The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2

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The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 Page 23

by Jodi Redford


  She stumbled from the vehicle and staggered across the steaming asphalt. Instead of heading toward the light station, she staggered toward the dunes in the distance. As she stared at the whitecaps cresting on the horizon, she started to get a sinking feeling where she was headed.

  Pleasenopleasenopleaseno.

  The puppeteer controlling her body refused to listen to her desperate pleas. She tumbled through the sand, the waves growing deafening in her ears.

  Other than that dip in Seven’s fiery lake, she hadn’t physically stepped foot in any body of water bigger than a bathtub in almost twenty-two years. As she neared the rolling tide, the horrible memory of her parents sinking beneath the waves crashed into her.

  Terror and despair clawed within her all over again. Oh God, no.

  Warning bells screamed in her head, but her legs continued moving, increasing their pace. Before she knew it, water crashed over her, dragging her under. She tried to kick against the currents, but the tow was too strong.

  Something curled around her ankles and gave a vicious tug. Within the murky depths, red demonic eyes appeared. “I know what you are.” The sibilant voice snaked into the cortex of her brain.

  She screamed, right before the world went dark.

  About the Author

  At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

  She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.

  When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.

  Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.

  She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at [email protected] and visit her online at www.jodiredford.com.

  Look for these titles by Jodi Redford

  Now Available:

  Taking Liberty

  Light My Fire

  Vanessa Unveiled

  That Old Black Magic

  That Voodoo You Do

  The Seven Year Witch

  Thieves of Aurion

  Lover Enslaved

  Resisting two magical mischief makers definitely wasn’t in the job description.

  Vanessa Unveiled

  © 2011 Jodi Redford

  Vanessa Darby, a bounty hunter and tracker for the Veil Alliance League, figures things can’t get any crappier than her car breaking down on a deserted highway. Until the two dimension-hopping renegades she’s been assigned to capture lure her to their magical love nest in the woods and entangle her in a web of seduction.

  How the hell is she supposed to resist a pair of gorgeous male pookas who possess a wicked talent for bringing the sexy?

  Rand and Braeden have searched more than three centuries for their one true bond mate. Now that Vanessa’s been dropped into their arms, they have no intention of giving her up. Even if it means agreeing to her terms: If they can’t persuade her within forty-eight hours that the three of them belong together, they’ll give themselves over to the authorities. But convincing a woman who doesn’t believe in love, or the concept of forever, is no easy feat. Particularly with one doozy of a dirty secret from their past waiting to trip them up.

  Warning: Two hotter-than-should-be-legal pookas sexin’ it up with each other and the stubborn woman they love. One magical hotel in the woods that isn’t exactly what it seems. And a unicorn who will forever tarnish the image of the species.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Vanessa Unveiled:

  She stepped back into the bedroom just as Rand was shrugging from his shirt. Her breath lodged in her throat. All annoyances aside, he was simply beautiful to behold. His sculpted shoulders were powerful, delineated with sleek muscle tone. A series of intricate symbols inked the right side of his breastbone, drawing attention to his firm pectorals. Like Braeden, his torso was hairless except for the sprinkling of dark hair that traversed his chiseled abs and disappeared beneath the waistband of his charcoal trousers.

  He turned toward her, his well-defined stomach muscles flexing. “Is the bath to your liking?”

  Despite her best intentions, she couldn’t stop ogling his chest. She imagined licking over those delicious curves and hollows. Imagined sucking the hard nubs of his masculine nipples against the roof of her mouth. An intense throb leapt in her clit. She swallowed, corking her whimper. “Y-yes. It’s fine.”

  Disappointment shadowed his expression. For some weird reason, guilt over her less than gushing response settled in the pit of her belly. “No, that’s not true.”

  Rand’s face fell another fraction. “You don’t like it?”

  “Actually, it’s amazing.” She sighed. “I could easily spend the next forty-eight hours just soaking in that pool.”

  His eyes darkened. “A delightful way to pass the time. Braeden and I could join you. Soap you from head to foot, paying thorough attention to every inch of you in between.”

  She visualized their hands stroking her everywhere, wet, soapy palms gliding over her breasts and pussy. Her nipples beaded. Rand licked his lips and she realized he could easily see her body’s reaction through the thin knit of her turtleneck. He stepped toward her and she backed up, the backs of her knees hitting the ottoman. “I—I think maybe we’d better go join Braeden before he wonders what happened to us.”

  Rand continued walking toward her, his gait confident and predatory. “He’s not wondering. He knows exactly what’s going on in here.”

  “Nothing is going on in here.” She prayed her declaration didn’t sound as weak as it felt.

  “You’re wrong, sweetest. I’m seducing you.”

  She gulped. “Well, it’s not working.”

  He stopped directly in front of her, so close it was a miracle she didn’t suffer a third-degree burn from the intense heat radiating from his bare chest. The earthy scent of forest and the underlying, potent musk of aroused male drifted from his skin, playing havoc with her hormones. She wanted to bury her nose in all that warm flesh until she was lightheaded and giddy. And then she’d lick and nibble him everywhere.

