HEXED AND VEXED by Rebecca Royce

HEXED AND VEXED by Rebecca Royce


Olive White has had a terrible six months. It's not bad enough that years earlier she earned the nickname "Worst Witch In Witching School," she is now being forced to watch the love of her life, Campbell Bane, marry her sister Cindy. And she’s being asked to do so in a pink, puke-colored bridesmaid’s dress. Vexed doesn’t begin to describe how she feels....

Her powers pick the wedding as the perfect moment to turn on, zapping both her ex and her to a magical island not found on any map. Someone is bound to find them, but perhaps Olive can get some answers, once and for all.

When Campbell falls ill, she uses her considerable skills to save his life, but can she believe him when he tells her he still loves her and always has? Was he hexed, or is it all a flimsy excuse for breaking her heart?

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~Excerpt~

“Tell me again how we ended up here. And speak slowly so I can understand every word you say.” A muscle clenched in his jaw.

“Well.” She might have preferred Campbell not bringing up her tendency to rush through speech when she felt nervous. “I think I may have, completely unintentionally of course, zapped us here.”

“You. Zapped. Us. Here.” He nodded in between each word like he needed to make sense of all of them individually before he could move on. He ran a hand through his dark hair. Strands she herself had once caressed on a nightly basis before he’d gone and decided to marry her sister, thus destroying her life.

“Exactly.” She hitched up her pink monstrosity of a dress and walked toward the inviting waves. The sea air tingled against her skin.

Campbell grabbed her arm. “Olive White, you’ve never successfully performed one spell. Not even one.”

“Yes, you would know that since you were with me every single time I bumbled one. The worst witch in witching school.” She hated that phrase and obviously, she’d made a spell work. Even if she hadn’t meant to. Maybe she could finally lose the nickname.

“Yes.” He smiled at her, letting her arm go. For a second, she saw his brown eyes sparkle like they had when he used to look at her, in the days before the whole world had shifted sideways. But then as fast as the adoration had appeared it vanished. “Well, since you can suddenly make the gift of the ancestors work, zap us back.”

Campbell tapped his foot on the sand like she should hurry up and get the job done. She stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand, at the image he portrayed.

He still wore his tuxedo. In the sand.

Dark hair, dark eyes, and dressed in a designer tuxedo, complete with a black bowtie that had to have been Cindy’s idea, he stood on the beach looking like a fish that had suddenly found itself in a bird’s nest. He really didn’t belong in his current habitat. At least not dressed like that.

Olive covered her mouth to hide her smile. Campbell always fit in wherever he went and even though it seemed mean to laugh, especially because it was her fault that he’d landed on the beach, she couldn’t help but find amusement in how uncomfortable he appeared. After her months of pain, he deserved the hours ahead of him.

He stood waiting for her to answer his declaration. Her sister’s fiancé wanted her to bring them back immediately if not sooner.

“I can’t undo the spell, Campbell. And I’m not sorry about it. Not even a little bit.”

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BLOOD HEX by Erin Butler

BLOOD HEX by Erin Butler

Two girls. Four centuries. One curse.

Isabella started it—all because a boy fell in love with her—but it ends with Sarah.

Isabella and Thomas meet in secret during the witching hours while the rest of the villagers hide behind locked doors. And even though Isabella's scared, she wants Thomas more. He'll protect her from the night, from his father who'll decide her future, and from the paranoia-fueled hunting parties taking away innocents.

Centuries later, seventeen-year old Sarah runs away to an aunt she never knew she had. Her dad? Dead. Her mother? A liar. She wants the memories of a father she never got, but instead, discovers her father's death wasn’t innocent. Everyone—the Wiccans, the townies, even her quasi-boyfriend—is hiding something. The history-rich town has a secret they will kill to keep, entangling Sarah into a centuries old witch curse.

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Excerpt:

 

The lights around the park dimmed. I twisted toward the makeshift stage again. Forty feet away, a figure stood tall, elevated by the 2x4’s that lay out on the grass only a few hours ago. A hooded black robe disguised the guy, not that I would know who he was anyway. The dark night, the material folding over his head, made him look like a faceless grim reaper. It was dusk and getting darker, the pink deepening to a rose red.


The robed figure lifted his hand, smooth, indifferent, a marionette being played with. His hand made a wide, sweeping horizontal arc, pointing into the faces of everybody.


My stomach twisted and turned into knots. Drake bumped into my shoulder and held out a drink as he sat down. Then, the figure yanked his hands in the air and a big blaze of fire erupted from the space between the stage and the audience. I jumped, deftly managing to spill half my soda. I barely noticed.


Flames shot up, reaching toward the night. The smell of gasoline used for ignition hung in the air. A few people laughed behind me. Drake even joined in. “Gotcha,” he said, leaning over, whispering in my ear. With him so close, the cologne clinging to his long, black robe smothered the wood smoke that had filled my nostrils.


I peered at him. He turned away and pulled his hood up. He was the exact match of the person on stage.


I sat with a wizard. I talked with a wizard.


I made fun of people for things like this.


Still, I inched closer to him. The fire, the reddish sky, the grim reaper, the witches, everything. It got to me. An eerie feeling tangled itself within every thought, like something hidden watched from just beyond sight.


On the stage, the figure in the dark cloak threw back the hood. The fire glow cast the face in shadows, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of orange, red, and black. The speakers thumped, thumped, thumped as the black hooded figure tapped the front of the microphone. The hollow sound echoed throughout the open park and bounced off the surrounding buildings. No one talked. They barely even moved. Only the slight ripple of the crowd as everyone inclined their heads and inched forward, awe-struck.


The wind picked up, fueling the flames. The blazed erupted, flaring up, lighting the figure's face. I gasped.


The grim reaper wasn’t a guy. It was Rose.


Drake peeked over at me, his eyebrows knit together. “You okay?”


“That’s my aunt,” I whispered loud, still trying to comprehend it myself. “What is she doing up there?”


"She's the leader.”


"Huh?" Uneasiness squeezed my chest, like the time I went to see that stupid Ouija board movie with friends. They all laughed through the scary parts while I spent most of the movie with my heart trembling and one second away from closing my eyes. “Leader of what?”


“This.” Drake opened his arms wide and twisted his body, scanning the corners of the five-sided park. “She puts all this together.”


I took it all in. Giant banners announced “Adams Colonization”, eerie witch posters and mannequins with stringy green hair and large, red eyeballs stared back. The guards along the stage dressed in old brown suits and hats I guessed were supposed to be replicas of what the first settlers wore. The costumes reminded me of pilgrims. They stood at attention, faces impassible as they monitored the crowd. The picture sank into my brain, this parallel reality where past met present in a jumbled mesh.


Drake leaned into me again. “Sorry. I should have told you.”


No wonder why she said she was too busy to hang out with me. I snuck forward a little, caught up in the surprise appearance of Rose. The arm that had been touching Drake instantly chilled. He was so nice. And cute. But the reason why I came here was up on that stage.


Rose’s voice rang out, low and seductive. “On this day in 1610, our ancestors inhabited a foreign land. Today, we call that piece of land Adams, Virginia.” Scattered applause swelled through the park. “Our ancestors brought with them superstition…and fear from England. Men and women, children—all terrified of one thing.” Rose's hypnotic voice was mesmerizing and I leaned forward even more. “Witches.” The stare of an old, wise woman lingered over everybody and when her eyes met mine, a pool of black reflected the licking orange flames.


