Looking at my beaten and battered friends, I shrugged and smiled. Zach winked. Zelda rolled her eyes and Mac gave me a hesitant thumbs up.
“Yes, Fate. We have a deal.”
Fate grinned and disappeared on the Winds of Change. Five seconds after she vanished, an exhausted Fabio poofed back.
“Zorro's good,” he said, looking around at the carnage and the new ocean on his property. “He's still weak, but he's going to be all right.”
My hand went to my mouth as a sharp sob of re-leaf left my lips. The news was beautiful.
Zach took my hand in his and pulled me close. He inhaled deeply and looked at everyone. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t have the words to explain myself, so thank you will have to suffice. Zorro and Willow have been my family—my entire world for a long time… and now our trio has expanded.”
I smiled my encouragement and squeezed his hand.
“I have a sister,” he said with a nod to Zelda then turned to Fabio. “I have a father and I have friends.”
“Dude, you fell in love with yourself waaaay faster than I did,” Zelda said, giving her brother a quick hug.
“Getting there,” he said. “I also have a mate that I would die for, but who I also want to live for.”
My heart skipped a happy beat. I knew I was glowing and that my head wreath was on blossom overload. “Back at you,” I told the love of my life.
Zach loved himself. He was finally free to love me, wholly and completely. I kissed him until my entire body buzzed with pleasure. I looked around at our smiling family and friends and blushed. “And I can't wait for us to start living… umm, a little more privately.”
Epilogue
My heart raced and my body tingled from head to toe. I struggled to catch my breath and couldn’t believe I hadn’t died of pleasure in the last three hours of aerobic sexual activity.
Zach was a freaking machine.
“Goddess,” Zach said, running his hands through his hair and smiling with smug male pride. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?”
“Better,” I said, cuddling up to him and running my hands hungrily over his muscular chest, wondering if he could do it again.
I mean, fourteen orgasms in three hours was pretty dang impressive, but as exhausted as I was, I wanted more. I would never get enough of my warlock.
“I love you, dryad,” he whispered, playing with my hair and pulling my very satisfied naked body closer.
“The feeling is mutual, warlock,” I replied.
Two weeks had passed since the slugfest, Zorro was back to his awesome self, the new musical had gone off with an insane bout of hilarious hitches, and I was in the arms of the man I loved. Plus, we'd finally gotten some of that privacy I'd been craving. Zelda and Mac had loaned us their Floating Nookie Hut for as long as we wanted it. The Floating Nookie Hut was a treehouse that Mac had built for Zelda to make up for her never having had a treehouse as a child. It was situated in a magical meadow surrounded by glorious trees and riotous beds of wildflowers. The lovely interior was one large open room dominated by a massive king-sized bed. It was light and airy and positively perfect.
We’d been holed up in the hut for three days and counting. I didn’t see us leaving for another few weeks.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” Zach said, tracing my lips with his finger.
“I can’t believe no one died,” I added with a giggle. “Did you see the look on Bob’s face when Sassy tried to eat his arm?”
Zach chuckled. “Sassy takes her acting very seriously,” he said dryly. “She claims she was performing in Canadian.”
“Thought she didn’t understand a word of Canadian.”
“My point exactly,” Zach said. “We’re lucky we have three healers in town. Zelda needed Fabio and me on this disaster. She would have been passed out for a month if she'd had to heal all the bites, bruises, amputations and head wounds on her own.”
“It was a dreadful choice of a show,” I said, laughing as I remembered Roger warbling a barely passable rap song about zombies gnawing on femurs. Half the audience left at that point, but Fate was delighted and that was pretty much all that mattered. She was the investor, after all.
Zorro had played Shaun in the interpretive dance version of Shaun of the Dead. Since he’d missed out on the debacle known as Jaws, he’d recycled his pink leather assless chaps and wore them with pride while hunting zombies, that was, of course, when he wasn’t displaying his prowess on the pole.
Bob had not only written the show, he directed it as well. Roger had composed the appallingly awful songs and did the choreography. It was outstanding that both of the men had day jobs. Their futures were not in the arts. But as Fabio had said, passion that outweighs talent can be beautiful. Fabio was correct. Sassy played most of the other characters and spoke in a different language for each one. It was mind-blowing and all kinds of wrong. It kept the audience scratching their heads in confusion the entire six hours of the show.