  Rand’s fingers curled around her chin, his thumb brushing the dip beneath her bottom lip. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care what you—” The remainder of her denial fell victim to the lush pressure of Rand’s mouth against hers. Every energy storehouse in her body began lighting up like a bank of slot machines that just hit payload. His lips coaxed hers open with more ease than she cared to analyze and his tongue met hers in a slick glide. Her hands braced against his chest—purely to keep from crumpling in an undignified heap, of course—and Rand’s rumbling groan vibrated beneath her fingertips and inside her mouth. He tugged her closer, one palm moving to the nape of her neck and the other low on her tailbone. Her breasts pillowed against him, and the insistent bulge of his erection nudged just above her pubic bone. The knowledge that all that separated her from his cock were a pair of zippers and some flimsy fabric nearly had her panting.

  Rand’s tongue stole another slick caress before he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth. His animalistic growl brought a new gush of wetness between her thighs. “You can’t lie to yourself, Nessie. You belong with us.”

  His arrogant assertion acted like a cold dash of water on her desire. She shoved away from Rand and glared up at his passion-flushed features. “I belong to no one. And I told you not to call me by that ridiculous name.”

  “You’re the most stubborn twit I’ve ever known.” Tunneling his hands through his dark hair, he granted her a scowl. “You need a good, long fucking, you know that? Maybe it’d manage to dilute some of that vinegar in your attitude.”

  She bared her teeth. “My attitude is fine. You’re just p
issed because I’m not falling at your feet and begging you to rut away at me. Sucks to realize you’re not so irresistible, doesn’t it?”

  And with that big fat lie hanging between them, she stalked from the room.

  He was going to make her eat her words. Amongst other things.

  Smothering his snarl, Rand dropped onto the cushion beside Braeden.

  “Went that good, huh?”

  Slashing his gaze sideways, he met Braeden’s sympathetic look. “Humans are exasperating creatures, but that woman takes it to a whole new level.”

  “Yet you want her with every breath inside you.” Braeden chuckled in response to Rand’s glower. “I know because I’m suffering the same affliction. She’s like a decadent treat I’ve waited my entire life to unwrap, and the continued wait is damn near killing me.”

  Braeden’s choice of words stirred a gloomy brew of worry within Rand. He’d known all along the risk they took pursuing Vanessa. Hell, the delicate nature of their predicament was the only thing that’d kept him from staking a claim on her the first time he’d spotted her five months ago, on that fortuitous and fated day he’d noticed her outside the Veil Alliance’s detainment center. But he didn’t have only himself to consider. Would his heart be able to take the loss of Braeden if Vanessa rejected their bond?

  For that matter, would his heart be able to take the loss of Vanessa?

  Apparently reading his morose thoughts, Braeden cupped Rand’s cheek. “We promised each other no regrets over doing this.”

  “I know. I just—”

  Braeden’s mouth stopped any further protest. He licked the seam of Rand’s lips, his groan husky. “I can taste her on you.”

  A fierce throbbing coursed through Rand’s cock. Braeden’s innocent pronouncement prodded more wicked fantasies of delving deep inside Vanessa’s dripping slit. He’d pull out slowly and offer his cock to Braeden for a lingering taste before plunging to the hilt in her pussy again and again. Until she was shaking and coming, his name a constant scream upon her lips.

  A nip along the underside of his stubbled jaw brought him crashing back to the present. Braeden’s hand trailed low on Rand’s abdomen. “Your skin is on fire. You need sex. Bad.”

  Braeden was right. The ferocious demand boiling inside him wouldn’t be appeased by anything less. He clamped a hand on the back of Braeden’s neck, dragging him up for a lush, openmouthed kiss. Their tongues tangled and sparred, amping his insistent desire to full blast. “Take off your pants.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Yes. Now.” Rand hissed the command through clenched teeth.

  Braeden’s mouth curved in mischief before descending over Rand’s stomach. “Patience is a virtue.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “No, fuck me.”

  “My thoughts exactly, you idiot.”

  “All in good time.”

  Rand growled low in his throat. “Tease.”

  Braeden gripped Rand’s zipper, tugging it down. His cock sprang free and Braeden’s laugh caressed over the taut, swollen head before his mouth followed suit. The suction was perfect and sublime. He rocked his hips, his hand riding the back of Braeden’s head. A faint rustling noise slipped past the edges of his awareness. Lifting his focus from his lover’s bobbing motions, he locked stares with Vanessa. Her pupils were huge and dark, her nipples straining against her top. His cock pulsed, swelling inside Braeden’s mouth, earning an appreciative moan from his lover.

  “I—I’m sorry. Didn’t realize…” Her hard swallow echoing in the room, Vanessa started to turn tail and run.

  “Stay.”

  Her foot hovering in mid-spin, she gaped at Rand. “What?”

  “Watch. You know you want to.”

  Her cheeks grew redder than the anthurium blooms behind her. “That’s ridiculous. I have no interest in—” She broke off when Braeden reached inside Rand’s pants and played with his balls.

