“Sanjay would,” I said.
“But I didn’t feel lucky, because I knew in my heart that I didn’t truly love her, in the way that she loved me. I worried that our union, though blessed by the universe, would not survive the test of time.”
“And your insatiable lust for women.”
“That too.” He took a deep breath. “She told me her family would never accept our marriage, but I was too young to consider that a problem. Her people were wrong. We were right. And no elf could match me in battle, so I didn’t worry.”
I swallowed. “They came for her?”
Donovan withdrew his hand and leaned back. "Our baby, Gabriel, was born eight months later, a healthy warlock, with few visible signs of Elven ancestry. He's a good boy. I'm sorry you haven't met him yet. He'll be back in town next week." His pride over his son was palpable, and for a moment, I had hope that his story would take a happier turn.
“Did you fall in love with Eleanor after the birth of your son?”
Donovan closed his eyes. "I like to think I would have, but I'll never know because they came for her and our son the day after the birth."
“Oh, Donovan.”
“I should have been prepared, but being young and stupid, I wasn’t. The wards on my house were garden-variety, nothing strong enough to stop an army. When twenty trained elven warriors stormed my home, I was alone, with only my magic to protect us.” He clasped my hand again and this time held it firmly in his grip.
“The baby?”
Donovan smiled. “They came to punish Eleanor for her betrayal, and take her baby with them, but they underestimated a warlock child.”
“Oh?”
Donovan's breathing hitched. "In the fighting, I was stabbed several times and beaten to an inch of my life. I blacked out. They suspect they left me for dead. When I came to, Eleanor lay in a pool of blood, with an arrow through her heart. Gabriel was gone. I feared the worst.
Sanjay came to my call, and we searched everywhere. Just as I prepared to travel to the Elven realm, Gabriel re-appeared."
“Thank the Goddess.”
Donovan nodded and I felt his pulse return to normal. "So that's when your heart was broken, and since then, you've been a monk," I said.
Donovan leaned his head back. “No. Eleanor did not break my heart. In a way, I think she saved it. All I know about love, I learned from raising Gabriel.”
Oh, fuzzball. He’s a good man and a good father.
He winced as if he felt my thought. "I continued to take my sexual satisfaction in every way I could until I met another woman who changed my life." His voice darkend. "Then, I became a monk."
“Tell me about her.”
"Not yet. It's your turn. Tell me what left you so bitter that you cannot trust me tonight, when the fate of all our people rests on it."
Sixteen
“Never trust a blood moon.” ~ Merlina Black
“Aren’t we out of time?” I said.
With a whisk of his hand, Donovan conjured a floating clock. It read 10 p.m.
I stretched my neck. “Okay, my turn. I’ve never been married. I’ve never truly been in love, but I’ve had my heart bruised too many times to count.”
“Tell me more.” He eyed me closely. “I won’t judge you.”
“I like sex.
Donovan sat up.
"I like sex a lot, and lots of it." I put up my hand to stop him from pouncing on me. His energy pulsed with interest. "So, I've had my share of men, every type you can imagine. They just never stuck. You could say I'm a Teflon lover. I should write a ballad about that."
His fingers brushed a tendril of my hair away from my face and gently settled it behind my ear.
I sucked in a stuttered breath. "Okay, the truth is, I think I'm cursed."
His eyes softened. “I sense no curse. Tell me about your longest relationship. I told you about mine. It’s your turn to tell me about yours.”
Damn, it was hard to look into his Irish-blue, eyes and not melt into a puddle of wonder. I cleared my throat. "For six long years, I lived with Jack Regins, a no-good, stubborn warlock who played the bit-coin market. I stayed in the relationship because I thought that’s what good witches do, but in the end he ran off with a lot of other people's cash and I was just glad to be rid of him.”
Donovan’s brow rose. “Hmm.”
I continued, “Our relationship was fun at first because, as you undoubtedly know, witch and warlock sex is the best.
He nodded slowly.
