Every witch needs a familiar. Sometimes maybe two…
Morgana is a hedge witch with a problem. Her sisters are
conspiring against her and she has a ghost with a fork phobia living in her
shoe closet. When the chance comes to crash a party she just knows she should
have been invited to comes along, she enlists the aid of her trusty cat Nona to
help her cast the spell for the perfect dress. But crashing this party isn't
the only thing that’s going to rain on this witch’s parade.
Marcus of Pendleton is a cat shifter in search of his
brother. Then a lead at the Warty Frog takes him on an adventure filled with
magic and well…zombies. Can the prince find the fair witch and the answer he
seeks? And he might just be the familiar she's looking for...
Pages: 51
Genre-paranormal romance, fantasy romance, low heat rating,
shifters, m/f
“He’s been missing for months. How can you not care?” Marcus
Pendleton ground out, staring at his father in disbelief. The king sat on his
throne gnawing on a turkey leg, grease sliding down his pudgy face.
“Because my boy, Rhys was the younger son. He may have been
a prince, but you’re the one who will inherit the throne.”
“So why did you bother searching the kingdom for a princess
and having a ball?”
The king narrowed his eyes at his son. “That happened to be
for you. Scheduling a dragon-hunting trip for that weekend was in atrocious
form. Your mother was highly disappointed.”
“I’ll bet.” Marcus kicked his foot against the dais. He
fought down the urge to shift and show his father his extreme displeasure. No
doubt the old man would have an apoplectic fit if he found out his son had been
bitten and turned into the one animal he despised the most. Not even a beast
like a wolf, but merely a cat. His father loathed the animals and forbade
having them on the castle grounds.
“You need to focus on finding yourself a princess, not
running about the kingdoms slaying beasts and bothering with that fool brother
of yours. The last time anyone saw him, he was following some skirt around and
blathering on about a missing shoe.” His father shuddered, holding his hand up
in disgust. “There were twelve of them. All dressed alike too. The men were
talking about it. Prattling, dancing, blonde things with wings.” His wandering
eye drifted toward a serving wench with a rather tight bodice.
Marcus couldn’t believe his ears. Twelve of them? That
didn’t sound right. Neither did his father’s decision not look for Rhys. It was
unthinkable. Right now, if he could have, he would dump his inheritance in his
father’s lap and be done with him. The man’s priorities were limited to two
things. Food and sleep.
No. Make it three. His father had the wandering eye of a
lecherous pig farmer. He didn’t know how his mother stood it. Given the chance,
he was surprised she hadn’t chucked him over the palace walls years ago and
been done with it.
“Wait, Father. Did you say he was sniffing around a girl
with a missing shoe?”
“Yes,” his father chuffed. “What of it?”
“What of it, indeed…” Marcus stalked out of the throne room,
an idea forming in his head. Someone else must have seen a shoeless maiden, and
he was damn well going to find out what was going on. And twelve girls all
dressed the same? How very odd indeed. He wasn’t known as the best tracker in
the two kingdoms for naught. If he couldn’t find out something about them, he
may as well go sit up in the tower and sew with his mother’s handmaidens.
“Marcus. Come back here. Marcus!”
He shut the door on his father’s ranting, encountering his
servant boy on the other side of the door.
“Geoffrey, Saddle my horse. Tonight we ride.”
About the author:
Dana Wright has always had a fascination with things that go
bump in the night. She is often found playing at local bookstores, trying not
to maim herself with crochet hooks or knitting needles, watching monster movies
with her husband and furry kids or blogging about books. More commonly, she is
chained to her computers, writing like a woman possessed. She is currently
working on several children's stories, young adult fiction, romantic suspense,
short stories and is trying her hand at poetry. She is a contributing author to
Ghost Sniffer’s CYOA, Siren’s Call E-zine in their “Women in Horror” issue in
February 2013 and "Revenge" in October 2013, a contributing author to
Potatoes!, Fossil Lake, Of Dragons and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds, Undead
in Pictures, Potnia, Shadows and Light, Dark Corners (upcoming), Wonderstruck,
Shifters: A Charity Anthology, Dead Harvest, Monster Diaries, Holiday Horrors
and the Roms, Bombs and Zoms Anthology from Evil Girlfriend Media. She is the
author of Asylum, The Invitation and Texas Twister. Dana has also reviewed music for
Muzikreviews.com specializing in New Age and alternative music and has been a
contributing writer to Eternal Haunted Summer, Massacre Magazine, Metaphor
Magazine, The Were Traveler October 2013 edition: The Little Magazine of
Magnificent Monsters, the December 2013 issue The Day the Zombies Ruled the
Earth. She currently reviews music at New Age Music Reviews and Write a Music
Review.