“They fled here, terrified of the supernatural. They hoped to start a new life. One without the constant paranoia. They failed. Our ancestors lived in complete, maddening, unrelenting fear their entire lives. Are we like them?” Audible no's and descending grunts rose from the crowd. “No. We're not.” Her voice pitched higher, and louder. “Today, we embrace our history. Today, we stare the supernatural in the face and laugh at it.” Loud cheers erupted from every corner of the park and Rose shouted over them, “Today, we celebrate!”


Rose motioned to the side of the reaching flames. Two men in the ugly brown trousers and jackets nodded. “During this opening ceremony, we will conquer fear as they did back in the old days.” The men pulled at ropes, hoisting a cross into the air. Mounted to the cross beam was the body of a woman, her mouth agape in horror.


I drew in a sharp breath. I felt Drake move next to me so I turned my gaze on him. A sly smile graced his face. He put his arm around me, pulling me closer. “Are you scared?” he whispered.


I couldn't speak. These people were freakin' crazy. My eyes darted through the crowd, looking for a policeman—somebody—who might stop this.


“Don't worry. We always do this on opening night,” Drake said, pulling me even closer, rubbing my shoulder with his hand.


I wanted to scream at him to do something, to help the poor woman. He only sat smiling, eyes bright with anticipation. I knocked his hand off me and pulled away, but before I could wiggle free of Drake's arms and run to the fire pit, the cotton clothes the woman wore caught fire from the reaching flames underneath. My breath clogged my throat. I didn't know whether to scream first, or cry.


The flames spread fast. The waistline already edged with black char before the fire incinerated it. Dark gray smoke furled over the helpless woman and puffed up toward the blood red sky.

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D IS FOR DESIRE by Jianne Carlo

D IS FOR DESIRE by Jianne Carlo

Witchy Women Series

Appointed Barbados' acting Attorney General, Dee Bloom, failed witchy healer, wants one last fling. Alex Mayfield, West Palm playboy fits the bill perfectly. Doesn't he?

An orphan, Alex is engaged to a Mayflower debutante, but he's obsessed with Dee.

Sparks erupt when they meet in Trinidad on Carnival Monday. Belly-button tequila shots, Dee's scanty costume, mud baths, dancing in the streets, explodes into a week of sexual ecstasy. Stunned by his reactions to Dee, Alex retreats.

Three months elapse. A pregnant Dee makes network news when she's kidnapped by a drug-lord.

Show and tell time.

Dee agrees to marry Alex. It's the end of her career, the end of her witchy healing, until her best friend's diagnosed with cancer. At six months pregnant, Dee awakens in a pool of blood.

Can she learn to control her powers? Cure her best friend? Will her baby survive? Will Alex ever trust her again?

"I had so much fun writing Dee and Alex's story. I love the way she's strong and decisive in her career, but terrified and confused when it comes to the simple things like bathing a newborn, or cooking. And she's a control freak who can't manage her own witchy powers married to a dominating man whose devilish good looks and easy charm ooze seduction." ~ Jiane ~

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Excerpt:

 

Alex's gaze swept to Dee, and something tugged at his soul.

Carefree mother earth goddess, hands thrown up in the air, forefingers pointed, eyes closed, sensuality personified. She bent her knees and did a rapid stripper's roll, circling her hip to the left. The burlap flap fell away as her bottom lifted, and Alex got a ten-second glimpse of a high, rounded, naked cheek. A slash of scarlet slashed its edge. Dizzying desire sparked lightning bolts, and primordial instincts wrestled away any remaining veneer of civilized man.

His hands snaked around Dee's narrow waist, and he locked them together. Dee jerked to a halt becoming un-pliant in his embrace. Alex pulled her back to his chest. Her head popped around, and she didn't seem surprised to discover it was he. Dee let him hug her, but Alex felt her doubt in the rigid tension of her spine. He loosened his hold letting a few inches separate them. Gradually, she began moving to the music, hips undulating. Alex drew her closer in small increments until they chipped forward together.

A large man bumped into Alex's shoulder, warm liquid from the bottle in his hand sloshed over Alex's arm. Sparks lit the dark morning to the right of them, and the pungent aroma of marijuana battled those of rum and perspiration for dominance.

"Here comes the rain." Michael materialized at Alex's side. The music halted for a moment, and his shout resonated over the shuffling of feet. "The bubbies, here comes the bubbies. I need some whiskey and a woman to wine on."

A smattering of stinging, cold raindrops assaulted Alex's skin.

Michael passed the bottle of Black Label to Dee. She twisted out of Alex's arms to get it, took a swift swallow, and plopped the bottle into his hands. He took a sip of the fiery liquid and gave it to Jake.

Alex's eyes were drawn inexorably to Dee's breasts. Sure enough, her nipples had hardened under the chill torrent of raindrops, tightening into stiff, round points. His lips dried out, parched, thirsting. His mouth burned with the need to suckle, sip at those nubs. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and took another long swig, trying to eradicate the flood of lust threatening an embarrassing release. When he encircled her waist again, Dee relaxed, snuggling into his arms. His cock grazed the small of her back, feeding on the slight friction. A fierce breeze whooshed down the six-lane road, puckering flesh.

Dee's petite form shuddered, bursting into a series of little shivers. Alex touched his mouth to her ear. "Cold?"

Dainty hands came up to cup her shoulders, and she nodded.

Planting his feet wide apart, Alex shouted, "Stay there." He braced against the crowds milling at his back, hooked his t-shirt over his head, and offered it to her.

The crowd jostled Alex along the length of a blaring music truck. A man wearing black spandex cycle shorts sang into a microphone under the fluorescent lights of a canopied music truck. He warbled a calypso, equal parts Rap and Soca, his bluesy voice climbing above the crowd's sing-a-long and the rain's drumming. The moment proved intoxicating in the extreme. The scent of musky coupling and sweet rum filled the air. The music wove into Alex's brain. Pelvises gyrated friction, from the front, behind, and at the sides.

As individuals, they held no goals, no direction. As a united crowd, bent on sensory pleasure, music, elation, touching, grinding, the scent of heated arousal, a sugary, languid, soaring excitement with one end in sight: climax, the poignant fulfillment of a bacchanalian dawning. J'ouvert, the day opening, the literal translation of the term.

Drunkenness stole over Alex in time to the rising red ball of the sun on the horizon. They crossed the Savannah Stage at six o'clock. The band refused to leave the wide wooden podium, even after some self-important official pleaded with them over a megaphone to let other bands have their turn.

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EMERGING MAGIC by Lizzie T Leaf

EMERGING MAGIC by Lizzie T. Leaf

Magical Love Series

Against her will, the Cailleach puts into play the magic to unite another pair of soul mates.

Loneliness drives Cori Sparks to chocolate. The fledging witch's desolation also compels her to attempt using her emerging magic in the quest for love. Unsuccessful, she turns to a dating website and discovers what may be her perfect match.

Rob Vesha is tired of the money hungry women he meets. Given his gene pool he doesn't think the real 'him' would excite them as much, but he can't share enough to find out for sure. On impulse he turns to the internet and discovers Cori.

Can their love survive his family reunion in Transylvania?

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~Excerpt~

Prologue

"Powers that be, I ask of thee,

Show me the good,

Show me the bad,

Show me the ones,

I am to make glad."

The Cailleach gazed into the glass orb, waiting for the swirling fog to lift and show her at least one of the faces for her next union. Nothing. Just like the other times she'd recently attempted, the mist didn't part.

