by Liz Schulte
“There’s one problem with your story of immortal biology,” Gus said.
“What’s that?” Forrest asked.
“Greek gods and goddesses are legendary for their all-too-human emotions. Jealousy, rage, lust, vengeance,” Gus said.
“That’s right,” I groaned. “And they don’t care much about collateral damage. Great. You’ve pissed off a Greek goddess who will probably kill us to get to you.”
“Nonsense. She’s only here because she wants her kid back. That’s all. This is all on him,” Forrest said, pointing at Gus. “Not me.”
“Let’s just see about that,” I reached my hand into Gus’s pocket, snagged the key to the cage, and ran before Gus could stop me.
I cut the containment circle Gus had set up around the cage and unlocked the cage door.
“Thanks, luv. I knew you’d come through for me,” Eros said and bowed. “You are a goddess among women.” He took a running start and jumped, vanishing into nothingness as he went on his lightspeed way. I heard a giggle and a white feather floated down and landed in my hands.
“I always keep my promises,” Eros’s whisper reached my ears, followed by another giggle and he was gone. In an instant, his quiver of arrows, his bow and his torch all vanished along with him.
I stuck the feather in my back pocket and hoped for the best.
“It’s not working,” Gus called.
He was right. The ruckus outside wasn’t vanishing. If anything, it was getting louder. The ground started shaking and small items fell off shelves, crashing to the ground.
I grabbed Forrest’s flowers and his box of candy from the living room and I shoved them into his hands.
“Goddess or not, you pissed off a woman you were dating in a really nasty, underhanded, ass-hat kind of way. You need to make it right. You need to go out there and you need to apologize like the honey-tongued Devil we know you are.”
“It’s for your own good. Consider it a moment of personal growth,” Gus agreed.
“And maybe, just maybe, you’ll get your boner back in the process,” I said.
I opened the back door and Gus shoved Forrest outside. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Then we turned off the lights in the cottage, to cut down on the glare, and raced back to the windows to watch the show.
Forrest expanded to his full Devil size and form. He was a huge, magnificent horned beast who walked upright. He strode out and met the giant water lady in the middle of our yard. Her watery form was bioluminescent and beautiful, glowing like starlight in the darkness of the night. Forrest moved like a shadow, his form only visible in the reflection of her light.
“Too bad we can’t hear what’s going on,” I said.
“You want me to chance opening the window?” Gus asked.
“Not really,” I said. “Let’s not interrupt them.”
Forrest went down on one knee in front of her, and the lights that sparkled through her form flashed and rapidly changed colors.
“That must be where Eros gets his quick-change faces from,” I muttered. “Everything’s hereditary.”
Forrest held the bouquet of exotic wildflowers up to her. They were ten times larger than they had been in the house and they glowed as she accepted them. Then, he handed her the box of candy, which had also expanded. We heard a sound like a cross between a waterfall and someone hitting a fork against crystal goblets.
“Is that a good sound? Do you think she’s laughing?” I asked Gus.
“I hope so,” he said.
Forrest bent forward and kissed her hand, then he stood up on his hooves, his horns glistening in her reflected light, and he embraced her. She stiffened for a moment, before she embraced him back, the starry water softening and curving, as the two of them merged into each other.
There was a flash of lightning and I could see a smile on Forrest’s face.
“Looks like he’s got his boner back,” Gus said.
Forrest gave us a thumbs-up and they vanished.
After a moment of utter stillness, the night returned to normal.
“Happy Valentine’s day,” I said to the space where Forrest had been. “Try not to be an ass.”
* * *
Gus and I returned to the living room.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m beat,” I said.
“Not me. I’m just getting started. I have a Lupercalia to go to.” He checked the clock on the mantlepiece. “Great. Just enough time to get changed before the boys arrive.”
Gus ran up the stairs as I flopped down on the couch.
It felt like I had only closed my eyes for a few seconds when the doorbell rang.
“Gus!” I hollered. “Your boys are here.”
But there was no answer. He was probably in the shower or drying his hair. I dragged myself over to the door and opened it, yawning.
To my surprise, Paul stood on the other side of the door, with a huge bouquet of flowers and the Dobies.
“My babies!” I said, and knelt down to hug Aramis and Apollo. They were all clean and shiny and stink-free. Once they finished dancing around me, they raced into the cottage and made a bee-line for their beds.
I stood up and faced Paul.
He was still clutching his bouquet.
“Are those for me or for Gus?” I asked.
He turned beet red. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve never…nothing like that has ever…I would never…These are for you,” he said, shoving the flowers at me.
I took them and sniffed the heady aroma of the roses.
“I know,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes, Cupid’s arrows go a little haywire.”