Follow Dana’s reviews:
Twitter: @danawrite
Author site and newsletter:
http://danawrightauthor.wix.com/danawright
Facebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/danawrightauthor
The Romance Reviews:
http://www.theromancereviews.com/DanaWright
Texas Twister (Blue Moon Chronicles) by Dana Wright -
Romance>Fantasy
Sometimes love finds you in the darkest places.
Magdalay Rousseau is having a bad day. She can't find the
charging cable to her laptop, and when she goes into her husband's office to
look for it, she discovers he's been cheating on her. She decides to hire a
private investigator to dig into her husband's secrets, but what the detective
discovers about her turns her world upside-down.
Carter Zusak is a private detective--and a cat shifter. When
a new client shows up, he's almost certain she's a flake. What kind of woman
writes romance novels and owns a shop selling supplies for witches? He's sure
she's got a bat or two loose in her belfry--until he delves deeper into her
case. No one in her life is what they seem, and Magdalay has just put herself
in danger more insidious than he ever imagined. Something about this witch sets
his heart on fire. But he'll have to figure out a way to save her before they
both get burned...
Magdalay Rousseau stared at her lifeless laptop and groaned.
It wouldn’t turn on. Again. So much for a lasting battery. Already irritated
from lack of sleep, she pressed the on button one more time and tried to recall
where she’d left the charger. It should be in the little plastic bag she
usually kept next to her laptop, but it wasn’t.
“Great. I can’t believe this. I ought to just spell you and
be done with it.”
She growled and pushed herself up from the small space at
the kitchen table. Perhaps it was in her work bag in the foyer. She hated
resorting to magic when real world solutions worked just fine. It had been a
point of contention with her mother for years. Besides, she wasn’t very good at
it. Wish for rain and get a flood in her kitchen. That was her life right now.
Magdalay peered into the bag.
Nothing.
“Oh. This is just getting better and better.”
Magdalay spun on her heel and considered her next move. She
had a deadline for her publisher, and today would be her only day off with no
distractions until next week. Not that she could focus anyway. Not with the
antics Russ was pulling lately. Her mind kept circling him like a dog with a
bone.
He’d been out with the boys from the club, but something in
the back of her mind kept digging at her. Their poker games didn’t last that
long. Neither did their dinners at the club, which she now refused to attend.
Not after the last time with his uppity friends and their equally unpleasant
wives. She didn’t fit in with the country club scene, and that was more than
all right with her.
Russ hadn’t come home—again—by the time her head hit the
pillow last night at midnight. It was becoming par for the course. Magdalay
couldn’t concentrate on anything and that included leaving her damn charging
cable someplace. She could swear it was next to her workstation last night when
she went to bed, but she could have been dreaming. She couldn’t remember, and
that just pissed her off, making her already foul mood even more noxious.
“Did you wash my pants?” Russ called out from the bedroom,
his voice lacking any of the warmth she used to receive from him.
“Yes,” she ground out, barely containing her urge to demand
where the hell he’d been all damned night. It didn’t do any good. He never
answered her anyway. “They’re folded on the dryer.”
Her husband, Russ, clad in a blue pullover shirt and
tighty-whities bolted from their bedroom down the short hall toward the laundry
room. The door opened and shut, and she caught a streak of blue out of the
corner of her eye but no acknowledgement or thank you.
Next time she ought to let his clothes just pile up and see
what happened. Well…she took that back. A week ago, she’d been too busy to keep
up with the laundry and he’d shaken her awake after a long day at the shop and
writing, demanding to know when she would get around to it. The icy stare was enough
to motivate her into preemptive action. She’d never been afraid of her husband
before that night, but things had changed between them at an alarming rate.
She poured the water into the coffeepot and flipped on the
switch, sighing as the rich aroma of the Columbian blend pervaded the kitchen.
It was still early, and she’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning and
imagining his car wrapped around a pole or worse. The man hadn’t come home
until after two. At least that was the last time she recalled on the blinking
clock on the nightstand. Russ hadn’t even had the decency to let her know where
he was or if he was OK. Magdalay didn’t remember him sneaking in. She’d tried
to stay awake so she could talk to him or at least give him a piece of her
mind, but she must have drifted off in a wave of jittery exhaustion.