If the Powers want me to devote a good amount of time to this, they best be showing me the couple. Come spring, I'll be busy with bringing the Earth back to life.

She cast an eye out at the snow, so thick one would get lost in it if they attempted to travel. And the cold…it had been a long time since there had been such a deep freeze. There was more to the making of this weather than just her efforts. Other powers had to be involved to generate an arctic blast of this proportion. Her body objected to every bone chilling day of it too. But she'd just have to grin and bear it until the snow stopped. A trip to the healing faerie was out of the question with this storm.

Rubbing her arthritic hands, the hag's mind turned to the wedding of her favorite couple and for a few minutes she basked in memories of the fun shared by all present. The news that Emma expected a babe in the early summer delighted her heart. DooNell had stopped by their castle a few days earlier, and saw Prince Ian. Someone holding a gun to his head couldn't have stopped the grin that split his face when he shared the news.

She'd had her doubts about the Powers choice of her to unite soul mates, but her first efforts had proved successful. In her heart, she believed no matter how many magical spells were cast, true love fell outside the meddling of those who held magic. Still, if the paths of the intended lovers never crossed, there would be no chance for them to love. The magic set the events into play that would put them in the same place at the same time. From there, it was up to the lovers.

Now, if the Powers would only make up their minds and give her the faces of the pair she needed to unite this time, the challenge would help her through the remaining winter months. She'd welcome the distraction from her aches and pains.

Chapter One

A chill ran up DooNell's arms, the sparse hairs on them standing on end as goosebumps marched up her shoulders and played across her back.

It appears I have a guest.

The sensations ceased as quickly as they'd commenced. Pushing up from her chair, the old hag grinned. She glanced in the direction of a copper kettle steaming on the cast iron stove as she shuffled over to the door and flung it open.

The Cailleach studied the woman wrapped in a fur lined cloak, with the hood pulled forward to the point of almost hiding her face, standing in her doorway.

"Ye gonna enter or stand there all day? I need to be shutting this door to the chill. My bones don't much care for the damp."

"Delighted to see you're in good humor." Aphrodite swept into the room.

"What brings ye out on a blustery day like this, goddess?" Without asking, DooNell measured tea into a chipped porcelain pot and filled it to the brim with steaming water. "Thought a cuppa might help warm us up a bit." While the tea steeped, she reached for two cups and saucers from one of the shelves of the cabinet beside the stove.

"Thank you." Aphrodite pulled a chair out from under the round table and sat, pushing the cloak off her shoulders and letting it drape over the back. "As for my visit, I need your help."

"Ye don't say." DooNell's eyebrows shot up toward the matching hair that recently had come to resemble the mounds of snow lingering on the north side her cabin. "And in what matter can an old woman like meself assist a goddess so powerful?"

"Your wee faerie friend as you call her-need I say more?"

"Ah." DooNell placed the cups of tea on the table and eased her body into a chair across from Aphrodite. "I thought ye'd fixed her up in her mortal life."

Aphrodite sucked in her cheeks. Her lips twisted in obvious irritation as her fingers drummed against the wooden table. "I would have if she'd not been such snippy little bitch when I tried to help her. That attitude of ‘I'll do it myself' made me decide to let her try life on as a mortal. Being on her own may be good for her. She had identity papers and enough money to survive for a few months if she was careful with her spending."

The goddess tossed a lock of hair behind her shoulder and sipped her tea. Her cup clanked against the saucer when she abruptly sat it down and continued. "I think enough time has passed that her money is getting low and she may be more receptive of my offer to help." Aphrodite's full mouth curved upward and she lowered her eyelids, hooding her blue eyes from direct contact with the Cailleach's.

DooNell sensed the goddess watching her for a reaction, but chose to only nod and wait.

"Anyway, that's why I came to you for help."

"How so?" The Cailleach watched the glowing female struggle for the words and had to admit she enjoyed seeing one used to control in need of her help.

"I want to make sure she really is open for me to approach her again. I don't do well with rejection as you well know." For a brief moment, Aphrodite seemed unsure, then she shrugged. "It annoys me."
DooNell made no attempt to hold back a hoot of laughter. "Aye, that much I know to be true. What do ye need from me?"

"If you could use your crystal ball to scry her current situation I would appreciate it." The blue of the goddess's eyes deepened as her look drifted in the direction where the Cailleach stored her precious crystal. "Knowing her attitude before I reached out to her would let me decide if another effort is worth my time."

"Hmm, I see yer point." DooNell rose and cleared the tea cups. When she made it to the cabinet, she lifted the heavy crystal orb from the shelf. Both hands clasped firm around her precious piece of glass, she carried it over, placed it in the center of the table, and took her seat.

"Let's see what we can see." The Cailleach's gnarled hands waved back and forth above the crystal.

"Show me where

the wee faerie be and

if help is what she needs

to be sent there?

The fog swirled for a moment before it separated and revealed a woman. Leaning forward, the Cailleach and goddess peered at the scene before them.

Morgana sat in a booth upholstered with cheap red plastic, toying with the spoon that lay next to a cracked white mug.

DooNell's mouth dropped open at the vision before her. Gone were the lustrous dark curls, replaced now with thin, lank hair pulled back into a ponytail. A large clump on the left had escaped and hung down one side of her face, appearing to almost drip with oil. DooNell understood why the Faerie tried to tie it back. Didn't she ever wash it?

Worse still was her skin. The clear complexion that once held a rosy glow still had a rosy color all right-spots. But the spots were from bad skin. Pimples dotted most of the woman's face and the few clear areas were blotchy.

No longer the little sprite that tormented so many on several realms, she had now doubled in size. The Faerie-that once couldn't pass a mirror or a pool of water without taking a peek to admire her image-not only had a plump body and splotchy face, but wore out-of-date clothes that fit too tight in some places and hung in others.

It appeared the Powers had not been kind in their banishment of Morgana the Haughty.

"Here you go, Ana." The waitress placed a piece of paper on the table. "You sure you don't want more than coffee? Our meat loaf special is pretty good today."

Morgana, the woman the waitress called Ana, shook her head.

"Then let me get you a refill and I'll bring some extra cream."

The waitress quickly returned with a coffee pot and a dish heaped with small plastic containers of creamer. After she refilled the cracked mug, she studied her customer.

"That's a nasty looking zit. Bet it hurts. You need to pop it."

"Pop it?"

DooNell observed the growing confusion in Ana's eyes.

"Yeah, stick a needle in it and squeeze out the white goop. Make it heal faster if you're lucky."

The misery on Ana's face wasn't hard to read. When another customer yelled for the waitress and she hurried off to attend to their demands, Ana picked up the slip of paper and stared at it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few coins. Slowly, she counted the change out onto the table.

Done with paying for the coffee, she pulled a napkin from the chrome holder next to the wall. She jotted something on the thin paper with a pen she'd picked up from the floor. Ana blinked several times in a battle to stop the tears that pooled in her eyes as she looked at the numbers.

Aphrodite leaned back in her chair and smirked. "She looks like a reject from a homeless shelter."
The goddess rubbed her hands together in a manner DooNell could almost swear was glee before she continued. "It appears Cailleach, your wee faerie has fallen to the point she may welcome my offer to help."

DooNell nodded. Though a hard-headed mischief maker the Faerie Morgana may have been, the hag's heart ached for the woman Ana. She needed help and soon.

