Werecats and Werelocks (Collection)

by Dakota Cassidy

  He threw his head back and laughed at the pure innocence that only Sophie could retain after seeing a demon. “I think I can. Can you do me a favor too?"

  "Yep.” She cocked her head to the left and listened closely.

  "No more going anywhere with strangers. Not even if he has the biggest candy bar in the whole wide world, okay?"

  "Am I going to have to sit in the time-out chair? Mommy makes me do that when I don't listen. I didn't mean not to listen, but I just couldn't help it.” She shrugged her bathrobe clad shoulders in confusion.

  Yeah, Addison figured it was something like that. “Well, now you can help it, Soph. So listen to Caleb. Got that?"

  "Got it."

  "Good,” Caleb chimed in. “Now close your eyes and have sweet dreams."

  For once in her six years, Sophie smiled and did as she was asked

  And then Sophie was gone too.

  Just like that.

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  Chapter Five

  "You were a what?"

  "A snake-oil salesman,” he muttered, obviously embarrassed.

  "Oh. My. God. Like the guys who sold those supposed cure-alls in covered wagons?” Addison asked, sitting astride Caleb's luscious, naked body.

  "Yeah, so?” His response screamed defensive.

  "Don't get all upset. I'm just getting a feel for where your entry level job skills are at in the twenty-first century is all. You probably could apply those skills to a 1-800 psychic hotline,” she snorted. “Oh, wait. I know! How do you feel about door-to-door vacuum cleaner sales? Those guys are real shysters."

  Caleb's strong hands cupped her breasts as he moved his hips, gesturing for her to slide down the hot length of his cock. “I need a real job, Addy. You know, like the kind that has benefits and security. 401k's. I have a feeling the psychic hotline doesn't have benefits."

  She had to give him credit. In the past month he'd set about finding a job and contributing. It went without saying that Caleb would stay with her.

  Addison's hope was that he'd chose to do that even after he got on his feet. There had been many surprises as a result of that night and his ambition was one of them. She'd have expected him to be lackadaisical in looking for a job. After all he was a warwolf, er, werelock. He'd never had to work. His magic had done the work for him.

  She forgot all of his job hunting woes when her nipples tightened and a low groan slid from her lips. “I just can't believe you're human again. And with no side effects to boot. I mean, I couldn't believe the next day you couldn't even cough up a hairball, let alone shift,” she said before using her knees to rise and then plunge herself downward on his shaft. “God, that's sooo good,” she purred.

  Caleb twisted his hips upward, just the way she liked, grinding against the lips of her spread pussy. It rubbed her clit, creating a delicious friction. “Well, I am, and I don't plan to question why or how I was lucky enough to survive this. So that means I have to deal with it and dealing means a nine-to-five job."

  "You know, I was thinking about that night."

  "And what were you thinking?” he asked, planting a kiss on her lips.

  "I was thinking that we should thank the magic Gods that your magic faded slowly. We'd have been in some shit if you lost your power and you weren't able to erase Sophie's memories, Houdini.” His magic and his ability to shift had taken its sweet time taking its leave. It had lingered for a day or so, then slowly faded to black.

  "I'm just glad Sophie's okay."

  Her heart warmed with his words. Planting her hands on his chest, Addison rose in a slow slide, then drove back downward. “I think,” she suggested with a hoarse whisper, “we should talk later."

  Caleb consented with another moan when she wrapped two fingers around the base of his cock, circling it. Pulling her to him, he wrapped his lips around a nipple and sucked the turgid bud tightly in his mouth.

  A sweet/sharp zing of pleasure shot to her cunt, leaving her breathless and needy for release. As the pressure mounted, his strokes became rhythmic and intoxicating, pushing her further to the edge of orgasm. She loved the finely veined surface of his cock, the way it stretched her, the texture of it wet with her juices.

  Caleb pulled her closer with a hiss when she rolled her hips, letting her head fall back on her shoulders. He buried his face between her breasts and plunged upward with one last, fierce stroke of silken heat.

  Addison's cry was long and harsh as she came, gripping the firm shoulders that had carried so much weight for so many years.

