Lucifer Morningstar is a law-abiding, upstanding gentleman of New York City.
Lucifer Morningstar is the Devil.
The owner of powerful magic, Lucifer could have the world at his feet, if not for his apathy and loneliness. But he's finally found a reason to survive, someone to stand by him through the rough and smooth of his life, to care for and have care for him. He's found a new wife.
Clarissa opens Lucifer's eyes to the darkest side of the real world. It's not a pretty sight, full of paedophiles, murderers, rapists and thieves, all of which are personified in her ex-boyfriend. Can Clarissa convince Lucifer to do more than stand back and watch the world fall apart?
The Devil will do anything to fix Clarissa's world. And he will kill anything, God, Demon or Angel that gets in his way.
I shook my head, kissing her on the cheek. "Relax. Cooking should be fun."
She laughed, her blush visibly darkening, and tried to relax. She didn't do very well.
I laughed, taking the knife from her hand and put it on the counter. She turned her head to frown at me, and I kissed her on the lips. I pulled back when I felt her relax again, laughing as one of my favorite songs echoed around the kitchen.
"What—? But, dinner—"
I laughed, spinning her around. "Forget dinner. You can't cook when you're tense. It ruins the flavor."
Clarissa looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. It probably seemed that way. "What?"
I laughed, spinning her around and dancing to the song. "Dance, Clarissa!"
I heard her bastard cat object from the bathroom, but I ignored him.
Clarissa turned red again. "I can't!" she cried, her body following my silent motions and dancing anyway.
"Nonsense!" I laughed, pulling her into my arms and doing a fake waltz with her, too fast for the music. "Have some fun!"
"No, really, Lucifer, I can't." She tried to pull away from me, but I didn't let her go, holding onto her hand.
"Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong," I sang along to the up-beat recording of the famous song. "Under the shade of a Coolibah tree..."
Clarissa laughed at my horrible singing, starting to relax, though she was still blushing. "That's terrible!"
"I bet you can't do better!" I retorted, spinning her around the small space between the living room and kitchen.
"I can too!" she answered, laughing. The chorus started up and she sang along with it. "Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda my darling, who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me..."