When the Cailleach looked up from her wool-gathering she discovered the room now empty. She smiled, her one long tooth gleaming in the ray of sun that poured through the window. It seems help is on the way.

The old hag turned her attention back to the crystal ball. Perhaps the time had come for the Powers to show her the next pair of soul mates.

She waved her hands and mumbled a chant. Relief flowed through her as the fog lifted. The face of the woman that floated in the glass brought joy to the hag. She liked Emma's sister, Cori, and knew from what Emma had shared the lass was lonely. The young witch deserved to find happiness.

With another wave across the ball, she searched for Cori's soul mate. DooNell waited as the fog continued to swirl. She'd almost given up when the mist lifted and the male's face appeared.

DooNell gasped and fell back in her chair. Had the Powers made a mistake? Were they playing a joke on her? If not, there was no way she could set forth the magic to unite Cori with this one. It would be unnatural!

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FOUR GEEKS AND A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

FOUR GEEKS AND A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

Warrior's Craft Book Five

Daphne is at San Diego's Comic Conference to hook up with four guys she's been flirting with online. Tired of using her powers as a sensitive for routine psychic readings, she wants some action! There's more to life than gaming and she can help people for real.

Four hot young geeks keep her very satisfied but there's a predator in their midst. Young lonely men are falling ill every night. Daphne senses one of her men might be the next target. She's fighting a powerful older woman who's more than a wolf in cougar clothing!

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Warrior's Craft 5: Four Geeks & A Witch
Cheryl Dragon
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Cheryl Dragon

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Trying very hard not to get her hopes up, Daphne Fleming knocked on the hotel room door. The Comic/Fantasy/Sci-Fi convention attendees had packed the place already, but for Daphne it was simply an excuse to meet some non-celebrity men in person. Her four guys had texted her their room number and had a spare key waiting for her.

It wasn't like her to hook up with strangers. Technically, she'd never met them in person before, but she knew them. Men online had disappointed her again and again, but this wasn't some dating connection. She'd found them while teaching a class for their online coven for men. Modern day pagan warriors for good impressed her, but of all the groups of men in her class, these four were special. The very idea of fighting for good in real life turned her on, and she'd spent tons of time with them via webcam in the last few months.

They weren't using the coven to meet women either. The men were clearly bisexual and involved with each other already.

Plus they had power! Two of them especially possessed strong energy that pulled at her. She needed to meet them.

Being a sensitive had its advantages, like feeling people out before she got too close to them. The fact that she could sense how many men were liars and users out in the world made her sad at the prospects. Somehow she'd lucked into four guys who, much like herself, didn't fit into the mainstream.

The door opened and four sexy geeks stood there staring at her. She hugged them without a word. They'd chatted online; Skype was a wonderful thing. L.A. wasn't far from San Diego, but she didn't have the money to drive back and forth all the time plus missing work, and they had a business to run.

"Who's minding the store?" Daphne asked.

Elvis grabbed her big suitcase. "I have my brother running it for now. He's not much of a gamer, but he'll do it for the money."

She sat on one of the two double beds and admired the guys. Elvis was tall with brown hair and blue eyes, cute but the type to be all business or all fun. Daphne believed he had a switch somewhere. When she joked during the class, he never got it.

"Something to drink?" Julius offered, gesturing to the cooler perched on the ledge by the window.
"No, I'm good." Daphne felt like the center of attention and let herself reach out to feel the men mentally. They were as wonderful as she'd felt from home.

Julius was blond with brown eyes and an expressive mouth. He wasn't as tall as Elvis, but supposedly was the handyman of the group. She knew he and Kurt had been in college together and became lovers there. The bond between them was strong, but she felt the love flowing in all directions.

Kurt sat on the other bed, watching her. Staring back, she smiled. His brown hair and ordinary face made him easily overlooked, but he had a big heart. And she'd seen him shirtless. The things the five of them had done online! But what were your mid-twenties for if not enjoying life? Great sex while trying to do good things was more than most people had.

Helping people was something she and Kurt had in common. He'd taken a year after college to volunteer building homes and helping people after disasters. Then he'd found Julius again. She was glad. The four of them made a very sexy sort of relationship.

Yet from the moment she'd met them online, she'd felt their need that was muffled and clamped down like a secret. Without a woman there wouldn't be true happiness. Bisexuality was still a misunderstood taboo to many.

The last guy sat at the desk and tapped on his laptop. The geekiest of them all, Nolan Haller was great with a computer and played every game under the sun. He loved the fantasy world more than the real one at times.

"Do I disappoint you, Nolan?" Daphne kicked off her chunky black boots.

She was pleased with the vibe of the men. All were attractive, not bodybuilders but hot geeks. The guys were all in jeans and T-shirts that showed their comic love and loyalty.

Joining them at Comic Con was the most natural thing in the world. She loved much of the features she'd see here. Her Buffy the Vampire Slayer T-shirt and black jeans let her fit right in with their various comic shirts.

Nolan turned. "No, but we're not going to jump on you either. We're not animals."

Elvis sat next to Daphne. "It's true. We want to get to know you more in person, not just hook up."

She smiled. They were telling the truth. "So do I, but Nolan is the one who turned our online meetings dirty when he asked me to flash you guys via webcam. Then he flashed me. He even started the sexting stuff. I figured he'd be the most eager."

Nolan closed his computer. "We've been doing online dates and chats for months. Either I'm going to be all over you or have some self-control."

The heat and testosterone in the room worked on her. "Such gentlemen, especially considering we've seen each other largely naked, just not in person."

"You're like a fantasy that hopped out of the computer." Julius sat next Kurt.

"I'm real. I promise. So no one is disappointed? Good." She leaned over and kissed Elvis.

A spark ran through her. He held a lot of power but contained it. A powerful grounding influence if she ever needed it. It'd felt so right, but reality would prove out. That's what she had to know. Was it real? Her hands roamed under his shirt, and he was lean with nice muscle tone. When he pulled away, Daphne saw him blushing. "We're not just about sex," he said.

"I know, but we won't be ourselves and relax until we take the edge off." She looked over at Kurt and Julius. "Don't you agree?"

"Totally." Kurt smiled and tugged off Julius' shirt.

For a moment she watched the two men kiss as they undressed each other. In the geek world, she could have four random men just screwing her any day. But Elvis was right; it was more than sex. The connection was special, and the bigger the bond and more intimate they were, the stronger they could be. Plus men touching each other made her insanely wet!

She yanked off Elvis' Batman shirt and opened his fly. His hips lifted as she dragged the jeans and boxers down. Sensing Nolan watching her, she looked and caught him staring. Elvis' cock hardened as she stroked it and she motioned for Nolan to move closer.

"Get us all naked and run?" Nolan asked as he approached.

She smiled and kissed him. "Why would I leave four hot and horny men? I'm not a tease. I'm as eager as you are."

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MAGICAL KISS by Virginia Cavanaugh

MAGICAL KISS by Virginia Cavanaugh

Being a carnal magic user doesn’t make Breeze Hawthorne “easy”. In fact, she’s tired of the nasty names her kind tends to get labeled with. So when she finds herself paired with sexy water user Chehon McFlint, she’s determined to keep things professional, no matter how bad her body burns for him.

A horrid beast is about to break loose from an underwater prison and Breeze is running low on juice. When she fails to get hold of her usual service partner, she’s faced with a decision that could cost her emotionally. Chehon seems ready, willing and able to handle the job of recharging her, but Breeze isn’t so sure he’ll leave her heart intact when the job is over.

