A Tale Of Two Witches

by Robyn Peterman

  Jeeves grinned and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It was perfect. You are perfect.”

  “We’re perfect together,” I amended.

  “That we are, Sassy Louise Bermangoggleshitz-Pants.”

  Our house was quiet. Marge and Baba Yaga were staying at Fabio’s house and the boys were having a slumber party at Zelda’s with the babies. Jeeves and I were blessedly alone.

  “I thought my dad was a pretty good square dancer,” I commented as I began to remove Jeeves’ bowtie. “However, Fabio was way better than Zelda.”

  “Agreed,” Jeeves said with a laugh. “Zelda looked a bit put out at the square dancing part.”

  “All in all, it was the best day ever. Roger didn’t weewee on anyone and my dad didn’t kill any guests.”

  “Those are some pretty low standards,” Jeeves replied, unzipping my gorgeous gown.

  “And that’s why I chose that song.”

  I giggled as he slipped the dress from my shoulders.

  Stopping and taking my face in his hands, Jeeves kissed the tip of my nose. “What you did for your father was beautiful. Not quite sure he deserved it yet though.”

  “It was for me, too—not just him. He’s trying. And trust me, he has tons of room for improvement. But someone has to believe in him, like you did in me.”

  Jeeves was quiet for a moment as he stared at me in delighted wonder. “Still do. I will believe in you always, my Sassy girl,” he promised. “You are the most precious thing in my life. You humble me and make me know what it is to be a man.”

  “Really?” I asked, wiggling out of my dress to stand before my kangaroo in only panties, garters, and sky high Manolo Blahniks.

  “Really,” he said, quickly disrobing with a sexy half smirk on his full, bitable lips.

  Goddess, he was beautiful and he was mine.

  “You wanna go practice making kangaroo-witch babies?” I asked, as I turned around and sauntered towards our bedroom making sure he had a fine view of my ass.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me over the threshold to our bedroom. “I love you, Sassy.”

  “I love you back and then some. Now hop to it,” I said with a laugh. “I want to see if married sex is better.”

  “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

  And it was.

  And married sex was better—not because we were married, but because with each day that passed we loved each other even more.

  I was the luckiest witch in the world to have my very own kangaroo.

  And you know what?

  My kangaroo was pretty darn lucky to have me too.

  The End… for now —

  Note From The Author

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them.

  You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!

  Many thanks for your support,

  ~ Robyn Peterman

  www.robynpeterman.com

  Check Out The Magic & Mayhem Kindle World

  Want More Dragons and Witches?

  I created a Magic & Mayhem Kindle World. I’m so excited I could squeeeeeeeeee!

  What is a Kindle World, you may ask? Well, let me explain…

  It’s basically fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters.

  And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!

  For those of you who prefer a more mature and succinct answer… Kindle Worlds is an Amazon exclusive program. The titles written for the world can NOT be purchased at other ebook retailers or anywhere besides the Amazon US site, but they can be read on any tablet, computer, or smartphone using the free Kindle App.

  There will be two launches a year filled with smexy, witchy, shifty, magical fun!

  But wait, you may ask…Can I write in the Magic and Mayhem world too? Yes, you can!!! Here is the link to the rules for writing in a world. Read ‘em and write!

  https://kindleworlds.amazon.com/how

  Below is the ink to some side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one.

  You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!

  xoxo Robyn

  Click here to check out the Magic & Mayhem Series Kindle World!

  My Three Favorite D’s

  I hope you enjoyed reading about Sassy Louise Bermangoggleshitz-Pants as much as I loved writing about her. I often get asked who I like to read and I figured this is a great opportunity to let you guys know who my one clicks are!

  The following excerpts are from my three favorite D’s—Dakota Cassidy, Deanna Chase and Donna McDonald. All three women are brilliant, funny and incredible authors.

  I’m also lucky to call them my friends.