Thankfully, Zach and I had opted or rather begged to work on the stage crew. I was done with my acting career after getting booed by the cats as the sheriff in Jaws. Zelda flat out refused to be in the show but did agree to stand by as the magical medic.
That was necessary. It was a hot bloody mess.
Although, having the Tennessee Man-Titty Thespians show up for the opening night performance and leave positively pea green with envy made the entire shitshow worth it—even the gory parts. Bob was still on a high that would last a long time.
Zach kissed my neck and I wiggled with excitement. It was enormously clear that my warlock was ready to go again. I had very hard evidence pressed against my thigh.
“We kicked ass in couples therapy,” Zach said as his mouth moved from my neck a little bit lower.
“Yep,” I agreed, arching my back. “We were a one and done.”
“It felt great to hear Roger confirm my be-leaf that I’d learned to love myself,” Zach said, looking up at me. “Although, I didn’t need him to tell me. I figured it out myself.”
“You’re very lovable,” I told him. “And quite sexy when you're talking Puntreelish.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You’re ex-tree-mely lovable and sexy yourself.”
“Although, we should have pretended we had a few more issues. Maybe we wouldn’t have had to listen to Roger sing a medley of cannibalistic tunes from the show for the rest of the hour,” I pointed out with a wince.
“True,” Zach said with a laugh. “It was very…”
“Graphic,” I supplied. “Unappetizing and horrifying. I couldn’t eat for two days after that session.”
“Thank the Goddess we don’t have to hear anymore,” Zach said, pulling my very willing body on top of his. “I spoke with Sponge Bob.”
“You did?” I asked, surprised. Only dryads could speak to trees. Well, Zelda could, but they were her minions. “How?”
“It seems that when a warlock wants to mate with a dryad, her tree pappy sends a bit of magic his way,” he explained.
“Interesting,” I said, intrigued. “What did you talk about?”
“Well, after politely listening to tree puns for an hour and swearing I’d become fluent in Puntreelish, I asked his permission to make you my mate. Officially.”
Again, my heart raced. It was all so romantic. My parents were no longer on this plane. They wouldn’t ever be able to meet the love of my life. But I had a surrogate father who adored me. The thought that Zach respected my relationship with Sponge Bob made me love him even more.
Assjacket had accepted us just like Zach’s family had. And just like my family, Sponge Bob and the boys, had accepted Zach. We even made a plan to make Assjacket our home. My warlock was going into the healing business with his sister, and I was going to teach botany at the new Assjacket elementary school. And Zorro had plans to introduce the Assjackians to the magic of pole dancing and fainting goat yoga at the community center. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would put down
roots in such an enchanted place.
“And what did my tree pappy say?” I asked.
“He said that whatever made his little dryad happy made him tree-lighted as well,” Zach shared. “He then told me to make like a tree and leaf to go find his little dryad and begin our journey together.”
“He’s a good father,” I said with a happy sigh. “And speaking of good fathers…”
“Yep,” Zach admitted with a grin. “Fabio wins the category, too, along with being the most honest criminal and best pancake maker in the Universe. I almost called him dad the other day, but we were in public, and I know how he hates to get blotchy.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d be fine with getting hives over that one,” I told Zach. “Baba Yaga is something else.”
Baba Yaga and Marge had arrived back in Assjacket shortly after the slugs were gone for good. Madonna had taken a restraining order out on both of them. They were quite put out with the development. Zelda had gleefully pointed out that if they disobeyed the order, they’d land their asses in the pokey. Baba Yaga didn’t think she looked good in orange, so she decided that she liked A Flock of Seagulls better than Madonna anyway.
“I agree. Baba Yaga is a handful,” Zach said with a small shudder. “But Fabio adores her. And…” He grinned like a little boy.
“And what?” I asked, grinning, too, even though I had no clue why.
“And they’re moving.”
My smile turned to a frown. “Why are you happy your dad is moving? You’re still getting to know each other.”
“Not out of Assjacket,” Zach quickly said. “To a new house. Baba Yaga wants something a little more 80s. Lots of shag carpet, mirrored ceilings, built-in lava lamps and disco balls in every room.”
I wrinkled my nose and laughed. “Oh my Goddess, that’s horrifying.”
“Understatement,” Zach agreed with a grin. “But Fabio is all for it.”
“Still don’t understand why you're smiling,” I told him, admiring his beautiful face and kissable lips.
“Because Zelda and Fabio want Aunt Hildy’s house to stay in the family. Meaning…”
“Meaning they want you to have it?” I shouted, thrilled.