Last night had just been the latest in a long line of
whatever was happening in their marriage and fixing it was becoming a pipe
dream. He’d grown more and more distant over the past three months and she
didn’t know what had gone wrong. Well…except for her working. He hated the
hours she spent away from home, but with her mother’s passing, Broomstix had
become hers. The irony wasn’t lost on her. A witch who didn’t want to be, or
worse yet, was terrible at it.
She thought back to her mother’s last days and the love she
had for her trusty cat, Jules. They’d been inseparable.
“You need a familiar, love. Sometimes having someone at your
back and by your side is the most powerful magic in the world.”
Magdalay’s lips twisted and she sighed. It wasn’t like she
hadn’t tried. Every cat she’d gotten went missing in a matter of days. When
she’d gone to Russ about the missing animals, he’d had nothing to say.
Frustrating wasn’t even half the word for it. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for
animals. Then she thought all she needed was her soul mate. That would have to
be enough. She’d always thought Russ was that person, but more and more, she
sensed a tremendous gulf between them, and it left her hollow inside.
Last month she’d been at the stitching circle and each of
the ladies was practicing poppet magic. The little cloth dolls danced and
frolicked in anticipation of whatever task they were intended for. Hers lay
there, looking still and unresponsive. It was to be a creative muse for her
magic. She figured if she could cast a spell and have a poppet work on some of
her overdue plot lines and synopses, she’d be ahead of the game. No such luck.
The stitching circle, full of her mother’s old friends,
thought it was hilarious. Now on top of her writing schedule, it was her
responsibility to keep Broomstix going. People depended on her, and she was
trying to learn as much as she could. Gaining the knowledge she needed wasn't
going as smooth as she’d like.
Her gaze raked the cluttered counter where her husband paid
bills and recoiled. No way was she touching that. “Not a chance.” Then she
remembered Russ had the same model laptop she did. She could borrow his charger
and pick hers up tomorrow when she went back into work. Problem solved.
“I’m out. See you tonight,” came the clipped response from
the front hallway followed by the slamming of the decorative lead glass door.
He hadn’t even come into the kitchen. Not even for coffee.
“Wow.” Now she knew he was avoiding her and likely hiding
something. Magdalay shook her head, the bitterness of her new reality sliding
down her stomach like a Ping Pong ball. His behavior stung, and she didn’t know
what to make of it. She moved down the hall, her linen nightgown floating
around her legs. In the Texas heat, it helped to have something comfortable and
the Eileen West nightgowns were her guilty pleasure. Goddess knew she needed
something.
She paused in the doorway to his office and sighed. Goddess,
she hated invading his space. Maybe the charger was right out in the open and
she could snap it up and be out before she disturbed anything of importance.
Then she saw it. Propped on a pile of paperwork next to his computer was her
small, holiday design-covered Ziploc bag with her cord dangling off the desk
over the top of it.
“What the heck?” Her lips slid into a frown and she
unclenched her hands. He took it. Probably to do the same thing she’d been
about to do, but at least she would have replaced his where she found it as
soon as she was done. She reached down to pick up the bag and wind up the
charging cord, and her hand brushed the mouse on his desk, the darkened screen
erupting to life. His e-mail was up. She wouldn’t have stopped save for the
name on the screen.
WTF?
Slowly, Magdalay lowered herself into the chair and began to
read. She hadn’t meant to intrude on his privacy. They’d always respected each
other enough to be honest. At least she’d always thought so. But with every
line she read, the trust she believed her marriage was based on was revealed to
be nothing more than a lie.
She hated wives who resorted to sneaking into their
husband’s phone records and all of those things to find out what they’d been up
to. Now, here she was, and she didn’t have a clue what to do about it. What was
done was done and couldn’t be taken back. One e-mail turned into two. Two
turned into a dozen, and at that point she had to stop, the contents of her
stomach churning like wildfire in her gut.
Fuck me. Fuck me like you did in your office.
I want it all.
You motherfucker.
Tears stung her eyes. There was no other explanation was
there? It was all laid out in black and white. The only thing missing was a
frigging video of them fornicating. Her stomach lurched.
The lump in her throat threatened to overtake her, and she
had to pause and take a deep breath. Her mother’s absence was a raw and gaping
wound. Eleanor would have known what to do, but Magdalay was frozen with
indecision. Her thoughts turned to the ladies in her stitching circle. They met
once a month but it wasn’t scheduled until next week. Goddess, but she sure
could use some comfort now. Or at least, a sounding board for her fury. Her
fingertips itched to zot the fucker but no…not yet. Not that she was fully
capable, but her circle was. She’d seen it time and again.
But the emails…she read the last line again.