  Keep reading for more fun and giggles!

  xoxo Robyn

  Dakota Cassidy

  Then Came Wanda… with a baby carriage

  Chapter One

  “Who’s the best, handsomest, loudest little dude in the whole wide, wide world?” Nina Blackman-Statleon cooed at the tiny bundle tucked close to Wanda Schwartz Jefferson’s chest, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.

  Baby Schwartz-Jefferson, as yet still officially unnamed, due to the nature of his rushed placement with his new parents, responded in kind by balling his fists, opening his mouth wide and howling louder, the tint of his pale green skin turning a muddy red with his frustration.

  Nina clucked her tongue and scratched her head full of luscious dark hair before grabbing his small fist and pressing it to her cheek. “Dude? You’re howlin’ like your skin’s peeling off. Auntie Nina just wants to make it better. Help me help you, little man.”

  “Maybe he’s teething? Charlie’s been perpetually teething for what seems like an eternity,” Greg Statleon, the gorgeous husband of the equally gorgeous Nina, suggested hopefully, waving a round teething ring fresh from the freezer in his hand.

  “The truth,” Nina muttered in agreement. She took the teething ring from Greg and brushed it against the baby’s mouth, but he made a sputtering noise, scrunched his face back up again and returned to his caterwauling without missing a note.

  “But he’s too young to teeth,” the woman named Marty said.

  Nina made a face at her other friend. “What’s too young in this crazy flippin’ world we live in, Marty? Charlie’s been teething for almost three years now because she’s half vampire and ages slow AF. The witch half of her is setting her twenty billion stuffed unicorns on fire on the reg, and making it rain in the playroom with thunder and lightning like she’s been doin’ it for a hundred years. Little dude is paranormal, is all I’m saying. Might wake up tomorrow and find he has a full set of teeth.”

  Wanda tightened her hold on the squirming infant, looking helplessly to her friends from her seat on the rocking chair she’d received at her impromptu baby shower only three days ago.

  “What am I doing wrong?” she whispered, her pretty eyes filling with plump tears. “I’ve rocked, walked, bounced him until my legs are ready to fall off. I’ve offered him the milk and powdered food they sent home with us from the orphanage, but he spits it right back out. Nothing works! He’s been doing this for hours. Maybe it’s just me? Maybe…maybe he hates me.”

  Marty Flaherty gripped her friend’s slender shoulders and hugged her hard from behind, her bangle bracelets jingling and shiny around her slender wrist. “Who could hate you, honey? No one. That’s who. So just forget that notion right now. He’s just adjusting to his new surroundings, that’s all. He’s been in a different environment for almost a month of his life. This is all new. New smells, new sounds, new everything.”

  Nina bobbed her head emphatically, clingin
g to the baby’s fist with one hand and using the other to brush a tear from her friend’s face. “What Marty said. He might only be a month old, but I’m sure he senses the difference in routine, people, whatthefluff ever. Okay, so he senses it in an excruciatingly loud way with lungs the size of Sherman tanks, but the little dude’s just expressing himself. He’s as new to you as you are to him, Wanda. Swear, that’s probably all it is, dude.”

  Marty paused and looked to her friend, cocking her swirly blonde head with the immaculate highlights. “Did you just agree with me, Dark Overlord of the Night?”

  “She did,” said the tiny black cat with an enormous head (Calamity, to anyone who asked) curled up in a ball on the back of an overstuffed armchair by the bay window.

  Nina covered the baby’s ears and narrowed her charcoal-black gaze at Marty. “Shut your gooped-up face, ass-sniffer, and you, too, Calamity. Yeah, I agreed with you, numbnuts. And if it meant this super unhappy little dude would stop crying, I’d even shop with you. Wear makeup. Put on a stinkin’ dress. A fucking yellow one with flowers and lace. Whatever it takes.”

  Marty snickered and grinned. “Marshmallow.”

  Nina recovered the baby’s ears with her fingers. “Frosted blue eyeshadow-aholic,” she shot back.

  Marty stuck her tongue out at the half vampire, half witch, visibly fighting not to respond out of obvious respect for the baby’s tender ears.