I adored the house. It was filled with magic and love.
“Us,” he corrected me. “They want us to have it. From your reaction, I’m gonna guess that you like the idea?”
“Love,” I said dreamily. “I love the idea. What about Zorro?”
Zach smiled. “Not to worry. Mac is building a guest house on their property for Zorro. He’s overjoyed. The interior is being done in pink leather.”
I winced and grinned at the same time. “All of it?”
“All of it,” Zach confirmed.
I sighed and laid my head on my mate's chest. Life couldn’t have turned out more perfectly. Well, maybe it could…
“You know,” I said, peeking up at my warlock through my lashes. I was aware I was blushing. I could feel the heat on my cheeks. “There are a lot of spare bedrooms in your… our new house.”
“Your point?” Zach asked, raising a brow and grinning.
“I just thought… you know…” I stuttered, feeling a bit over my head.
Zach kissed my lips hard and rolled me to my back. “I do believe I have the same idea,” he said, looking down at me with love and lust in his eyes.
“What’s your idea?” I whispered.
“I’d love to fill those rooms with little dryads who look just like you,” he said.
“And baby warlocks who look just like you,” I added as my need for him increased so much I felt dizzy.
Slowly leaning into me, Zach pressed his lips to my neck. “Would you like to get started on that assignment, Miss Teacher of Botany at the Assjacket School?”
“I would love to get started on that assignment, Mister Healer Warlock Partner to the Shifter Wanker,” I said, wrapping my arms around him like I would never let go. “Now,” I added urgently.
“Your wish is my command, Willow. Always.”
My warlock was true to his word. Ten times true to his word. My guess was that we would be adding to our new family unit in the next nine months or so.
And I couldn’t be more tree-lighted. Life had turned out tree-mendously. Not exactly tree-ditional, but we were not normal in the human sense of the word. My warlock had all of the qua-leaf-ications I’d dreamed about. He was perfect for me.
And I will guaran-tree that we will have our happily ever after. Because I will never stop be-leafing in my lover, and I know he will never stop be-leafing in me.
The End… for now
Robyn’s Book List
(in correct reading order)
HOT DAMNED SERIES
Fashionably Dead
Fashionably Dead Down Under
Hell on Heels
Fashionably Dead in Diapers
A Fashionably Dead Christmas
Fashionably Hotter Than Hell
Fashionably Dead and Wed
Fashionably Fanged
Fashionably Flawed
A Fashionably Dead Diary
Fashionably Forever After
Fashionably Fabulous
A Fashionable Fiasco
Fashionably Fooled
Fashionably Dead and Loving It
GOOD TO THE LAST DEATH SERIES
It’s a Wonderful Midlife Crisis
Whose Midlife Crisis Is It Anyway?
A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis
My Midlife Crisis, My Rules
SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES
Ready to Were
Some Were in Time
No Were To Run
Were Me Out
Were We Belong
MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES
Switching Hour
Witch Glitch
A Witch in Time
Magically Delicious
A Tale of Two Witches
Three’s A Charm
Switching Witches
You’re Broom or Mine?
The Bad Boys of Assjacket
SEA SHENANIGANS SERIES
Tallulah’s Temptation
Ariel’s Antics
Misty’s Mayhem
Petunia’s Pandemonium
Jingle Me Balls
A WYLDE PARANORMAL SERIES
Beauty Loves the Beast
HANDCUFFS AND HAPPILY EVER AFTERS SERIES
How Hard Can it Be?
Size Matters
Cop a Feel
If after reading all the above you are still wanting more adventure and zany fun, read Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures, the romance novel budding novelist Rena helped wicked Evangeline write in How Hard Can It Be?
Warning: Pirate Dave Contains Romance Satire, Spoofing, and Pirates with Two Pork Swords.
Note From The Author
If you enjoyed reading Your Broom or Mine?, 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
Want to hear about my new releases?
Visit robynpeterman.com and join my mailing list!
About Robyn Peterman
Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper. Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke (the drink not the drug LOL) with extra ice in a Yeti cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her super-hot hubby and collecting stray animals.
A former professional actress with Broadway, film and T.V. credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count.
Writing gives her peace and makes her whole, plus having a job where she can work in sweatpants works really well for her.
r />
Robyn Peterman, Your Broom or Mine?: Magic and Mayhem Book Eight
Your Broom or Mine?: Magic and Mayhem Book Eight Page 16