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An Excerpt From: MAGICAL KISS

Copyright © VIRGINIA CAVANAUGH, 2013

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

 

“This better be important.” Breeze Hawthorne pulled off her helmet, running one hand through her black-and-purple short hair. It had already been a long night, but she couldn’t ignore the last-minute text from her superior telling her she was needed ASAP. Working for Magical and Mystic Security had its days—well, mostly nights—that totally made her want to get out of the witch business for good. But one would have to have a choice to be able to get out and things don’t work that way in the magic business. The magic chose the person, not the other way around. Once you had it, you had it. Then you could only decide what to do with it.

Sure, she could open up a little shop and don the bright-colored dress and head covering, peddling potions and fortunes, but what would be the fun in that? Most nights she loved her job. Making other magical creatures quake in fear had its perks. And there was that whole saving humanity part that was cool too. But nights like tonight, when she had already needed to stop and shower off preternatural goo twice… Well, yeah, you get the picture.

Shadows danced in the dimly lit alleyway as a cat screeched and landed on a tin trash can with a metallic rumble. The man standing in the shadows pushed away from the cinderblock wall and began a slow cocky pace toward her. She knew that walk. It had been months since they’d been paired together. Chehon McFlint. A sexy warlock with nasty power. He drew his powers from the element water. And damn if he didn’t have the body of an Olympic swimmer.

He strode forward, and as he walked under the soft, yellow glow of a security light she could see his mischievous smile. His dirty-blond hair hung in waves that skimmed his strong shoulders. The baby-blue tank top he wore did little to hide his expansive sun-kissed chest. Smooth skin stretched tight over superb muscles. Damn if she wouldn’t mind having a bite of that. White cargo shorts hung low on his lean hips. The light waft of air brought his scent into her nose. Salt. Sea. Man.

Moisture gathered around her lower lips and she rocked forward on her motorcycle, applying pressure to her sensitive clit. Her energy was low. At least she blamed her body’s reaction to him on that, but in truth she’d wanted him for months. However, she drew the line at sleeping with possible partners. Being a carnal magic user, she had to be careful. Sex fueled her magic. Because of this, people in the witch and warlock community tended to treat her kind like whores and big ole sluts. She got no respect as a person, however, plenty was given to her as a witch. But only because carnal magic held the second most power, the first being blood magic. Those witches and warlocks were even rarer.

“Hello, Chehon. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

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MATING CALL by BA Tortuga

MATING CALL by BA Tortuga

Stephanie has three rules when it comes to her relationship with werewolves Shaw and Jordan—keep their lusty encounters casual, never invade each other’s space and no biting. The boys have always seemed perfectly fine with all that, leaving her plenty of time to do her magick and keep her shop going.

Her rules come back to haunt her when the local pack leader gives Jordan and Shaw an ultimatum—find a mate or find another city to live in. Jordan and Shaw hate having to ask Stephanie to help them find a mate. She’s not just their best friend, she’s the hottest lover they’ve ever had. The boys will have their hands full convincing Steph that rules are made to be broken, before it is too late.
 

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An Excerpt From: MATING CALL

Copyright © BA TORTUGA, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

The smell of burned sage never got out of robes.

 

Never.

 

Stephanie shook the heavy ceremonial robe, the fabric soft in her hands, and sighed. Maybe it was time to take it to the dry cleaners. Obviously Woolite wasn’t doing it. She hung it over the back of her grandmother’s rocking chair. Tomorrow she would worry about the robe. Tonight the boys were coming over.

 

Tonight she’d be coming, over and over, if she was lucky.

 

Jordan and Shaw were worth shaving her legs for. They were worth all the fancy lotion she smeared on her body. They were…well, they were a force of nature.

 

She grabbed her broom and swept the floor, picking up the little bits of herbs and candle wax and fur. Pyewacket was already in her spot atop the big wardrobe in the dining room that held Steph’s supplies, black tail hanging down.

 

A soft yowl sounded as she came close and she reached up, tweaked Wacky’s tail. “I know, sweet lady, but it’s almost the full moon, and Goddess knows I’m not getting any hot, hunky loving outside of the two of them.”

 

Wacky’s yellow eyes glowed in the dim light, seeming to tell her what an idiot she was. That cat was expressive, almost magically so.

 

“Two years and I get about four orgasms per full moon. That’s not bad for one night a month.” It was close to perfect, really. She got her freedom to work, update the website, create her spell kits and ship them out. The day before the full moon she saved for her best boys.

 

They were horny then, and they put aside their worries about the pack to come to her. They worried about their pack a lot, apparently. She was like their mother confessor a little.

 

Which, okay, whoa. Not sexy, with the holster hips and the penguin-outfit thing.

 

No, today was tight jeans and a tank top, a see-through shimmery top in the same color as her eyes, deep and dark. Hrm…but they loved her in green, though she teased them about dogs being color blind. Oh, the green sundress. She loved that and it was easy access.

 

Wacky yowled again and she chuckled, stroking the puffy tail on her way by. “I’m making them steaks, of course. They’re bringing dessert. You, lady, are getting tuna so you can hide in the library.”

Tuna for her cat, a nice long shower for her then sizzle the steaks on either side for her boys.

 

It was a good plan.

 

* * * * *

 

“Do you think she’ll help?”

 

Jordan stared at the dessert case, trying to decide between spice cake and those éclair thingies. He ignored Shaw’s question as best he could, not wanting to think about what they were about to ask Steph to do.

 

“Are you listening to me? Do you think she’ll do it?” Shaw was one hell of a puppy some days, bouncing and moving constantly. Jordan wanted to snap at Shaw’s ear.

 

“I don’t know. Éclairs?” They were going to ask their lover to find them a mate who wasn’t her. Why would she help?

 

“I like éclairs. She likes the ones with chocolate.” Shaw looked closer. “Can I have pecan pies?”

“Only if you don’t pass out after we all fuck and leave me to talk to her alone.” Such. A. Pup.

 

“I won’t!”

 

The girl behind the counter gasped, turned bright red, and Shaw’s head ducked.

 

“Sorry, honey.” Jordan smiled a little, not wanting to bare his teeth “We need two éclairs, a spice cake and two of the pecan pies.”

 

“Sure. Do you want any cookies? We have snickerdoodles.”

 

Snickerdoodles. Wow.

 

“No. No more sugar for this one.” He jerked his thumb at Shaw.

 

“Hey!” Bright-green eyes flashed up at him from under the unruly shock of big red hair.

 

“I’m getting you pies.” He popped Shaw’s ass, loving that squeak.

 

They got another wide-eyed look from the girl behind the counter. Wow. Wow. He had to watch his damn mouth. He was just so fucking horny this time of the month. He could just toss Shaw down and fuck him raw. Thing was, that wouldn’t sate him. He needed Steph too.

 

There was something about the pair of them—her sweet body wrapped around his cock while Shaw took her mouth. Or Shaw’s ass working him while he watched his lover lick Steph’s creamy…

 

He groaned, and Shaw stared at him, sporting an amazing hard-on and a look of pure lust. Damn it.

 

They were never going to manage to just talk to her. Never. They needed her help, though.

 

“We need to go.” Shaw’s voice was pure rumble, very little human.

 

“Get it together, baby.” It was just stress. The moon coming. That shit.