  Caleb's climax made his muscled body shudder, leaving Addison feeling empowered and purring with satisfaction.

  He cupped the back of her head and kissed her lips. “You know, I don't think you were telling the truth when you said you didn't get out much."

  With a giggle, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yeah, it's clear from the constant banging at my door that I have suitors coming out my wazoo."

  "You damned well better not,” he retorted with the typical possessive nature she'd grown so used to since they'd sent Volac packing a month ago today. It made her insides get all goofy and wiggly. It also lent promise to a future for them—together.

  "Can I ask you something?"

  "Yep. Just don't expect a coherent answer. I just spent my last couple of brain cells in that torture chamber you call a condom,” he chuckled with that honeyed rumble that spilled from his throat.

  "Do you miss your—your whatever it was you lived in? Dimension was it? I mean, you must have had friends, if not family."

  "Some days I do. Especially when I think about all the hard work it is to be a human. I can have contact with the people I've forged relationships with, Addy. Just because I'm here now doesn't mean they can't come calling. It'll just be different than before. I can't visit them on their turf. It also makes getting you naked more work."

  Her heart ached for what he'd been robbed of. First, his mortality, then his family and finally his immortality and magic. Yet, he could still joke. “Do you think they will? Come calling, I mean?"

  "I'm sure they will. Though honestly, I was living a half-life. I could never rest with the weight of the talisman and what might happen if Volac got ahold of it. It's a relief to know it's gone. At least for now. I think I got pretty damned lucky that I didn't end up dead instead of just human again. It could have been much worse, I suppose. Thankfully, I spent a lot of time observing your world over the centuries. It isn't such a hard adjustment to make staying here because I did. I had a lot of time on my hands, waiting around with that talisman. Besides, I think I'm almost of the belief that the talisman was meant to be mine because it led me to you."

  Addsion's heart beat harder. “And look what we have now, eh? An unemployed, ex-immortal warwolf,” she joked, hugging him harder and burying her face in his neck, soaking in the scent that was all Caleb.

  "Werelock. God, the indignity of it all. Will you ever get that right?"

  She smiled against his neck. “Will you miss your magic powers? Mere mortals have to actually purchase their beer at the store, you know. Heaven forbid."

  "Only when I can't zap your clothes off,” he joked and then his face grew serious. “I've been meaning to ask you something. What's this? I found it on the counter when we came back from the pumpkin patch.” He reached behind the pillow and pulled out a piece of white paper.

  Oh. She'd forgotten about that. She leaned back, her eyes opening briefly and she chuckled, splaying her hand across his broad chest and snatching the note from him with the other. Thank God she'd called Nathan bright and early the day after Halloween. It had taken some explaining and she'd sat through an hour-long lecture on living wills, but he'd backed off, swallowing her story about a medical scare. “It was my on-the-spot will. You know, so my sister would be clear on who got the one plate I own in my desolate cabinets."

  With a sly grin, she tore the letter to her lawyer up and let the small pieces fall over them in a shower of white.


  "You know what?"

  "What?"

  "I say we get me a plate too. So your plate won't be so lonely."

  "Reallllly?"

  "Reallllly."

  And Addison wholeheartedly agreed, letting her lips do the consenting.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Confessions of a Wannabe Witch

  Dakota Cassidy

  Having trouble with your Abra Cadabra? Need a little zing to make your magic wand sing? Are you a vampire who hopes to overcome your fear of blood? A fairy who can't fly without the aid of a stewardess and piloted plane?

  Then Castoffsphere is the place to help you with all of your witchcraft ills and it's where you'll find Felicity Speillman, wannabe witch.

  Think of the place Harry Potter went to learn a little sorcery, filled with bumbling misfits. Felicity was sent to Castoffsphere by her parents in a last ditch effort to hone her sorely lacking witch skills. Felicity needs to get a big fat A if she hopes to obtain the coveted broom she needs to complete her schooling. However, dyslexia and a spell gone awry bring with it their own bag of magic tricks.

  Christian is a genie and he's been sucked out of his cushy bottle in L.A. by the very confused Felicity. He looks like Yul Brynner, smells like heaven and he claims Felicity is his wife.

