I’m overstimmed and undercaffeinated, wrapped in a scarf that doubles as a coping mechanism. One desperate wish over a pumpkin spice latte brands my cup with a sigil and summons four supernatural suitors, each a different flavor of sin.
Cinnamon: heat and bite, all bossy smirks and golden burn.
Nutmeg: soft incubus, curved horns and ‘good boy’ energy.
Clove: glitter-covered trickster with a googly eye hoard and mischief to spare.
Ginger: fallen angel, praise kink incarnate, wings like sanctuary.
They’re not here to drag me to hell. They want to worship me into it.
Between infernal makeouts in a haunted bathroom, lie-detecting kitchen appliances, and the most obscene use of a pumpkin known to man, I’ve got a choice:
Break the pact and return to regular life…
Or crown myself Pumpkin Spice Queen and let autumn last forever.This is a reverse harem romance, meaning she’s letting all four wreck her in increasingly creative ways. Sin is a team sport here. You’ve been warned. Or invited. Depends on your damage.
Cinnamon: heat and bite, all bossy smirks and golden burn.
Nutmeg: soft incubus, curved horns and ‘good boy’ energy.
Clove: glitter-covered trickster with a googly eye hoard and mischief to spare.
Ginger: fallen angel, praise kink incarnate, wings like sanctuary.
They’re not here to drag me to hell. They want to worship me into it.
Between infernal makeouts in a haunted bathroom, lie-detecting kitchen appliances, and the most obscene use of a pumpkin known to man, I’ve got a choice:
Break the pact and return to regular life…
Or crown myself Pumpkin Spice Queen and let autumn last forever.This is a reverse harem romance, meaning she’s letting all four wreck her in increasingly creative ways. Sin is a team sport here. You’ve been warned. Or invited. Depends on your damage.
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