🚘 The Devil Went Down to Georgia Auto Mechanics

Joyce Ferguson considered it a coincidence that a man in a baby-blue suit happened to walk up to her stalled Toyota Camry seconds after she muttered the words, “I would sell my soul to the devil if this car never broke down again.”“Do you mean that?” the stranger asked in a voice as silky as soymilk in a vegan latte on a hot Georgia day.Which it was. Only Joyce didn’t have anything to quench her thirst. She thought she’d be home from work thirty minutes ago. Sweat soaked through her work blouse, and she’d thrown her blazer in the car.She didn’t see where the man had come from. There weren’t any other cars pulled over onto the side of the road beside hers.“Be careful what you wish for.” His smile was charming, disarming.Joyce laughed and waved him off dismissively. She didn’t believe in souls, or the devil, or any of that nonsense.This was the third time Joyce’s car engine had died this month, each time a different problem—which meant she’d needed to fork over $200 or more each time.…