  She was going nowhere.

  Some secrets are dangerous. This Secret is deadly.

  Something Secret This Way Comes

  © 2011 Sierra Dean

  Secret McQueen, Book 1

  For Secret McQueen, her life feels like the punch line for a terrible joke. Abandoned at birth by her werewolf mother, hired as a teen by the vampire council of New York City to kill rogues, Secret is a part of both worlds, but belongs to neither. At twenty-two, she has carved out as close to a normal life as a bounty hunter can.

  When an enemy from her past returns with her death on his mind, she is forced to call on every ounce of her mixed heritage to save herself—and everyone else in the city she calls home. As if the fate of the world wasn’t enough to deal with, there’s Lucas Rain, King of the East Coast werewolves, who seems to believe he and Secret are fated to be together. Too bad Secret also feels a connection with Desmond, Lucas’s second-in-command…

  Warning: This book contains a sarcastic, kick-ass bounty hunter; a metaphysical love triangle with two sexy werewolves; a demanding vampire council; and a spicy seasoning of sex and violence.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Something Secret This Way Comes:

  “I really need to shower,” I admitted, taking a moment to recognize my clothing wasn’t the worst part of me. My cheeks and mouth were smeared with blood, and judging by how heavy my hair felt, it had begun to mat the curls together, which must have looked quite dramatic. My nails had bits of werewolf cheek embedded under them. Gross. I disappeared into my bedroom to fetch my robe, then returned to the living room, where Desmond remained motionless. “Make yourself at home. If you need to change, there are some sweats and T-shirts in the bottom drawer of my dresser that might fit you.” I pointed down the dark hallway. “Help yourself.”

  Stumbling into the bathroom, I didn’t bother to close the door. I shucked off my soiled clothing and turned the water on as hot as I could, then climbed into the shower.

  I stood under the scalding torrent until the water was no longer pink with blood. It felt like hours and a few layers of flesh later that I finally set foot on dry land again.

  I couldn’t be bothered to dry my hair other than to towel off as much water as I could. My curls had always been fat and loose, not tight and frizzy, so I wasn’t worried about them getting too out of control.

  Slipping on the lilac silk robe, I wondered why I had ever bought such a stupid thing. It clung to me everywhere water was still on my body.

  After exiting the bathroom, a cool wall of air greeted me in the living room, but there was no sign of Desmond. My loveseat was vacant and the television remained off. I didn’t see him in the kitchen, either. I crossed the short distance to my bedroom and stood in the doorway.

  He sat on the end of my bed, shirtless, wearing a pair of old, baggy black sweats that had been left by the only man I’d dated long enough for him to leave things behind. Several fresh cuts marred Desmond’s chest, all of which were in the process of healing into pink scars. They would be gone by morning. His head was in his hands, and when he looked up I could see the weariness and frustration in his eyes. I assumed he was worried about Lucas until he spoke.

  “I don’t know what we would have done if something had happened to you tonight.”

  Again with this we business. It was the second time he’d said it tonight.

  I got defensive, thinking he was being overbearing. “But you don’t even like me. You can’t stand to look at me. You don’t think—” My temper was bubbling, but he was shaking his head.

  “Lucas knew the minute he met me that when he became king of the pack it would be with me as his second. He knew it when we were only children. Because of his certainty, his family took me and my brother in, treated us like their own sons, and raised us to understand that kind of life in a way our own parents could not.”

  I could think of only one response. “Dominick’s your brother?” It was difficult to reconcile the idea of short, blond Dominick being related to dark, olive-skinned Desmond. Not to mention their different deme
anors.

  He nodded and continued. “The reason Lucas knew I would be so important to him is that he and I share a variation of the same soul-bond you two share.”

  Puzzle pieces began to fall into place, forming the answer to my most lingering question. I sat on the bed next to him, suddenly feeling rather queasy.

  “So, what you’re saying is… I mean the thing Genevieve said at the club…?”

  “About the double bond.”

  “Yes. I take it she wasn’t referring to the bonds between me and Lucas and you and Lucas.”

  He shook his head again. “No. She meant between you and Lucas, and you—”

  “With you.” I’d suspected as much from what Genevieve had insinuated, but it was different to hear it right from the wolf’s mouth.

  He looked at me, but I was staring at the empty armchair by the door. “I know how weird this must be for you,” he said, his voice sounding weary. “I didn’t believe it myself until the elevator earlier tonight. I could taste you so clearly it made my head spin.”

  I took a deep, shaking breath. “Me too.” I was beginning to feel tired, and I knew it wasn’t just from the fight. Sunrise couldn’t be too far off and I would need to sleep soon, but I still had so many questions. “Is this normal?”

  “We always knew it was possible. It’s rare for kings to be soul-bonded to their seconds, but when it does happen it creates a powerful structure for leadership. We can read each other very well. But, with that, we knew the connection could either negate the possibility of Lucas being soul-bonded to a future queen, or it would mean that I might be connected to her as well. There isn’t a science to soul-bonds. We honestly didn’t know what would happen.”

 

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