I licked my lips. “After the first year, signs that our affair had worn thin showed on both of us. We stuck it out another five hoping it would get better. He ended it with a phone text. Can you believe that? He wrote, 'Sorry babe, I'm outa here, and I can't take you where I'm going.' The muggle police arrived minutes later and hounded me for two years, thinking I knew where the bastard was hiding. But I didn't have a clue.'"
Donovan nodded. “And?”
“And nothing. That’s my story.”
“Hmm.” Donovan leaned back and folded his arms. “You didn’t love him.”
“I wanted to, with all my heart, I wanted to, but no, I did not love him.”
Donovan wiggled his nose. “I sense someone else broke you.”
The image of my Venetian lover came instantly to mind. “Mmm. There was one encounter. I can’t call it a relationship, but it changed my feelings about men.”
Donovan’s eyes blazed and he leaned in. “Tell me about him,” he said.
“No, it’s your turn.”
Donovan firmed his lips. “I met a beautiful enchantress at a party, and she changed my life. It happened six months after Eleanor died. I’ve stayed celibate since that time.”
“What did she do to you?” I asked.
"I'm not sure. She was a sorceress of remarkable power, but I don't even know her name. We came together, and our passion rose to heights I had never felt before."
“And now you don’t want any other woman?” I said.
He nodded. “Something like that.”
“That’s exactly what happened to me. Perhaps we’re both cursed.”
Donovan's cell phone rang, and he checked it. "All clear. There are no signs of the undead, yet."
I checked my phone. “We still have thirty minutes left.” I bit my bottom lip. “Do you still think we should make love?”
Donovan ran a hand through his hair. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes." The answer came from deep within me. I did trust him.
He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. He groaned as he drew me closer to him.
His warlock scent filled my senses. I wanted him. “I’m ready,” I said. I’d run out of reasons not to kiss him, and I had a whole lot of reasons to kiss him. It was time to break the awkwardness that kept us apart.
“Pas encore ma vilaine sorcière.” Not yet my naughty witch.
My gut clenched. It couldn’t be? “You? You were my Venetian lover?” I said.
A wicked smile crossed his face. “And, you were my enchantress?”
Our eyes locked, and the energy between us sparked. Donovan kissed me as if there was no tomorrow … as if zombies were at the gates. A moan slipped out of my mouth. "How can this be?"
“Qui connaît la volonté ou le désir de l'univers?” Who knows the will or want of the universe?
“Donovan, if we do not survive this night, I am glad that we had the chance to be together once again.”
He pulled me closer. “We are meant to be together. What we have is larger than life. I felt it then, and I feel it now, in the fiber of my being, in my heart and in my soul. Our first night together changed both of us.”
“I feel it too.”
He snickered “Ce soir je suis votre amant et je vous satisferai de toutes les manières possibles.” Tonight, I am your lover and yours alone. I will satisfy you in every possible way. His low voice stirred me almost as much as his touch. He bit my ear lobe hard. “D’une façon dont tu ne sais même pas que
tu veux. Faites-moi confiance.” In ways you don’t even know you want. Just trust me.
“I trust you.”
Epilogue
“Live by the sun, love by the moon.” ~ anon
Donovan and I continued our relationship in the same way we started it, with one wild adventure after another, hyphenated with fantastic sex.
The undead beasts appeared in the glow of the Blood Moon, but the energy coursing beneath our town rose, merged with our town’s magic, and spilled over the land sweeping the evil beasts into the ocean.
The wizards later told us that Mystic Keep’s magic would not have been strong enough to stop the threat if Donovan and I had not united our magic. The why of it, I will never understand, but who understands love. It comes when it wants and steals us away. That's all I have figured out.
Gabriel O'Reilly, Donovan's son, returned from his trip a week later, and we became a blended family. I fell in love with Gabriel almost as fast as I fell for his father. Charm definitely runs in the O'Reilly family.