  Wanda’s husband, Heath, an incredibly tall, well-muscled hunk of a man, reached a large hand out and cupped the baby’s head with a sympathetic smile. He dropped a kiss on the top of his light brown head while wiping the tears from the baby’s cheeks with his thumb.

  “Buddy, what’s the trouble? Daddy will do anything to make it better.”

  Baby Schwartz-Jefferson bowed his body with another ear-piercing howl, arching his spine out and away from Wanda, whose tears now flowed freely down her creamy cheeks.

  Her lower lip trembled when she whisper-sobbed, “He hates me. Us. Everything. This was supposed to be a special day. A celebration. A day to welcome him into our family, and now…”

  Keegan, yet another delicious specimen of paranormal male—and Marty’s other half—shook his raven-haired head, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder. “Impossible, lady. You’re the most likeable person I know, and this is a special day. It’s just noisier than first anticipated. What’s a party without some noise?”

  Nina pushed her way past the men and held her arms out. “Okay, that’s enough of that whiny BS, Wanda Jefferson. Give me the kid and you go get your shite together. Wash your face, brush your hair, moisturize, whatever. I’m not gonna to have you questioning the meaning of your existence because the kid’s disoriented. Hand him over to Auntie Nina. Go find your center while I see if there’s some kind of spell I can cast to help. Darnell,” she called over her shoulder at the large man in gold high-tops who looked like a teddy bear dressed as a rapper. “Grease up those silky-smooth vocal chords, buddy. I feel a round of ‘Wheels On The Bus’ comin’ on.”

  Darnell grimaced as his weary chocolate-brown eyes met Nina’s. “I got you. Whatever y’all need, boss.”

  The stately, elderly gentleman named Archibald, with the kind blue eyes ensconced in a smiling face, dressed as though he’d come from the eighteen hundreds in his formal manservant wear, nodded and tugged at his throat. “Oh, Miss Nina, no more ‘Wheels On The Bus’. I beg you—beg you. What say you to a rousing ‘Michael Row The Boat Ashore’? I daresay, I’m a mean contributor when singing in the round.”

  Nina scooped up the screaming baby from Wanda and slapped Archibald on the back with a chuckle. “Been a rough few days, huh, buddy?”

  His grin wore some frayed edges as he ran the back of his hand over the baby’s plump cheek, but still his gaze was filled with joy. “I daresay, ’tis been at the very least loud. I believe we’ve sung every song in the history of baby songs, to which our fair master has quite promptly turned his nose up. Yet, howling aside, we already love him as our own. Do we not, young sapling?”

  “Sapling,” Nina snorted, wrinkling her nose at Wanda as she made her way across the wide family room filled with beautiful Belgian farmhouse décor in a soft palette of creams and light sage greens, with stone pots full of lavender. “Can we get a name here, please, Mommy? Tell Mommy she needs to give you a name, Punkin’. How do you feel about Screech?”

  The baby responded by batting his fists in the vampire’s face.

  “Okay. You don’t like it. I’m not insulted. We’re only making suggestions here,” she replied, nibbling at his jaw, refusing to be deterred by his angry cries. She made another proposal as she whisked him off with Darnell and Archibald in tow. “Oh! I know. Mouth? Or Mouthy with a Y or maybe a double E? You know it’s all the flippin’ rage for new parents to turn a simple name into a spelling bee just to be different these days.”

  As if the poor child hadn’t opened his mouth wide enough before, he did so this time by staring directly at the beautiful woman and literally screeching in her face.

  Yet still, Nina wasn’t put off. “And people complain about how loud I am. Sheesh, buddy. Yer takin’ my cake.”

  As Nina took the baby off to another room in Wanda and Heath’s amazing house, and assorted offspring of the group played in the big farmhouse kitchen, Sally Brice—Sal, to the maybe two friends she had left—quietly observed from her corner in an overstuffed armchair while pretending to write notes on a legal pad.

