A Demon Lady With Love
A Demon Lady
With Love
(A Demon’s Playground Novel)
By J. David Phillips
Copyright
Copyright 2017 by J. David Phillips
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used on any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for quotations in a book review.
Printed and distributed as an ebook in the United States of America
First published, 2017
Summon The Wraiths
1116 Greenbay Rd.
Southport, NC 28461
Or correspondences can be sent to the author at:
summonthewraiths@gmail.com
Credits And Acknowledgements
First, to my family. My mother who instilled in me a love of reading. My father who paid for all of the books. My son who always provided me with more laughs as a child than I ever deserved. My daughter who always has been and always will be the first inhabitant of the Playground. Connie McCrummen, Rodney Hassler, and Ron Layne. These three people define what is best about our education system. Karen, who will forever be my very own infernal minion of darkness. And to the faculty, staff, and student body of South Brunswick High School and Middle School. You are beautiful. Shine on. All of you listed above.
Table Of Contents
Foreword
Chapter One: I Scream Of Genie
Chapter Two: Accountant Dracula
Chapter Three: Down Into Darkness
Chapter Four: What Is Normal Anyway?
Chapter Five: The Times That Try Men’s Voles
Chapter Six: God For Harry, England, And St. George
Chapter Seven: A Hearse Is A Hearse, Of Curse, Of Curse
Chapter Eight: Clean Up On Aisle One
Chapter Nine: Why It Sucks To Be A Succubus
Chapter Ten: Strange Things Go Bump In The Night
Chapter Eleven: Hyding In Plain Sight
Chapter Twelve: Like Bait On A Hook
Chapter Thirteen: Sometimes You Should Just Stay Inside
Foreword
There’s a place just on the other side of nightmares called the Playground. You probably haven’t heard of it unless you’re well off, a powerful magic user, or you’ve been seriously screwed over. I know, because my name’s Jack Pittman, and I got sent here against my will.
This place exists outside of your universe, but it’s all around you.
Only, to get there you have to do some serious heavy moving with the machinery of reality. The Playground always exists one second behind you, or maybe one atom’s width away. Look around you. Have you ever wondered what happens with all that space once reality is done with it?
I’m here to tell you it’s used for something else.
I don’t think you’re ready to know what for, either. Not if you want to be able to go home and sleep well. The universe is filled with all kinds of marvels and wonders. Hamlet once told a friend of his, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” That’s Shakespeare, by the way. He had the right of it. If you haven’t read him yet, you need to turn your damn Facebook off and start reading.
Some of his plays, the ones where supernatural things step into our world and meddle in the affairs of men, are kind of an early warning radar. I think the guy has been here before. Evidently he made it back.
Most people don’t.
That’s because the universe is also full of bad dreams and walking terrors.
I’m sure you’ve heard of things like alien abductions, Bigfoot, the Jersey devil? They’re all from here. So are werewolves, banshees, wraiths, vampires, and all sorts of things that slither out of dark recesses and creep forth into the night to feed on the unsuspecting.
The playground is a place where demons, monsters, mages, and the power hungry left the world you and I were born into to carve a little niche of their own. They wanted to be left alone to make a safe haven for themselves so they could feed in peace. Once you take one step out of phase and enter this realm, everything changes. There are no frenzied mobs of torch waving villagers to chase boogey men away or come to your rescue. The powers that dwell here made an agreement a long time ago. Each one has its own principality. They guard these jealously.
The real mischief is that most parts of the Playground seem to have an order of sorts. It’s better if nothing riles up the herd too much. In fact, most of the people living here don’t know the whole truth. But if you wind up here and step out of the pen, then woe to you, stranger. For the most part, ancient wards and powerful seals at the edges of the Playground keep things from slipping out into your neighborhood.
And you better pray that they stay put.
Because if they don’t, you’re what will be on their menu.
Sit back and pay attention to what I have to say; it might just save your life. My name is Jack Pittman. This is my story. I hope you take notes.