A week following that, Cassie gave birth to my beautiful niece, Luna Ophelia Merlina Khan. She was ten pounds of pure witchy magic, and I knew we would be best friends forever!
My heart burst with happiness. I had not only found a mage I loved, but I had a niece. I thought nothing could make me happier.
But I was wrong.
Three weeks later, I woke up in our room in Donovan's home, surrounded by sunflowers growing out of the floorboards. "Donovan!" I called out.
He appeared with a breakfast tray in his hand, filled with coffee, and chocolate croissants. "You called my love?"
“How did I ever get so lucky? I said.
Donovan wiggled his eyebrows.
As I dug into my feast, I asked, “What exactly did I do to deserve breakfast in bed?” Donovan's romantic side usually turned up after dark. Generally, at this time of day, he would be out jogging. And … I stopped my mug of coffee mid-air. What was with the flowers?
A wide smile spread across Donovan’s face. “You don’t know yet?”
I put down the mug. “Know what?” Had the beasts arrived late for the party?
Plums jumped on to the bed and pawed my stomach. I looked down at my abdomen. The cat used to do that with Cassie when she was …
“No. No, it can’t be,” I said.
Donovan raised his right brow and said, not a word.
“But I’m too old.”
“You’re never too old for love,” he said.
An hour later, a silver mist appeared in the room, and Sanjay stood in the center of it. He stepped forward with the mysterious envelope in his hand he received the first day Merlina arrived in town. “We have trouble,” he said.
Donovan and Merlina stared at him. For Sanjay to invade their bedroom it had to be bad.
“A bounty has been set on all warlock babies.”
To learn what happens next, read Jane Black’s trilogy (i.e., Dial Witch…)
Afterword
Thank you for reading my story. I hope it made you smile.
You can find out more about me and my writing on my website, https://www.jo-anncarson.com. The first book in three of my series is free, and you can find the links there.
For my latest news, contests and book deals, sign up for my newsletter, https://jo-anncarson.com/free-book-offer/(psst. You get a free book when you do.)
I wish you well. Keep safe. Keep happy.
Warmest Regards,
Jo-Ann
p.s. If you would like to help me out, please post a review on Amazon or whereveryou found my book. Sharing is caring as they say, and reviews sell books.
Acknowledgments
I am immensely grateful to my beta readers who help keep my stories on track, Nicole Laverdure, Barb Cassata, Darcy Speed and Marianne Kay. I couldn’t do this without you ladies.
A special thanks to Nicole who graciously fixed my French.
I’d also like to thank DDD, Deranged Doctor Designs for the cover, which I love.
A special note of thanks goes to my proofreader, Tammy Payne.
And finally a huge thank you goes to my family who put up with me and encourage my creativity.
Also by Jo-Ann Carson
The Perfect Brew Paranormal Cozy Mystery Trilogy (2019-2020)
The Perfect Brew
A Double Shot of Magic
A Triple Shot of Trouble
Mystic Keep Universe (2019 -)
A Blind Date for Christmas
Three Reasons Not to Kiss a Warlock
Murder for Christmas (a gothic suspense) (2018)
A Ghost & Abby Series (paranormal mystery) (2017, 2018)
Midnight Magic
I Messed Up Christmas
Death by Seance
Death by Tarot Card
The Gambling Ghosts Series (2016, 2017)
(sweet fantasy, adventure and romance)
A Highland Ghost for Christmas, Novella #1
A Valentine’s Ghost for Valentine’s Day, Novella # 2
Confessions of a Pirate Ghost, Novella #3
The Biker Ghost Meets His Match, Novella #4
The Vancouver Blues Series
Black Cat Blues
Ain’t Misbehavin’
Mata Hari Series
Covert Danger
Ancient Danger
Lovin’ Danger
Excerpt - Spellbinder (FREE)
When Ophelia Black decides to settle down and create the perfect sanctuary for witches, warlocks, and wizards the realm is torn apart and the universe as we know it is changed forever.