 

“Here you go.” The girl handed over the bag with the pastries, pulling her hand back as though they might bite her. He didn’t even bother handing her the cash, leaving it on the counter to give the poor girl space. “Keep the change, honey.”

 

“Thanks.” Jordan grabbed Shaw and dragged him out.

 

“Teasing asshole. Fuck, I smell you.”

 

“Hush.” They needed to stop revving up, at least until they got in the truck. They were going to embarrass themselves.

 

“Uh-huh.” Shaw bounced a little bit, the shithead. Jordan had to wonder whether Nyla had given him espresso this morning.

 

“I mean it, Shaw. I’ll tie you up when we get to Steph’s.” That made his pup crazy, being forced to be still.

 

“You won’t.” Shaw groaned, almost rubbed against him.

 

“I will, baby. I’ll make you scream.”

 

As crazy making as Shaw was, his sweet mate could make his mouth dry, make him ache for it. He loved that boy to distraction. He reached over and touched Shaw’s thigh.

 

The lean muscles jerked and jumped, shifted under his fingers, even the cloth of Shaw’s jeans not hiding the movement. Shaw’s cock pressed hard against the zipper, and Jordan had to fight the urge to open those jeans and take that hardness into his hand.

 

“I hope she’s ready for us.” Shaw panted, licked his lips. “I want you.”

 

“I want you, baby. I want both of you. I can’t wait to strip you down and do you while you lick her.”

He wanted to just grab Shaw by the hair and fuck that pretty mouth. Christ, his hands were shaking.

 

“I could suck you, now, before we get there. I so could.”

 

“No.” No, they had to wait. It was important to not dilute the sex magick. Steph had taught them that. They would need every drop, so to speak.

 

“Asshole.” Shaw gave him a low, pouty growl.

 

“You want this to work, baby?” He finally handed the bag of pastries to Shaw and got the truck going.

 

“I don’t know…” Shaw sighed, fastened his seat belt, eyes facing out the window, watching the Rockies. “I don’t want to lose her. I like Steph.”

 

“I know, baby.” He didn’t want to end their friendship with Steph, either, but the pack was breathing down their necks. They were supposed to be good little wolves and settle down.

 

“If we find her, our mate I mean, it’ll be good, right? We won’t care that we’re losing Steph?”

 

Well, Steph had always made it clear that this was just fun and games, hadn’t she? Three buds hanging out, drinking beer, sharing orgasms? They even watched football together. Besides, she knew what they were, knew they couldn’t mate with someone for life who wasn’t one of them.

 

He smacked Shaw’s shoulder, just a little too hard. “It’ll be cool. We’ll be stupid in love and wanting to make puppies.”

 

Right?

 

Right.

 

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FOUR GI'S & A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

FOUR GI'S AND A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

Warrior's Craft Book Four

Stacey and her four hot male friends are home in Los Angeles on leave from the military. Being off duty doesn't mean they can ignore a case of missing civilians and divers that takes a mystical bent. From curses to sea monsters, it's a mission that takes very special skills. Working with a secret unit of the military, they write their own standard operating procedure for this investigation.

With a little help and a lot of nerve, they find group love and make the California beaches once again safe for everyone.

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Four GI's & A Witch
Cheryl Dragon
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Cheryl Dragon

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Home from her second tour overseas, Lt. Stacey Andrews had enjoyed her leave so far. Hanging out with her family in Los Angeles made it seem real. No more patrols or looking over her shoulder, unless she went into the wrong neighborhood, of course. Home felt safe, but she was still a small single woman a lot of men underestimated.

She parked her SUV and headed for her aunt's spirit shop. She needed to reconnect with her coven. Being both a soldier and Wiccan might sound like an odd combination, but to Stacey, it was all about working for the greater good. Evil had to be contained in whatever way possible.

Chimes jingled overhead as she entered. Lavender incense greeted her, along with the warm colors of autumn filling the small front shop. Crystals, jewelry, candles, and such were sold there to pay the rent. The real magic happened in the back rooms. Wicca training, various lessons, and coven meetings brought people together here. Empowering women in the rough city was Aunt Bitsey's mission.

"Miss me?" Stacey asked.

Bitsey looked up from her display of fairy necklaces. "Blessed be. Don't you move!"

Stacey froze and waited for the inevitable. Burning sage wafted around her as her aunt, clad in a gauzy green dress, muttered cleansing words to release the violence and keep evil away. Finally her aunt set the items aside and hugged Stacey hard.

"I'm fine." Stacey hugged her back. "How's everything here?"

"Oh, you know, always some trouble going on in a big city. Sandra had a vision of you." Bitsey headed to the back room and nodded at a young woman to go watch the front.

"A vision with me involved?" Stacey took a seat in the small room where some of the psychics did readings. Her aunt closed the door so they wouldn't be disturbed.

"Yes. Not about what you were doing while away, but something you needed to know when you came back. This is about your future." Bitsey sat stiffly.

"My love life? I could use one." Stacey grinned. There were men she was interested in, but none of them had made a move. All the men were soldiers who worked together, so things could get complicated if she tried to start something. Not to mention, how could she pick among four great guys?

"Sort of your love life, but it's bigger than that. She sees you surrounded by four men, all attractive and all fighters. The five of you are joined by love and a purpose. She sees you on a mission for us." Bitsey tapped on her tablet and handed it to Stacey.

The news articles were about missing women from the beach. Midnight swims, early morning training for triathlons, and even members of a high school girls' swim team had disappeared. No trace of bodies, the women -- nothing. People searched frantically and rewards had been offered.

"What happened?" Stacey asked.

"The police and Coast Guard investigated. I've seen other military types out there too." Bitsey shook her head. "Something is very wrong, and it's beyond what they can handle."

"You mean it's mystical?" Stacey asked.

"I believe so. We've tried to investigate, but they block our access. You and your friends might be able to help out."

"Do you have any idea what is causing the disappearances? A spell? A curse? Is it a person attacking them?" Stacey had never wanted to mix her military life and her Wiccan one, but people were missing. This time there didn't seem to be a choice in the matter.

"It's an object that triggered it. Something was unearthed that turned some people wrong somehow. We can't get specifics without getting closer, but the missing people are dead. Their energy has been consumed. You must be very careful." Bitsey put her hand on Stacey's.

"I won't be alone. This is an odd thing for the military to handle, though." Stacey knew she'd never approach it alone.

"That's why it needs your touch. Do you know the four men Sandra saw in her vision? She seemed very certain they belonged with you long-term." Bitsey smiled suggestively.

Stacey felt her cheeks grow hot. "I think I know. They're all attractive and good men. They'll want to help with this problem. Maybe we are all supposed to work together long-term?"

"Sandra made it sound very personal. Intimate." Bitsey shrugged. "I don't mind alternative lifestyles, you know that. However, the men seemed to be involved together as well. Sandra was confused, but she trusts the information she gets."

Stacey smiled. Sandra was Bitsey's lover and best friend, another aunt in Stacey's mind. "Sandra is never wrong, is she? I'll go round up the guys and we'll check it out. I'm not sure how far we'll get but we can try."

"Try hard. Be careful. Whatever was unearthed is strong and mystical. It has no say in what it's doing. Make sure to protect yourself and your men as much as possible. Use every bit of energy you have for protection spells before you go near that beach." Bitsey's face went very stern.

"It's okay. We'll handle it. Don't let it make you negative now. We might need your help later. If you find anything that'll help, let me know." Stacey kissed her aunt on the cheek.

Bitsey nodded. "I need that sage and some meditation."