I want to run my fingers down your long, long legs and part
your… She had to stop. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her once again.
“You cheating bastard,” she whispered. She had to be sure.
It was possible it was only emails. In her heart, she knew that was a lie.
Magdalay stood, her knees shaking and made her way out of Russ’s office to her
work space in the kitchen. She hooked up the laptop to the charger and shoved
the plug into the wall.
Magdalay considered her options. She could wait and confront
him when he got home. Whenever that would be.
No.
Or she could hex him where he stood and watch as his dick
shriveled up and fell off. A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her lips at
the idea. If only. With her luck, she’d turn him into an overlarge piece of
beef jerky and have to explain that one to the police.
Not a good idea. Her magic was unpredictable at best. She’d
hid it from him, not wanting to go there. It wasn’t her fault she was born a witch.
It was her choice whether or not to use it. If something needing a spell came
up, she waited until her hubby was off doing engineer things or sleeping in
front of the television. Proof. She needed more proof. The laptop whirled to
life and she pulled up her search engine.
What about a private detective? She had a little mad money
put aside for the dress she wanted for the romance writer’s convention in a few
months. Magdalay had no idea what the detective would cost, but she had to
know. With unblinking eyes she typed, private investigator Spinnaker, Texas
then she closed her eyes, rolled the mouse, and clicked on the Blue Moon
Detective Agency.
Ten interesting or somewhat strange things to know about me:
1. I’m a bookstore manager in my day job.
2. I have a passel of furry kids who rule my world.
3. Paranormal romance is one of my favorite things to
write-ever.
4. Chocolate is a food group.
5. I write erotic romance under a pen name. (Erzabet Bishop)
6. My favorite holidays are Halloween and Christmas.
7. I hate okra but love asparagus.
8. Some of my favorite music is Elle King, Adele, Florence
and the Machine and Peter Murphy.
9. I formerly wrote music reviews in between my writing projects for
New Age Reviews.com.
10. Three things on my desk-a cup of tea (no sugar), water
and a foam board with sticky notes for plot lining.
About the author:
Dana Wright has always had a fascination with things that go
bump in the night. She is often found playing at local bookstores, trying not
to maim herself with crochet hooks or knitting needles, watching monster movies
with her husband and furry kids or blogging about books. More commonly, she is
chained to her computers, writing like a woman possessed. She is currently
working on several children's stories, young adult fiction, romantic suspense,
short stories and is trying her hand at poetry. She is a contributing author to
Ghost Sniffer’s CYOA, Siren’s Call E-zine in their “Women in Horror” issue in
February 2013 and "Revenge" in October 2013, a contributing author to
Potatoes!, Fossil Lake, Of Dragons and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds, Undead
in Pictures, Potnia, Shadows and Light, Dark Corners (upcoming), Wonderstruck,
Shifters: A Charity Anthology, Dead Harvest, Monster Diaries, Holiday Horrors
and the Roms, Bombs and Zoms Anthology from Evil Girlfriend Media. She is the
author of Asylum, The Invitation and Texas Twister. Dana has also reviewed music for
Muzikreviews.com, New Age Music Reviews and Write a Music Review specializing in New Age and alternative music and has been a
contributing writer to Eternal Haunted Summer, Massacre Magazine, Metaphor
Magazine, The Were Traveler October 2013 edition: The Little Magazine of
Magnificent Monsters, the December 2013 issue The Day the Zombies Ruled the
Earth.
A magic mirror and a houseful of ghosts await Kristen when fate leads her to Wanderly House. Secrets and spirits consume her days, but one look in the magic mirror and her heart falls fast. A mask, a cloak, and a key leading her to an enchanted evening in the faery garden might be Kristen's end as all that glitters may well have sharp teeth.
Magic mirror on the wall…
Connor is trapped in Faery. With only a view through a bewitched mirror to the real world, his attention is nabbed by a curious cat shifter with a ghostly following. Can he find a way to break the spell that binds him so he can reach the girl that haunts his dreams?
When the forces of Faery and Wanderly House collide, will Kristen and Connor's love be enough to save them?
Sparks fly when a Spanish water woman, and an African two-horned horse shifter meet at a masquerade. Kimoni has gone to ask Isidora to use her skills to aid him with his ailing grandfather. When strangers claiming to be Isidora’s relatives try to force her to share her powers, the pair is plunged into danger. Isidora and Kimoni look for a way to fight the ruthless intruders, while also saving his grandfather.
