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Samael scratched his chin, wondering if that heading would sufficiently entice people to sign up for the Celyn Kendrick newsletter. He'd agreed to set it up so the author would have more time to ghost-write his memoirs.
If this were about his publicity, Sam preferred to think he was so sexy that people would just follow him like a member of the royal family—waiting with bated breath until he sold exclusive pictures to the tabloids or published a new exposé. But the last time he exposed himself, he was told to cover up or they'd arrest him. And as Celyn Kendrick preferred to be lauded for their words and not their sexy demon body, boring old newsletter it was.
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