  Alrighty then. Who is Felicity to argue with a man who may quite possibly hold the key to her magic troubles and looks like her favorite dead movie star? Felicity and Christian strike up a deal rivaling David Copperfield, but as she grows more attached to her newly acquired magic man, someone shows up and spoils all the fun. She wants Christian back and she'll stop at nothing to get him.

  Go figure, huh?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  "Um ... wisps of willow, trees of time, heed to me upon this rhyme. Feast nor famine, treat this well ... um ... um ... damn, why can't I remember this friggin’ spell?” Felicity Speillman shook her auburn hair and rubbed her forehead with her thumb, circling the spot between her eyes.

  Sighing, she shook her handy-dandy magic wand and looked at the tip, confused. Okay, so this like had to be the loser magic wand, ‘cause it sure as hell wasn't magic anything. Magically cost her a fortune, magically sucked up some spare pocket change, but magically work?

  Nah, that would be too damn easy.

  Flipping the pages of her notes, she searched the jumbled mess she'd written down far too quickly. Always in a rush ... served her right.

  This witch crap was hard.

  Squaring her shoulders, she tried once more. Blowing out a puff of air, Felicity began again. “Wisps of willow, trees of time, heed to me upon this rhyme. Feast nor famine, treat this well, leave here now, no longer,” she stumbled, searching her mind for the right word, “no longer ... oh! Dwell! Yes, that's it, dwell!"

  Felicity made a small circle in the air with the wand and pointed it at the terra cotta planter. The wand hummed lightly and spit a flicker of light out of the end of its silver tip.

  And then, nothing. Nada. Not shit for shineola.

  So, okay, she wasn't going to graduate from the Harry Potter School of Sorcery anytime soon. Turning her back, she flipped through her notes again, pausing at the distinct, subtle beginnings of a rumble.

  Knowing full well what came next, Felicity ducked, covering her head and diving for the floor.

  The pretty terra cotta planter exploded, leaving behind a trail of clumped dirt and bits of green ficas tree. When the dust cleared she poked her head out and scanned the room.

  Oh, Rico was back!

  The planter that once sat by her fireplace was replaced by her overweight orange tabby, Rico. His hair stood on end, rather like he'd just hit the fluff cycle of a dryer, but, other than that, he was looking good. Felicity scooped him up and scratched his ears, hugging him to her until he meowed his protest.

  Rico leaned into her caress, purring with pleasure. “Where have you been, mister? Never mind, that was a stupid question. Some far off dimension, right? I'm sorry, bud. I think my wand has a kink. I promise to read those damn spells more carefully."

  Now, if she could just find the freakin’ spell to clean this crap up.

  Sighing, she figured the mortal way was probably the best route for a loser witch like her. If she could only keep track of all of the spells in her head, she'd be just fine. But, noooo, she had some short-term memory issues that prevented her from memorizing much. Oh and she was dyslexic. That always made for interesting spell-casting.

  So, she wrote it all down, but then, she'd forget where she wrote it or she just lost the stupid piece of paper altogether.

  This was bad for a witch.

  Very bad.

  So bad, her parents had sent her to Castoffsphere. Where misfits were shipped off to ... well, to learn not to be such misfits ... Which rather made her an outcast amongst all the other witchie girls in her witch community.

  Well, bibbedy-bobbedy-boo. Screw them and screw making friends with the in-witch crowd. She didn't need them. She liked it here on Castoffsphere. Felicity didn't care if they made fun of her back home or even when they pretty much outright mocked her. She didn't.

  But on the off chance that she did, someday she was going to conjure up one hell of a whammy and make them all envious. So there. She mentally stuck her tongue out at every single witch who'd made fun of her since she was little and realized she wasn't like all the other witches.

  Until that highly unlikely, auspicious occasion occurred, Felicity was going to clean up this mess and she'd do it with her cleaning spell, if she could only remember the part about the broom.

  The last time she did the cleaning spell she said something wrong and ended up with a car in her living room. Zoom-zoom.

  Rico meowed hungrily at her, twirling his tail around her ankles.