Using their combined powers, they meet the challenge, all the while conscious of the growing attraction between them. It has been a long time since Isidora has met a man who calls to her as Kimoni does. The strong, handsome horse shifter sings to her senses, and she sees a matching spark in his eyes. Can love between them blossom? Can a water woman and a horse shifter find happiness together?
The kingdom of Baelin is under attack. A terrifying dragon rains fire down on the capital city, burning all in his path. The people’s one hope lies with the Princess Draxa, who – in accordance with an ancient rite – must willingly sacrifice her future to sate the beast’s wrath.
For her kingdom, Draxa will do it. She will leave Andre, the fierce soldier she loves with all of her heart, don her red cloak, and make the treacherous trip into the heart of the mountain, to face the monstrous Lord Siouxlian in his lair.
Brooke Adair's autism has turned the world into a constant puzzle, especially when it comes to men. When she meets fellow swan shifter Blake Landen in a dream, though, Brooke feels a potential connection to someone who could understand her. If she lets him.
But trusting in Blake takes a whole lot more courage than Brooke has. After all, if she doesn’t take this leap, Brooke might miss out on meeting the one man she could actually learn to understand.
Alyona Wyrden dwells contentedly in her elven realm, but when her brother disappears, she travels to Earth to bring him home.
Camden Kerr hunts down magical artifacts, keeping them out of the wrong hands. The amulet that draws Alyona to her brother is just the sort of object Cam’s after. The way his flesh responds to the lithe, blonde necklace wearer is a different matter altogether. When their paths keep crossing, Camden decides they can work together-until he discovers her elven heritage.
Can their attraction defeat prejudice? Which will rule—duty or desire?
Her eyelids fluttered. The familiarity of these smells relaxed tension from her shoulders. Not that she had time to stand around. If her brother wasn’t here, she would be no further along in her mission to bring him home.
A hush blanketed the cavernous room. She strode toward another doorway and into a deserted hallway with a bank of three closed doors. Her talisman urged her upward. Several signs warned: No Admittance To Unauthorized Personnel. How would Holt have made it to the upper level?
Teeth gritted, she stepped toward the nearest doorway. Air swirled around her, and a dinging bell echoed. The center doors slid open. Inside a woman dressed in matching jacket and skirt stepped forward. A hand closed over Alyona’s shoulder.
“He’s not here.” Warm breath tickled along her neck. Tingles flowed over her skin like a rushing river.
Alyona twisted, dislodging the man’s paw. It was a familiar square face. Amber outlined his pupil, intensifying the brown of his eyes. His collared shirt, the color of a twilight sky, clung to the sculpted muscles of his chest. She tilted her chin up to stare him in the eye.
Translating wind-whispered concertos into fiction, Sharon Hughson writes romance and young adult fantasy, living out her lifetime dream and calling it “a job.” After being saved by The Chronicles of Narnia as a teenager, S.L. decided escaping reality alone isn’t nearly as delightful as sharing those make-believe worlds with friends. To that end, she invites you to enter her story realm and fall in love all over again.
Even after twenty-some years married to her high school sweetheart, she enjoys the hearts-a-flutter rush from a well-told romantic tale. S.L. resides in Oregon with her husband, sons and three cats.
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code. No purchase necessary, but you must be 18 or older to enter. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter, and announced on the widget. Winner well be notified by emailed and have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. The number of entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Roane Publishing's marketing department.
Hello haunted hoppers! This Saturday brings us to a bit of fun-with zombies and vampires. Sexy ones. No rotting corpses, shambling undead or sparkly vampires here. Nope. This weekend is all about Lipstick and The Science of Lust, two of my novellas from Evernight.
This novella was inspired by a distinct hatred of weight loss programs, an annoyance at some things being counted for exercise while other...um...more fun things were not. And a love of vampires. How in the world does that fit? Down with carrots-bring on the vampires, because they have got to have the greatest stamina ever...oh yeah...
Here is an excerpt from when Grace Benedict meets her new partner in the lab, the sexy vampire, Dr. Charles Alvarado.
Oh my God. He looks like he just fell out of one of my erotica
novels.
“Excuse me.” She tried to pull her hand away, but the sexy
nerd had her and he wasn’t letting go. He was cute, but no job was
worth this. Dumonde Industries could bite her where the sun didn’t
shine.
“I am Dr. Charles Alvarado.”
“Awesome. I’m the tooth fairy. Now if you would let me go, I
think I need to leave.” She gave him a stare and tried to push past
him.
“Grace. Don’t go. Please.”
“Why? So you can arguably tell me how you can fuck me into
thinness or something equally stupid?” Her lip curled into a snarl.
