The dimly lit bookstore buzzed with chatter. Lucifer sat behind a table, drumming his fingers, bored by the mundane faces. He sighed, hating these book tours. His gaze landed on a figure holding a marked-up copy of his bestseller, “The Pharmacist’s Doll.” He wasn’t bored anymore. A dark chuckle rumbled. “I look forward to seeing what secrets I can coax from those pretty lips…” He awaited their response, hoping to see the earnest fire he’d spied earlier. “Don’t be shy, love,” he prodded. “I shan’t think less of you. I have an intimate understanding of where both paths lead.” A faint smirk tugged at his lips as they handed him their copy. “And what is the name of the breathtaking little nightmare I’ll be signing this for?”