  As things quieted once more, Wanda finally ventured a sheepish peek at her and smiled an apology. “I’m so sorry you had to see us like this, Miss Brown. I find I’m so emotional these days. We weren’t expecting… I mean, the agency didn’t tell us to expect you today…”

  Miss Brown. She had to remember she hadn’t used her real name or she’d blow her cover.

  Sal held up a hand and shook her head. “Not at all. But surprise home visits are a part of the package, I’m afraid.” She patted herself on the back. That sounded very natural. Like she had a total clue as to what she was talking about.

  Wanda—elegant, refined, utterly ruffled—folded her hands in her lap. “I guess we really surprised you with all the carrying on, huh?”

  Sal had come here full of vim and vigor, ready to rip the baby from the arms of his new parents, only to be astounded by what greeted her. People. So many pretty people all packed into a room, doing everything in their cumulative power to stop this baby from a moment’s unhappiness.

  They soothed. They cajoled. They supported each other in an endless round of patience and understanding. After a half hour of all the screaming, Sal wanted to make a run for it, but she couldn’t.

  She wouldn’t. She was mesmerized by this network of men and woman known as OOPS and their unwavering devotion to each other and the comfort of this child.

  Sal didn’t like it. Or rather, she didn’t want to like it, but even she had to admit the baby was in good hands. But that didn’t give her any explanations. She wasn’t here to be wooed. She was here for answers.

  So instead, Sal played the part she’d come to play. Social worker—which was a huge stretch for someone as ridiculously inexperienced with kids as she was.

  Searching her mind, Sal tried to recall the million and two movies she’d seen featuring infants and the advice she knew had to be stored somewhere in her head.

  Taking a deep breath in the silence that had enveloped the family room, with its comfortable furniture, throw pillows and blankets in muted blues, creams and white, she took a stab at it.

  Leaning forward, Sal tucked her hair behind her ear into the conservative bun at the back of her head. “You know, I think your friends are right when they say he just needs to adjust. It’s true. He can sense a new environment, new crib, etcetera, and that may take him a bit to warm up to. Babies like yours, who’ve been in an orphanage for a time, can sometimes react adversely to the love I’m certain you want to shower on him. He’s not used to being kissed and hugged. Cuddling and playtime and all the
things crucial to a baby’s development sometimes go by the wayside in favor of just getting the job done. While the orphanage takes great pride in providing all the necessary things like food and shelter, they’re strapped for the equally important hugs and kisses and say…er…tummy time.”

  Phew. Where she’d pulled the phrase “tummy time” from was a mystery, but they all appeared to absorb the information and nod as though she made sense—which was an enormous relief.

  Marty’s finger shot up in the air, her blue eyes twinkling. “Tummy time! Right. That helps strengthen his shoulders and neck, yes? But he should always be supervised, if I recall. It’s been so long since Hollis was born, I’ve forgotten.”

  Wanda sat up straight and smoothed her flowing floral skirt over her thighs. “I don’t think tummy time is what he’s so upset about, but I’ll try anything to get him to calm down. This can’t be good for him. I can’t bear to see him so unhappy. I know it’s a million times worse for him, but… It’s…”

  “Upsetting,” Sal finished for her, crossing her ankles, only to catch a glimpse of her ugly, brown orthopedic shoes. Buying them had seemed to make perfect sense. They felt like something a social worker would wear when she was trying to come off stern and authoritative. Now, in front of all these pretty people, she just felt foolish. “I can only imagine how hard this has been for you as a new mother. Adoption has a way of throwing you into the burning ring of fire, doesn’t it?”

  But Wanda waved a slender hand at her. “No, no! Forget about me and how I feel. I’m sorry you had to see me cry. I’m not normally so emotionally overwrought. You’d think I’d actually birthed the baby and was suffering from post-partum from the swing of my hormones. Anyway, it’s not me we need to worry about. It’s him. I want him to feel safe, loved, comfortable. We waited a long time for him. I’m determined to do this right, and seeing him cry like this is tearing me apart.”