“No way buddy. I’ve seen what Martin did to that woman down the
hall just now. I am nobody’s jerky toy, got it?” She poked him in the
chest with her finger.
He held up his hands and laughed. He laughed. The bastard.
Lipstick is a fun little tale with hot gallery pics and an artist that will melt the panties right off you...that is, if you're wearing any...
Oh my.
The next photo was the same model, collared and crouching
on the floor, wearing nothing but red lipstick. Her long black hair
hung down, shielding her breasts from view, but leaving the trimmed
patch of hair on her mound visible. She clung to the leather-clad leg
of the woman next to her, the woman's fingers tangled in her raven
tresses. It was beautiful.
“I love that shade of lipstick on you.”
“Pardon?”
“That lipstick. It is a good choice with your coloring.” Buttery
velvet, it was a voice designed to seduce and flatter.
“Thanks.”
His face was the only one in the general vicinity not hidden
behind a mask. Smooth olive skin stretched over high cheekbones,
lending an air of authority that demanded instant obedience. His
piercing green eyes missed nothing and I found my own gaze locked
on his full and kissable lips.
The
perfect shade of lipstick can lead to the perfect opportunity for sin…
When living-challenged author Claire Presswood gets
invited to go on a night out on the town with her two best friends, she isn't
prepared for the evening that awaits her. Hungry and overworked, she arrives at
a masked party at an art museum in time to meet debonair artist Maxwell
Douglas. One look from his luminous eyes and Claire knows this will be a night
to remember.
For 10/31 Lipstick will be on sale on Amazon for .99! Grab a copy while the price reduction lasts!
I hope you enjoyed this week's foray. Sign up for my newsletters and enter my November drawing for one of my many upcoming new releases.
Or if you like a little sweeter bit of romance, sign up for my alter ego's monthly bit of fun! If you want to be on my ARC review team, sign up on the comment form.
Have a sexy Saturday and don't forget monsters need love too...
Tell me what kind of monster is your favorite for a chance to win a copy of one of my books. Sign up for the newsletters and leave a comment for an additional chance!
Texas Twister (Blue Moon Chronicles) by Dana Wright -
Romance>Fantasy
Sometimes love finds you in the darkest places.
Magdalay Rousseau is having a bad day. She can't find the
charging cable to her laptop, and when she goes into her husband's office to
look for it, she discovers he's been cheating on her. She decides to hire a
private investigator to dig into her husband's secrets, but what the detective
discovers about her turns her world upside-down.
Carter Zusak is a private detective--and a cat shifter. When
a new client shows up, he's almost certain she's a flake. What kind of woman
writes romance novels and owns a shop selling supplies for witches? He's sure
she's got a bat or two loose in her belfry--until he delves deeper into her
case. No one in her life is what they seem, and Magdalay has just put herself
in danger more insidious than he ever imagined. Something about this witch sets
his heart on fire. But he'll have to figure out a way to save her before they
both get burned...
Magdalay Rousseau stared at her lifeless laptop and groaned.
It wouldn’t turn on. Again. So much for a lasting battery. Already irritated
from lack of sleep, she pressed the on button one more time and tried to recall
where she’d left the charger. It should be in the little plastic bag she
usually kept next to her laptop, but it wasn’t.
“Great. I can’t believe this. I ought to just spell you and
be done with it.”
She growled and pushed herself up from the small space at
the kitchen table. Perhaps it was in her work bag in the foyer. She hated
resorting to magic when real world solutions worked just fine. It had been a
point of contention with her mother for years. Besides, she wasn’t very good at
it. Wish for rain and get a flood in her kitchen. That was her life right now.
Magdalay peered into the bag.
Nothing.
“Oh. This is just getting better and better.”
Magdalay spun on her heel and considered her next move. She
had a deadline for her publisher, and today would be her only day off with no
distractions until next week. Not that she could focus anyway. Not with the
antics Russ was pulling lately. Her mind kept circling him like a dog with a
bone.
He’d been out with the boys from the club, but something in
the back of her mind kept digging at her. Their poker games didn’t last that
long. Neither did their dinners at the club, which she now refused to attend.
Not after the last time with his uppity friends and their equally unpleasant
wives. She didn’t fit in with the country club scene, and that was more than
all right with her.
Russ hadn’t come home—again—by the time her head hit the
pillow last night at midnight. It was becoming par for the course. Magdalay
couldn’t concentrate on anything and that included leaving her damn charging
cable someplace. She could swear it was next to her workstation last night when
she went to bed, but she could have been dreaming. She couldn’t remember, and
that just pissed her off, making her already foul mood even more noxious.
