by Ann Macela
“I want us together, too,” she agreed.
He relaxed with a sigh. “Answer just one more question for me. Do you believe in magic?”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “And love is the best kind.”
Don’t miss Ann Macela’s next “Magic” book:
YOUR MAGIC OB MINE?
A BATTLE OVER THE “CORRECT” WAY TO CAST SPELLS IS brewing in the magic practitioner community. Theoretical mathematician Marcus Forscher has created an equation, a formula to bring the science of casting into the twenty-first century. Botanist Gloriana Morgan, however, maintains spell casting is an art, as individual as each caster, and warns against throwing out old casting methods and forcing use of the new. A series of heated debates across the country ensues.
Enter the soulmate phenomenon, an ancient compulsion that brings practitioners together and has persuasive techniques and powers—the soulmate imperative—to convince the selected couple they belong together. Marcus and Gloriana, prospective soulmates, want nothing to do with each other, however. To make matters worse, their factions have turned to violence. One adherent in particular, blaming Marcus and Gloriana for the mess, wants to destroy the soulmates.
Something’s got to give, or there will be dire consequences. The magic will work for them . . . or against them. But with two powerful practitioners bent on having their own way, which will it be—Your Magic Or Mine?—and if they don’t unite, will either survive?
ISBN#9 781933 83 632 4
US $7.95 / CDN $9.95
Mass Market Paperback / Paranormal Romance
OCTOBER 2008
www.annmacela. com
1 Also available by Ann Macela:
THE OLDEST KIND Of MAGIC
PROLOGUE
Black. Windless. Soundless. Odorless. Empty.
Not cold, not hot. Not hard, not soft.
Definitely not “just right.”
Where was she?
In a cave? A huge building without any windows? Another plane of existence?
Apprehension stiffened her backbone as a wave of malevolence swept over her.
Someone or something threatened. Was she in danger? Was someone else?
Who threatened? Where was it?
She’d cast lux, that’s what she’d do. A ball of light would be of great benefit in this situation.
“Lux!” she said, clapping her hands.
Nothing happened.
“Lux!” This time she snapped her fingers.
Same result.
What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she cast a simple spell?
Oh, that’s right. She had never been able to spell anything except herself.
What was she going to do? The threat grew stronger.
The blackness around her faded to a pale monochromatic hue.
She could see! She could see . . .
Nothing—just a dim grayness.
She brought her hands up in front of her eyes. At least she could see her fingers wiggling.
She looked forward, then back. The expanse yawned in all directions. She still couldn’t make out any walls, any edges to the space.
She revolved in a slow arc.
As she reached the three-quarter point in her revolution, a long elevated stage materialized in the middle distance, and she walked toward it over a gray stone floor. She knew she was walking, she could feel her muscles moving and her feet striking the surface, but her footsteps were silent.
As she got closer to the structure, some human figures appeared on the stage. A ramp grew out of the raised platform and the people walked down it toward her.
She felt the menace intensify as the figures came closer. Cold fear washed through her body, tried to overcome her. She refused to give into it. She could defend herself.
Someone appeared at her side. A man. Tall with blue eyes, he looked down at her and smiled. He was not there to hurt her, she knew, she felt it in her bones. He was there to help.
The intimidating figures changed from human to monsters and were almost upon them. She could see their gleaming fangs and scent their noxious, dead-fish odor.
She had to do something. Who did these creatures think they were, fooling around with her? Hot anger drove out the fear; she gathered every little bit of magic in her and cast the most powerful spells she could devise.
Lightning cracked, thunder rolled, fire flashed. A roar vibrated the air, and the ground shook.
Nothing changed.
The creatures still advanced, clawed hands now reaching for her and her companion.
She cast again and again, until she was exhausted.
It did no good.
The blue-eyed man beside her did nothing. Evidently, he was having the same problems she was.
The beasts were upon them. She could see their crazed yellow eyes, smell their foul breath, sense their vile hatred.
She could feel their sharp claws, and she jerked away from them, frantically fighting the amorphous shroud they had thrown over her.
“No, no!” she screamed, but her voice sounded only like a whimper.
She opened her eyes and stared straight into a yellow-eyed face with long sharp fangs.
“Mrrrow?” her male cat asked as he pushed at her arm with his paw. His claw was caught in her nightshirt.
“Yaahh?” asked the female from her other side.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Daria groaned as the tension drained from her body and her muscles went limp with relief. After a long moment to let her heartbeat return to normal, she stirred. “Okay, I’m awake,” she told the cats, disentangling herself from the sheet and the claw.
She reclined on her pillow for a moment. What a dream. Threatening monsters, a black cave, a man, and she couldn’t cast a spell to save them. She ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her scalp.
Where had all that come from? What was going on in her subconscious to cause such a dream?
The job, probably. Something about this last client was bothering her and appearing in her dreams. Only a few more days and it would be over. Thank God. Did she ever need a vacation.
“Come on,” she told the cats as she climbed out of bed. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
By the time she reached the kitchen, she was in control of herself again and couldn’t for the life of her remember what the dream had been about. But the memory of the blue, blue eyes of the man who had stood beside her lingered for a much longer time.
THE OLDEST KIND OF MAGIC
ANN MACELA
ISBN#9 781932 815 4 3 6
US $6.99 / CDN $9.99
Mass Market Paperback / Paranormal
Available Now
www.annmacela.com