“When most people say something like that, I would take it as metaphorical. But when it comes from you, and it happened in this cottage…”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I said.
As I went to close the door, he saw the cage. “What in the world is that for?”
“You don’t want to know that, either. Thanks for the roses. Maybe we can try that non-date again next week.”
And with that, I closed the door on him.
As I turned, the feather from my back pocket floated to the ground.
I bent down and picked it up. “And just what am I supposed to do with you?”
Aunt Tillie’s eyelights came on in the skull. “What do you desire?”
I snorted. “I desire…I desire to have you out of the skull. I desire an easy labor, I desire a true love, I desire fame and fort—”
But as I was speaking, there was a puff of light and Aunt Tillie stood before me, free of the skull she had been trapped in.
“Tsk, tsk,” she said, shaking her head. “Only one desire per feather. Someone should have told you.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s what Cupid’s feather does? Manifest a desire?”
“And you wasted it on Tillie?” Gus said, walking in, dressed in an imitation wolf-skin loin cloth and handmade, soft leather boots.
I shrugged. “To be fair, we did owe her.” I said. “After all, it was your boyfriend who stuck her in the skull.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Gus corrected. “He’s hooking up with a chick tonight.”
“I believe that would be a Goddess,” Aunt Tillie corrected.
“Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to,” Gus shrugged.
The doorbell rang again and the Dobes started barking.
Gus looked out the window. “There’s my boys. And they brought the dolly.”
“Have fun,” I said. “You’d better wear something over that get-up, before you freeze your cojones off.”
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
I put on my parka, slipped into my snow boots and slid out the back door, while Gus was busy moving his cage.
* * *
I tromped through the snow, down to the lake. I stood at the shore for I don’t know how long, just watching the water. It was still bioluminescent. It looked like the stars had come down to earth and were dan
cing in the lake.
Valentine’s Day. A day of love and lust and new beginnings. And here I was, standing on what felt like the edge of the universe, feeling the potential of all that love and the energy of new beginnings, and yet, love was something that continued to elude me in my life.
I don’t know what possessed me, but I took the feather out of my pocket, kissed it, and floated it out over the water. “To love,” I whispered, as I watched the currents carry it away. “To love, to life, to new beginnings.”
The baby stretched inside me and I put my hand on my belly. New beginnings would be here soon enough.
As I was about to turn and walk back to the cottage, I felt strong hands encircle my waist. “To new beginnings,” a male voice said.
“Paul?” I turned around to face him.
“Let’s not wait for next week,” he said. “I was halfway home, when I suddenly realized…this is our day. This is a day we should be together. This is a day for us to start over.”
He bent down and kissed me, deep and long until I could barely breathe and my insides felt like a giant sparkler.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, kissing me again and again, until my knees were about to buckle.
He took my hand and led me towards his SUV.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He turned a smoldering gaze on me. “Someplace where we can be alone and make up for lost time. With none of the supernatural weirdness of your cottage to get in the way.”
He kissed me again. I’d like to say we made it all the way back to his place. And we did…eventually. After we finished steaming up the windows of his SUV.
* * *
“Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.” —e.e. cummings
“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” —Margaret Mitchell
About the Author
Christiana Miller is a novelist, screenwriter and mom who's led an unusual life. In addition to writing for General Hospital: Night Shift and General Hospital, she's had her DNA shot into space (where she's currently cohabiting in a drawer with Stephen Colbert and Stephen Hawking), she's been serenaded by Klingons, and she's been the voices of all the female warriors in Mortal Kombat II and III. If her life was a TV show, it would be a wacky dramedy filled with eccentric characters who get themselves into bizarre situations. She enjoys hanging out with her kids and writing stories with a supernatural twist.
To be notified of upcoming releases, click on the following link:
Email Me Future Release Dates
You can stay in touch with the author at:
@writechristiana
ChristianaMiller.author
christianamiller.com
[email protected]
Also by Christiana Miller
Additional stories with these characters include (in order):
The Toadwitch Mysteries
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie She’s Dead
Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie We’re In Trouble!
Kidnapping Cupid
A Tale of Three Witches
Speed-Dating the Christmas Demon
Stand-Alone Books
The Thief Who Stole Midnight
Anthologies
Tombstones and Tiaras
Love and Other Distractions
Naughty or Nice
Every Witch Way But Wicked
For Children
Charona the Dragon
(written by A.R. Miller, edited by Christiana Miller)
Non-Fiction Book
Self-Publishing On A Shoestring:
Insanely Helpful Links for Indie Authors
FOREVER VALENTINE
A Halloween LaVeau short story
Rose Pressey
Forever Valentine
by Rose Pressey
Copyright © 2016 Rose Pressey
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Summary
Badly-spelled love cookies at a Valentine’s Day Dance spells disaster for Halloween LaVeau. Will she be able to reverse the spell in time?