“Did you wash my pants?” Russ called out from the bedroom,
his voice lacking any of the warmth she used to receive from him.
“Yes,” she ground out, barely containing her urge to demand
where the hell he’d been all damned night. It didn’t do any good. He never
answered her anyway. “They’re folded on the dryer.”
Her husband, Russ, clad in a blue pullover shirt and
tighty-whities bolted from their bedroom down the short hall toward the laundry
room. The door opened and shut, and she caught a streak of blue out of the
corner of her eye but no acknowledgement or thank you.
Next time she ought to let his clothes just pile up and see
what happened. Well…she took that back. A week ago, she’d been too busy to keep
up with the laundry and he’d shaken her awake after a long day at the shop and
writing, demanding to know when she would get around to it. The icy stare was
enough to motivate her into preemptive action. She’d never been afraid of her
husband before that night, but things had changed between them at an alarming
rate.
She poured the water into the coffeepot and flipped on the
switch, sighing as the rich aroma of the Columbian blend pervaded the kitchen.
It was still early, and she’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning and
imagining his car wrapped around a pole or worse. The man hadn’t come home
until after two. At least that was the last time she recalled on the blinking
clock on the nightstand. Russ hadn’t even had the decency to let her know where
he was or if he was OK. Magdalay didn’t remember him sneaking in. She’d tried
to stay awake so she could talk to him or at least give him a piece of her
mind, but she must have drifted off in a wave of jittery exhaustion.
Last night had just been the latest in a long line of
whatever was happening in their marriage and fixing it was becoming a pipe
dream. He’d grown more and more distant over the past three months and she
didn’t know what had gone wrong. Well…except for her working. He hated the
hours she spent away from home, but with her mother’s passing, Broomstix had
become hers. The irony wasn’t lost on her. A witch who didn’t want to be, or
worse yet, was terrible at it.
She thought back to her mother’s last days and the love she
had for her trusty cat, Jules. They’d been inseparable.
“You need a familiar, love. Sometimes having someone at your
back and by your side is the most powerful magic in the world.”
Magdalay’s lips twisted and she sighed. It wasn’t like she
hadn’t tried. Every cat she’d gotten went missing in a matter of days. When
she’d gone to Russ about the missing animals, he’d had nothing to say.
Frustrating wasn’t even half the word for it. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for
animals. Then she thought all she needed was her soul mate. That would have to
be enough. She’d always thought Russ was that person, but more and more, she
sensed a tremendous gulf between them, and it left her hollow inside.
Last month she’d been at the stitching circle and each of
the ladies was practicing poppet magic. The little cloth dolls danced and
frolicked in anticipation of whatever task they were intended for. Hers lay
there, looking still and unresponsive. It was to be a creative muse for her
magic. She figured if she could cast a spell and have a poppet work on some of
her overdue plot lines and synopses, she’d be ahead of the game. No such luck.
The stitching circle, full of her mother’s old friends,
thought it was hilarious. Now on top of her writing schedule, it was her
responsibility to keep Broomstix going. People depended on her, and she was
trying to learn as much as she could. Gaining the knowledge she needed wasn't
going as smooth as she’d like.
Her gaze raked the cluttered counter where her husband paid
bills and recoiled. No way was she touching that. “Not a chance.” Then she
remembered Russ had the same model laptop she did. She could borrow his charger
and pick hers up tomorrow when she went back into work. Problem solved.
“I’m out. See you tonight,” came the clipped response from
the front hallway followed by the slamming of the decorative lead glass door.
He hadn’t even come into the kitchen. Not even for coffee.
“Wow.” Now she knew he was avoiding her and likely hiding
something. Magdalay shook her head, the bitterness of her new reality sliding
down her stomach like a Ping Pong ball. His behavior stung, and she didn’t know
what to make of it. She moved down the hall, her linen nightgown floating
around her legs. In the Texas heat, it helped to have something comfortable and
the Eileen West nightgowns were her guilty pleasure. Goddess knew she needed something.
She paused in the doorway to his office and sighed. Goddess,
she hated invading his space. Maybe the charger was right out in the open and
she could snap it up and be out before she disturbed anything of importance.
Then she saw it. Propped on a pile of paperwork next to his computer was her
small, holiday design-covered Ziploc bag with her cord dangling off the desk
over the top of it.
“What the heck?” Her lips slid into a frown and she
unclenched her hands. He took it. Probably to do the same thing she’d been
about to do, but at least she would have replaced his where she found it as
soon as she was done. She reached down to pick up the bag and wind up the
charging cord, and her hand brushed the mouse on his desk, the darkened screen
erupting to life. His e-mail was up. She wouldn’t have stopped save for the
name on the screen.