"I'll stay in touch. If I get a picture of what it is, I'll send it to you. Maybe the coven can help with research and ways to fight it? You'll be a lot more on top of mystical things than a group of soldiers." Stacey headed out and sat in her car for a few minutes.

Four men. She knew exactly who they were. Their sexual energies were often directed at her. She felt them at night, dreaming about her as she dreamt of them. Stacey's gifts were connected to energy and sensing it was second nature. It'd saved her life and others overseas. Now the beaches of her hometown needed protection.

It all fit with Sandra's vision. The men were connected as well. She also felt their sexual energy charged in other directions. Moe Finnegan and Tommy Cassidy were the two obvious ones. The two hunks were friends with benefits... especially off duty. Both insisted it wasn't romantic, but until Don't Ask Don't Tell was reversed, they had never admitted doing anything at all.

Stacey knew better. They both wanted women and each other. Neither knew how to talk about their bisexuality or feelings. They were men, after all. Still, they'd be the easy ones to lure into helping her and something more personal. She loved them both, but if they couldn't figure out a way to have a healthy relationship, she wondered if they'd be screwing around in the old soldiers' home and insisting they were just friends. It was up to her to nudge them out of their rut.

Eddie and Will would be much harder to manage. As she drove through the familiar streets of L.A., she was grateful they all lived so close. It would make meetings and conversations easier. Will first. Eddie would shut down if she brought up a subject he didn't want to deal with. That man was all action, strong and silent. The women flocked to him, so if he'd ever been with a man, it was on the way down low. Will was the most sensitive man of the four. Stacey needed an ally to help her convince and seduce the others.

Shaking off the sexual desire, she knew it'd happen. Aunt Sandra was never wrong. If she doubted her vision at all, Sandra kept it to herself and went deeper into her meditations for clarification. If she spoke of it, Sandra was sure. Even if it wasn't logical or obvious, Sandra felt it was right deep in her soul. Stacey wouldn't mind loving that many men, but it wasn't exactly normal -- even in L.A.!

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DOING THE BABA YAGA by Sam Cheever

DOING THE BABA YAGA by Sam Cheever

A thousand years without love can make a witch do the strangest things!

Elan Gibbs needs to save the woman he loves from servitude to a witch named Baba Yaga. Lisbeth needs to prove that Elan Gibbs loves her before she'll give her heart away to him. But a price has to be paid for their needs. And it seems that Elan will be the one to pay it.

Can his love for Lisbeth withstand the payment? Or will he fall under the spell of a sexy witch, who only wants true love to warm her endless life?

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“You have only a hundred years left.”

Baba Yaga lifted her gaze to the god Perun, who sat in her favorite chair in front of the window, his fat belly straining the golden belt at his thick waist. “I don’t even care,” she told him.

Perun frowned, shocked by her response. “How can you not care, Baba? You will die soon if you do not stop offering boons to these human cattle.”

She turned away, staring through the window. The trees beyond the sparkling glass were green, vibrant with life, and birds sang high in their branches. “I hunger for love.” The admission was like bile in her throat, burning her with its truth.

The god scoffed. “You must come to Pirin. I will throw a party under the sacred tree for you. You can mate with one of my princes and live forever among the trees.”

Baba Yaga closed her eyes, despair sliding through her. “I wish to find true love, not a pale mating based on expediency.”

“You reach for the stars when a bright light will serve, Baba.” Perun stood, striding toward her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Come. It saddens me to see you thusly. Let us return to Pirin and I will make you smile.”

Baba shook her head. “If I cannot find true love I would rather die.”

Perun sighed. “Very well. I wish you well on your search. Though I hold out little hope for your success. What mortal man would wish to tie himself to one such as you?”

With his well meant but cruel words, the Slavic god speared Baba Yaga through the heart, deepening her despair to a nearly incapacitating state. “I will find my true love, God of War. Do not doubt me,” she murmured.

As Perun transformed into the Eagle and flew from Baba’s lonely cabin in the woods, she sighed, praying her words would not be sprayed like acid back in her face.

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HIGHLAND JACK by LaVerne Thompson

HIGHLAND JACK by LaVerne Thompson

 

After 500 years Laird Jack Buchannan thought it was time to take a companion to walk with him through eternity. And since this was the modern age he'd try finding true love through a reality television show. But what he found instead was a witch who cast a spell on him.

Serissa Helstrom was a white witch who on a lark decided to join a friend on a reality television show. Not for one second did she take it seriously, until she found herself falling for a vampire.

Or was he just messing with her mind?
 

 

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There were several squeals of excitement, even Jil turned to look at her and grinned. All the women began fluffing or smoothing their hair and adjusting their clothes. Kevin left the plane, but the assistant stayed and everyone rushed to peek through one of the windows for a first glimpse of Jack as he got out of the Range Rover. There was more than one gasp as over six foot of prime cut stepped out of the limo and planted booted feet on the tarmac.

“Ohmygod!”

Serissa wasn’t sure who said that but she couldn’t agree more. She’d remained in her window seat and the cool air from the vent blew right on her, but her skin felt heated and flushed from just the sight of him. For the last couple of months this entire thing had all been fun and games. A means to get her out of the slump she seemed to be in, just another lark she embarked on with her best friend Jil. After seeing Jack, that changed. Mine! The word rose up from the depths of her soul and shook her to her core. She shuddered at its strength and glanced up at the women leaning over to look out the windows. They all wore the same shell-shocked expression, Serissa was sure she did too. Jack packed a punch.

Maybe that’s all there was to it, he had some serious pheromones going, and she wasn’t immune, she was after all only twenty-seven a youngling. Some witches lived well into their hundreds. The women lined up again and after a lot of giggling and posturing one by one they left the plane. She and Jil were the last ones, they hugged and wished each other luck. By the time her turn came around her mind still churned in confusion from her strong attraction to the man. The closer she got to him the stronger the emotion. She barely heard what he’d said to her because she’d realized why they’d all had such a strong physical reaction to him. Her especially. Vampire.

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FOUR BIKERS & A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

FOUR BIKERS & A WITCH by Cheryl Dragon

Warrior's Craft Book Three

Valerie grew up in the Vegas biker culture, seeing the tempting and dark side. Now a nurse, she can't escape her past. Axle and Rebel Herth were kicked out of the biker gang as teens and, along with their boyfriends, run a motorcycle shop. They've wanted Val for years, but she won't date anyone in the biker world.

They need her witch talents to help them fight the zombies that are plaguing Vegas. Val's best with potions but the sex spell intrigues her. She learns the ropes of fighting zombies, and rides motorcycles like a pro as her potion brews, but can she let her sexual guard down with the guys?
Rough sex and dirty talk with four men who can easily overpower her is a huge turn on! How far will she go now that she's hooked on these bikers fighting for good?

