend and guardian. In between the war of words, Cari begins to see beyond Pierce's smart mouth and terrible reputation. Horribly, she starts to feel for him.

As much as Pierce is amused and entertained by his manipulations, he wonders if his energy would be better spent pursing Cari, a girl the complete opposite to his type who makes him remember what morals are.

Not devil like at all.

The thing about the Devil is, he didn't start out evil...

Excerpt. You know. Whatever. 

Pierce put his phone away and before I dug into my steak, he swapped ours over. “This is the medium. That’s the rare.”

       “Good catch.” Whatever appetite I’d had before I turned up tonight had probably taken the long tube back to halls.

       “What about family?”

       “My family?”

       “Yes, Antonia, your family.”

       Don’t get me wrong. I love my name. I really do. I appreciate that when people shorten my name, in my head I’ve turned into a Cockney plumber who has three sugars in his tea, has four kids, and always brings home kippers for the missus. But Pierce full-naming me? Not good. It felt like an insult.

       “It’s just me and my dad. Only child. Dad’s still a publican. He runs about three pubs in the East End. He spoils me.”

       “And your last relationship?”

       Yeah. No. “What about it? You know it’d be easier on you to hire a private investigator.”

       He put down his knife and fork to look at me. Without a sneer or curled lip of disdain, he stared at me. I felt X-rayed. “Are you hiding something? What are you so afraid of me knowing?”

       “Nothing,” I lied. “It’s just the most extraordinary interview I’ve ever had. If you must know, my last relationship ended nine months ago. He was a dick. Anything else you want to know? Favourite food? Music? Single friends? No? Great. Fine.”

       He applauded. “Fantastic performance. Matinee show tomorrow?”

       “I’m a nice person,” I insisted, tears prickling uncomfortably in my eyes.

       Pierce shrugged. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

       “Why not accept it until I prove you wrong? Like normal friends do?”

       He picked up his cigarettes and lit one without hesitation. “You know why people talk about me? Because I see right through them. Every single time. They don’t like it. So it’s easier for them to make up shit about me. And therefore, I can tell you, without a shadow of a doubt, you are not good enough for my friend.”

       Shaking uncontrollably, I tucked a lock of hair behind my hair. How to make a girl feel like crap in ten seconds? “Can you predict the lottery numbers for next week as well?”

       He blew a plume of smoke over my head. “You’re insecure. You keep making jokes to deflect attention from yourself. That top you’re wearing, you keep tugging at it, because you were talked into buying it, and you certainly didn’t choose to wear it tonight. You cling to whoever can support you at the time. That guarantees you being unfaithful. In the interest of you not ruining my friend’s life… Maybe, I don’t know… Leave him alone?”

       I clutched a hand to my chest as Pierce got to his feet, the cigarette perched on the edge of his lip, counting out fifty-pound notes. I felt as if he’d stabbed me. Right in the chest with his poisonous words.

       “Enjoy the food. The company’s not for me.”

       West awoke with a snort. “I’m up!”

       Pierce slapped him on the shoulder. “And I’m off.”

       Without another word to me, he removed the cigarette and walked through the doors of the pub. His eyes boozy and red, West hung an arm around my stiff shoulders. “All right, my sweet? Was he nice to you?” No. He was not nice to me, Weston. “Ah, he paid. Marvellous. See? No problem, right?”

       Big problem, I thought, struggling to avoid West’s groping and compose myself at the same time. Big. Huge. Massive problem.