WTF?
Slowly, Magdalay lowered herself into the chair and began to
read. She hadn’t meant to intrude on his privacy. They’d always respected each
other enough to be honest. At least she’d always thought so. But with every
line she read, the trust she believed her marriage was based on was revealed to
be nothing more than a lie.
She hated wives who resorted to sneaking into their
husband’s phone records and all of those things to find out what they’d been up
to. Now, here she was, and she didn’t have a clue what to do about it. What was
done was done and couldn’t be taken back. One e-mail turned into two. Two
turned into a dozen, and at that point she had to stop, the contents of her
stomach churning like wildfire in her gut.
Fuck me. Fuck me like you did in your office.
I want it all.
You motherfucker.
Tears stung her eyes. There was no other explanation was
there? It was all laid out in black and white. The only thing missing was a
frigging video of them fornicating. Her stomach lurched.
The lump in her throat threatened to overtake her, and she
had to pause and take a deep breath. Her mother’s absence was a raw and gaping
wound. Eleanor would have known what to do, but Magdalay was frozen with
indecision. Her thoughts turned to the ladies in her stitching circle. They met
once a month but it wasn’t scheduled until next week. Goddess, but she sure
could use some comfort now. Or at least, a sounding board for her fury. Her
fingertips itched to zot the fucker but no…not yet. Not that she was fully
capable, but her circle was. She’d seen it time and again.
But the emails…she read the last line again.
I want to run my fingers down your long, long legs and part
your… She had to stop. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her once again.
“You cheating bastard,” she whispered. She had to be sure.
It was possible it was only emails. In her heart, she knew that was a lie.
Magdalay stood, her knees shaking and made her way out of Russ’s office to her
work space in the kitchen. She hooked up the laptop to the charger and shoved
the plug into the wall.
Magdalay considered her options. She could wait and confront
him when he got home. Whenever that would be.
No.
Or she could hex him where he stood and watch as his dick
shriveled up and fell off. A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her lips at
the idea. If only. With her luck, she’d turn him into an overlarge piece of
beef jerky and have to explain that one to the police.
Not a good idea. Her magic was unpredictable at best. She’d
hid it from him, not wanting to go there. It wasn’t her fault she was born a
witch. It was her choice whether or not to use it. If something needing a spell
came up, she waited until her hubby was off doing engineer things or sleeping
in front of the television. Proof. She needed more proof. The laptop whirled to
life and she pulled up her search engine.
What about a private detective? She had a little mad money
put aside for the dress she wanted for the romance writer’s convention in a few
months. Magdalay had no idea what the detective would cost, but she had to
know. With unblinking eyes she typed, private investigator Spinnaker, Texas
then she closed her eyes, rolled the mouse, and clicked on the Blue Moon
Detective Agency.
About the author:
Dana Wright has always had a fascination with things that go
bump in the night. She is often found playing at local bookstores, trying not
to maim herself with crochet hooks or knitting needles, watching monster movies
with her husband and furry kids or blogging about books. More commonly, she is
chained to her computers, writing like a woman possessed. She is currently
working on several children's stories, young adult fiction, romantic suspense,
short stories and is trying her hand at poetry. She is a contributing author to
Ghost Sniffer’s CYOA, Siren’s Call E-zine in their “Women in Horror” issue in
February 2013 and "Revenge" in October 2013, a contributing author to
Potatoes!, Fossil Lake, Of Dragons and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds, Undead
in Pictures, Potnia, Shadows and Light, Dark Corners (upcoming), Wonderstruck,
Shifters: A Charity Anthology, Dead Harvest, Monster Diaries, Holiday Horrors
and the Roms, Bombs and Zoms Anthology from Evil Girlfriend Media. She is the
author of Asylum, The Invitation and Texas Twister. Dana has also reviewed music for
Muzikreviews.com specializing in New Age and alternative music and has been a
contributing writer to Eternal Haunted Summer, Massacre Magazine, Metaphor
Magazine, The Were Traveler October 2013 edition: The Little Magazine of
Magnificent Monsters, the December 2013 issue The Day the Zombies Ruled the
Earth. She currently reviews music at New Age Music Reviews and Write a Music
Review.
Follow Dana’s reviews:
Twitter: @danawrite
Author
site and newsletter: http://danawrightauthor.wix.com/danawright
Facebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/danawrightauthor
The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/DanaWright