Chapter One
LaVeau Manor had an eerie vibe. The house was old and large. No matter which room I entered it always seemed as if someone was watching. The structure came alive the most at night. However, tonight was different… love was in the air. I’d invited the local coven members to the manor for a Valentine’s Day dance. The large parlor was decorated with red and white balloons, red paper heart banners draped across the entrances and fireplace, and pink and red hearts dangled from the ceiling. It had taken forever to climb that giant ladder to hang those.
As I gazed around the room I smiled, happy with the turnout. Almost every coven member was in attendance. Too bad my best friend Annabelle Preston couldn’t be here. She had a hot date with a mystery man. I hoped they stopped by later. I’d gotten into the Valentine spirit by wearing a red dress with white hearts dotted along the fabric. My blonde hair fell in waves to my shoulders for what I hoped was a romantic look.
The table with the punch bowl was set up across the room. Nicolas Marcos and Liam Rankin stood at the end of it as if they were trying to hide. They looked handsome in their black suits. With their dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, and chiseled features it was obvious they were brothers. Nicolas and I had been dating for a while, but it was hard not to look at Liam and swoon.
They must have sensed me staring because they turned their attention to me. Nicolas smiled and waved. It was as if an electric charge had a hold on me every time our eyes met. Liam winked. I was lucky to have them in my life. We’d been through a lot lately. Nicolas had recently been named leader of the Enchantment Pointe Coven. That was where we lived. Liam was the leader of the New Orleans Coven. Oh yeah, one other little detail… My name is Halloween LaVeau and I’m the leader of the Underworld. I’d kind of stumbled into that position, but more about that later.
Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my daydream. Maybe it wasn’t so much of a daydream, but more like a trance brought on by the brothers’ good looks. Lucy Hamlin spun me around and was now standing in front of me. Lucy was petite. Even shorter than me by a couple inches. Her dark hair was up in a twist with tiny tendrils falling against her heart-shaped face. She wore black pants and a red sweater with high heels the same shade of crimson. Lucy lived just down the street. At forty something she was about ten years older than me.
“Halloween, something terrible has happened,” she said breathlessly.
No. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. Too many terrible things had happened lately. The way Lucy’s big cinnamon colored eyes bugged out and her bright red lipstick-covered mouth twisted into a grimace I knew I had a real problem on my hands. A panicked witch was never a good thing.
I grabbed her arms. “Calm down, Lucy, what’s the problem?”
“It’s the cookies.” She stared at me without as much as a blink.
I quirked an eyebrow. “No one likes the cookies you brought?”
She shook her head. “It’s much worse than that.”
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know. Unfortunately, as the leader I had to know.
“You have to tell me, Lucy.”
She chuckled nervously. “Well, I thought it would be fun to do a spell with the cookies. A love spell of sorts.”
My stomach turned. “Lucy, I specifically said no spells in the food or drinks. This can have a bad outcome.”
“Obviously,” she said under her breath.
I
looked around the room and noticed it didn’t look romantic or festive. Couples weren’t dancing to the carefully selected love-themed soundtrack I’d selected. They really weren’t talking either. Now that I truly paid attention, I realized the music was the only noise in the room. Heaviness hung over the parlor like a thick wool blanket. This was the exact opposite of how I had wanted things to turn out tonight. And I’d thought love was in the air. Once again, I was wrong. This was far from love. It looked more like hostility and anger.
“How did you mess up the spell?” I asked.
Maybe if I knew how she did this I’d know how to fix it. I thought Lucy had perfected her witchcraft skills years ago. A young couple standing in the corner of the room looked as if they were already fighting.
She brushed the hair off her cheek. “I don’t know how I messed it up. I’ve always been good with my spells.”
That was true. I’d never known Lucy to cast a bad spell. Me on the other hand… that was a different story. I’d been so bad at witchcraft that I’d messed up the spells of other witches for miles around. However, that was all behind me now. Ever since I’d found the spell book my great aunt Maddy had left me things had changed. The book had been included with the home. It was what had given me the leader of the Underworld status.
“Okay, just take a deep breath. We a can figure this out,” I said.
Being the leader meant I had to remain calm. Or at least it needed to appear that I had things under control. Right now, I felt anything but in control. Tension hung in the air. Maybe a panic attack was coming. My chest felt tight and my stomach turned. It seemed as if things were only getting worse. How long would this messed-up spell last?
“Everyone must have really loved those cookies,” I said.