This paranormal tale is the origin story for my books set in the Mystic Keep Universe. It is FREE to all new subscribers to my newsletter.
Subscribe Now
Chapter One
"A true initiation never ends." ~ Robert Anton Wilson
Ophelia Black maneuvered her slightly-stolen boat down the Grand Canal towards the Palazzo Luna Hotel for her nineteenth-birthday party. The last of the day's light danced along the surface of the water. Tonight, as the full moon rose, her full powers would descend upon her. If the prophecies were right, she would become the greatest Spellbinder to ever live. Excitement tinged with a healthy dose of fear coursed through her veins.
A brisk breeze from the Adriatic swept her long, black hair away from her face. Ophelia lifted her chin and laughed. The greatest Spellbinder! Since when had she been the greatest at anything? Standing at the helm of the craft, surrounded by crates of rotting fruit, it was hard to imagine herself as becoming someone special in the world of sorcery.
At her side, Hexy, her lynx familiar, snickered. She heard all of Ophelia's thoughts.
Ophelia shrugged. "Seriously, Hexy, I am not exceptional in any way—never have been, never will be."
The professors at Brambles, the academy of sorcery she attended since she could walk, consistently graded her as 'below expectations' in all the basic skills. Last term, Ms. Gremlin suggested her relentless pursuit of young men was the main problem. Ophelia cackled.
Her mother rolled her eyes in frustration at Ophelia's progress in kitchen spells. It was a standard family joke that there weren't enough dishes in the realm to withstand Ophelia's cleaning spells.
When her aunt Yoka, who smelled faintly of mothballs, stepped in to tutor Ophelia, the family hoped things would change, but the lessons ended when Ophelia accidentally lit the house on fire. Dear aunt Yoka refused to continue their sessions and refused all invitations for tea.
Only Ophelia's father believed in her. A gifted wizard and stern patriarch, he would arch his right furry brow when he heard stories about Ophelia not performing well and say in a quiet tone, "Give her time."
The nauseous smells of gasoline and rotting bananas pulled Ophelia out of her thoughts. If her mother caught such a scent on her, the lectures would begin. 'What self-respecting enchantress turns up for an event marking the most important day of her life, smelling like bananas?’
Ophelia shrugged her thin s
houlders. The stinky barge was a just quirk of fate on an otherwise perfect day. Nothing more. When her sister Penelope-the-perfect-child failed to pick her up in the fancy gondola her father had hired, Ophelia improvised. It was no big deal.
What was the good of magic if you didn't use it? Rather than be late for her party, Ophelia used a spell on the hotel manager, who gallantly loaned her a supply boat. Once she got to the event, the grand plan could resume. Despite arriving in a floating pile of rubbish, the celebration would be a phenomenal success—a day to remember. Of this, Ophelia felt certain.
The motor sputtered.
Not now! Not now! Ophelia ran a hand through her long black hair and groaned.
Gondolas, Vaporetto, and private boats filled the narrow waterway as people rushed home or to restaurants for their dinner. Should she flag one down? Ophelia pinched the top of her nose. Not yet. The engine was probably just flooded. She would let it rest. What difference would a couple minutes make? The palace was almost in sight, and the party wouldn't start without her.
Ophelia's gut roiled. She really, really wanted to be at the palace, to suck in all the witchy-pomp and pageantry of the most important day of her life. If she had to swim the last few yards, she could do it. Hex it, she would do it. There was no way she would miss out on her own initiation ceremony.
The guests would be missing her by now. It wasn't the sort of shindig one could postpone. She took out her cell phone and tried to text her mother, but couldn't get any reception. What an odd day for her mobile to not work.
Ophelia worried her bottom lip and said a silent prayer as she turned the engine key. It roared to life, and once again, she moved closer to her destination.
3 Reasons To Not Kiss A Warlock: Beware, Bewitched, Bewarlocked (Mystic Keep Universe Book 2) Page 7