  "All right already. Lemme see what I can dig up. You've been off-worlding. Surely they fed you there? And then, I've got to clean up this mess."

  Digging around her kitchen cabinets, she fished out a can of tuna for Rico. Setting it on the counter, Felicity wiggled her hips. The can's top automatically popped open and hovered over the garbage basket, neatly dropping in. Breathing a sigh of relief, she smiled absently. The simple spells that required little or no memorization were the easiest.

  She just had to be really careful where she wiggled. It got ugly if she was at a Can-Can sale in the grocery store...

  Rico purred gratefully and Felicity set about the task of cleaning up the mess she'd made. Would she ever get this right, she wondered as she swept the last of the ficas from the floor. Felicity had been in Castoffsphere for almost a year and she was still failing “Spell Casting for Dummies” by a mile and the way she was going, there was no way she'd ever get her graduate level broom.

  Eyeing her own decrepit broom in the corner of the room, Felicity frowned. If she didn't get a new one soon, her suspension would go and then she'd really be shot down.

  Her parents specifically told her there would be no more money until she had at least passable grades. Easy for them to say. Did they have any clue how difficult this was? Magic came like breathing to them ... Hers came in short gasps or, more commonly, in one long, disastrous exhale.

  Her exam was coming up and if she didn't produce something spectacular, it was over. She'd be shipped off to an alternate universe to be like the head lady. She bit her lip. Maybe she could aspire to become “head fry lady."

  Felicity groaned. There had to be a way. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life not earning her place in the family.

  She needed the whammy of all whammies and she needed it soon.

  * * * *

  As Felicity entered the Black Sheep Bar, she paused, looking around the parking lot for Lila's scooter. Today was Lila's big day, her exam for “Flying: A Natural Extension of You” and seeing her scooter meant it must not have gone well.

  Well, shit. Lila would be in a crappy mood, but it also meant she'd be around a little longer, thereby ea
sing Felicity's fear of being left here in this dimension alone.

  That is just awful. To gloat over your friend's misery? How could you, F?

  Oh, hell, that was just a shitty attitude. What kind of friend was she anyway? If it hadn't been for Lila, she'd be sunk in this dimension. Six solid months of Lila cheering her from the sidelines and the best she could do was be glad she still had her wheels.

  Squaring her shoulders, Felicity pushed the door of the pub open and slapped on the best “sorry you blew it” smile she could muster. Peering through the hazy darkness, she found Lila at the bar, hovering with a sputter of her wings over a large mug of beer. The dim aura of her glow, muted now by alcoholic consumption, was a fiery orange.

  Lila was snockered.

  She was always orange when she was drunk.

  Felicity strolled over behind her and deepened her voice. “Hey, mighty fine wings ya got there, good lookin'. Can I buy ya a drink?"

  Lila looked up, lost her concentration, sputtered and landed on the bar with a tiny thunk.

  Felicity quickly scooped her up in her palm, righting her. “Aw, hell, Lila, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

  Lila sat up with a wobble and hung her head. Her long, mint green hair fell to her waist. “I failed, Felicity. I got an F, for like fuck up. Or, fat chance you'll never fly, loser.” She hiccupped, her almond shaped, amethyst eyes wellingwith tears. “Why-y-y-y can't I fly?” Lila sobbed.

  Felicity's heart tugged. Lila had been the longest guest of their circle of friends on Castoffsphere. “I dunno, Lila. But, I do know, you're the prettiest fairy here on Loser Dimensions-R-Us."

  "Pretty—preeetttty?” she shrieked. Though her voice barely registered to most, Felicity heard it loud and clear. She cringed in sympathy. “Pretty? What will that get me? A little roll in the sack with some loser. And I do mean loser. Have you seen the size of a fairy's package? Oh-h-h ... What the hell is pretty going to do for me? I want to fly, F, F-L-Y! Do you hear me? Soar like a bird. Shit, I'd settle for flying the friendly skies like a seven-forty-seven!"

  Felicity set her down on the bar and shrugged her shoulders. “I hear you, but don't you think if I could help you I would? I can't even make something disappear without it registering on the Richter scale. So tell me, what went wrong?"