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Four Bikers & A Witch
Cheryl Dragon
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Cheryl Dragon

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Valerie Berman parked her scarlet red Harley Super Glide behind Herth's Repair Shop. Grabbing her bag from the bitch seat, she once again tried to change her automatic thinking. So much of the biker culture put women second or third after their bike... yet she couldn't escape it.  Going in the back door, she found her parents in the inventory area. As usual, Dad was bleeding. Looking at him with his long gray hair and tattoos, he was an old biker and Mom, with her ink and tight clothes, a biker's old lady. Valerie rolled her eyes. She should be rebelling. Of course, with her parents, having a job and being responsible was a rebellion.  "Seriously, you need to retire from this crap." Val opened her bag and cleaned the cut on his arm.  "Val, your father was defending me. Some drunken ass grabbed my boobs." Mom smiled.  Shaking her head, Val pressed gauze to the wound so it'd stop bleeding. Mom loved the attention and it invited danger. Some of the bikers shared women. Female groupies were one thing, but wives? Some men didn't care. The wrong signals could cause a major fight. At least Dad had protected her. A girl growing up in a biker gang was vulnerable, but she'd made it out safely.  "Is this the only injury?" Val asked.  Dad nodded. "A few bruises, but yeah. My bike is messed up but the boys will fix it."  Axle Herth walked up from the direction of the repair room. "Everything okay?"  Val ignored the shot of attraction she felt whenever one of the Herth brothers came around. They'd grown up in the same gang until they were kicked out as teens. They hadn't gone far.  She shook her head. "He should get stitches."  "You do it." Mom waved it off.  "I'm a nurse, not a doctor." Working in the ER gave Val a sense of satisfaction and adrenaline rushes. She might've gone on for more education, but she didn't want that much in student loans.  "Just patch me up." Dad never minded an ugly scar.  Val dug through her bag of medical necessities. The bikers who knew her never went to the doctor. They only landed in the ER if they were scooped up by an ambulance, or Val couldn't patch them up. This was her unofficial office.  You never really left the biker world. Val would rather have them owe her favors than the other way around.  "Mom, hold these. Axle, I need you to help." Val could've done it herself. Still, it'd be cleaner with more hands. Plus the smell of grease and a hot man made the trip worth it. Axle pinched the skin tight as Val guided his rough hands. She added as many sterile strips as she could to hold the skin together. Then she covered the whole thing with a bandage. "I'll come by next week and change the strips. Don't get it wet."  "He's got to shower." Mom scrunched her nose.  "Put plastic over it, like a new tattoo." Val shrugged and closed her bag. "Don't drink either. If you need something for pain, take a pill."  "Got it." Dad's response to anything, which meant he understood. That didn't mean he'd actually listen.  "I'm serious. Take it easy too. How did you get cut and crash your bike defending Mom? Sounds like a bar fight." Val wasn't sure she wanted to know.  "Jousting," Axle said.  "Motorcycle jousting? Men." She tried not to stare at Axle's big muscles, teasing her from under the Herth's Repair Shop t-shirt. His black hair was cropped short, but those brown eyes of his had depth she'd always wanted to unlock.  She'd love to explore both of the Herth brothers. Rebel was only a year younger and looked very similar to Axle. However, his eyes were an icy blue. Now both had boyfriends who worked at the shop with them. If they weren't bikers and gay, she'd make a move. They'd been her adolescent crush. Liking bad boys had to be in her DNA.  Mom fussed over Dad, pressing her curves, stuffed into a leather skirt and halter top, to his side. At twenty-six, Val could wear that and look good, if a bit slutty. Sighing, Val knew her mom looked good for nearly fifty, except for the sun damaged skin. Dad still thought she was the hottest piece of ass on the planet.  "Men." Mom hugged her man. "No reason you don't have one, Valerie Trixie Berman. You've got my gorgeous red hair and curves. A little sun and those green eyes would pop."  "I just burn and freckle. I got Grandma's skin." She avoided Axle's eyes.  "Four hot men right here. They're not in a gang but they fix bikes. It's something." Mom gestured to Axle.  "Let's go. We'll get a loaner bike from Rebel." Dad steered Mom to the front. He knew why Axle was kicked out of the gang. A lot of things were kept secret, men from women and so on. Val had found out from the gang leader's wife only because Axle and Rebel had been getting some lessons from her as well.  Mom frowned at Val. "You couldn't dress nice, at least? You look like you're an old lady in that potato sack."  "They're scrubs, Mom. I came from work." They'd had that conversation more times than Val could count. Mom thought Val could wear short shorts and tight tank tops to work.  Once her parents were gone, Val turned to Axle. "I'm so sorry about them. They're nuts."  "Don't apologize. We deal with serious bikers all the time." Axle put a hand on her back.  Val shivered. She tried not to think about Axle naked. "Thanks for keeping them out of trouble. I should go home. Let you guys get back to business."  "Actually, would you hang out a while? We need a favor. We'll buy you dinner. We're ordering Chinese." Axle smiled.  "Okay, sure." Val shrugged.  Smoothing her hair as she walked into the repair shop, she looked at all four very attractive guys. Val knew this wasn't about motorcycles. Axle and Rebel were clearly brothers and sexy as hell. Sebastian was Axle's guy, seriously into vintage bikes. His lean build and dirty blond hair made him stand out. The quietest of the group, he just nodded to her with a big smile.  Luke was the opposite of Sebastian. Brown hair and piercing green eyes, he'd grown up in another biker gang. The guy had a huge ego and no shame. His look slanted to a bit more brutish than handsome. His confidence enhanced it.  "What do you want?" Rebel waved the menu.  "Orange chicken." Val sat on a stool next to Sebastian around an empty repair table. Rebel sent the order on his phone and nodded. "It'll be here soon. Sorry about your dad."  Val shrugged. "Idiots jousting on motorcycles. He's not a kid anymore."  "Well, we've got experience fighting on bikes. Sometimes it's necessary." Luke tossed a shirt and shorts on the table.  "What's that?" she asked.  "Just in case you want to change into something less clinical. The meeting could take a little time." Rebel nudged the clothes closer to Val. "If you don't like those, grab anything off the racks you want. The scrubs look hot."  "Vegas is hot. The scrubs keep blood and other fluids off me. The fun of being an ER nurse." She grabbed the clothes and went to the ladies room. The shirt was the right size, even though she would have grabbed a size bigger to hide her cleavage. The shorts were denim and made her feel terribly on display. Her long legs were a feature other women envied. Scrubs hid everything well.  Pulling her hair out of the clip that was part of her work wardrobe, she combed her fingers through it to cool off. The curls looped down to her mid-back. Glancing in the mirror, it looked like she was primping to get their attention. Mom would absolutely approve. Tugging her hair into a ponytail, she managed to clip it that way. She looked less severe but not flirty. Her boring old clogs would kill any sexy ideas.  Going back to the guys, she felt something more in their glances. Even out of her heavier clothes, she felt flushed. The smell of food drew her near. "That was super fast."  "You service bikers, you get good service." Rebel smiled and handed her the orange chicken.  "Egg roll?" Axle offered.  "Thanks. So what is all this about? More vampire problems?" She opened her chopsticks. Luke set a diet soda in front of her and Val smiled. It'd been a while since Vegas had had a paranormal invasion.  "No. Something new. These things we can't really handle on our own," Sebastian said.  Val had trouble believing that. Sebastian was good at the pagan stuff. Val, Axle and Rebel had been intrigued by the private classes in Wiccan religion the biker leader's wife had taught them as kids. Back then, they'd had no idea why she'd chosen them. Val kept in touch with her, and now understood it was that woman's way of rebelling. She embraced her feminine powers, and Val tried to follow that path.  Mom and Dad didn't need to know their daughter was a respected witch in the local Wiccan coven. The guys couldn't be seen there and keep their clients. She knew they'd found some online coven. They rarely included her because what they did was dangerous. When the vamps had moved into Vegas, the guys had gone on the attack. They hadn't needed her then. Was this a set up?  "So what can't you guys handle?" she asked.

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