“I want you, Maisy, here, now,” he said, but she could tell he was asking.
“Yes,” she agreed and tugged on the strings of her cape until it fell away.
“This costume makes you look like a wet dream, but I’m afraid it has to go,” he said and extended his hand.
Before her eyes, his fingernails shifted into claws. Arthur walked her backwards to the bed, but before she could move, he, oh-so-carefully slid those sharp claws under the fabric below her breasts and sliced it down the middle. Then he peeled that too tight dress away, leaving her in her bra and stockings.
“I’m gonna unwrap you like my favorite piece of candy, baby, then I’m gonna devour you,” he pulled the cups to her black demi bra down and dropped to his knees suckling her breasts one at a time.
Maisy grabbed onto his shoulders for support. Nothing had ever felt like that. What started as a slow, teasing striptease, was now a full onslaught of sensation. Her blood was like molten lava, burning her alive in her desire for his kiss and touch.
“It’ mating fever,” he said by way of explanation, “deep down you and I recognized what we were to each other ten years ago in Barvale High.”
“I always had a crush on you, Arthur Lance,” she confessed.
“And I always wanted you,” he said and pressed his face into her belly, kissing her stomach and lower as he tugged off the stockings leaving her bear for his perusal, “fuck baby, you are so wet for me. Lay back and let me have you.”
Helpless to do anything, but obey Maisy laid down on the bed and spread her legs wide. The look in Arthur’s eyes was encouraging and worshipful. He whispered to her naughty words, bold empowering words of praise that had her draping her legs over his wide shoulders while he dropped open-mouthed kisses on her sex.
“Oh,” she moaned and writhed beneath his touch.
His tongue pierced her sheath while his hands held her down, and she loved every second of it. Pussy dripping, Maisy rocked her hips in time with his thrusts, loving the feel of the flat of his tongue as he licked her from her forbidden hole to her swollen clit. His skill was beyond her experience and sooner than she’d expected, Maisy fell apart beneath his lips and masterful tongue.
“I love your taste, baby, like honey and cinnamon,” he grunted and licked her one more time before sliding up her body.
“M’gonna claim you now, mate,” he said and his eyes glowed like black crystal in her room.
“Yes,” she said, wanting him more than anything.
The round head of his thick cock stretched her tight channel. Inch by glorious inch, he fed himself into her, and Maisy moaned as he filled not just her dripping pussy, but that absent place inside of her heart and soul that she didn’t even realize she was missing. Lifting up to meet his thrusts, she breathed heavy, moaning in satisfaction as he filled her. Every slide and move brought her closer to that pinnacle, but this time she wanted him with her.
“Arthur,” She said his name, noting the flare of his nostrils as he pressed in and out, swirling his hips, and digging his nails into her ass as he did so.
“I got you, baby, always,” he growled and rocked her body up and down in time with his, taking control of their lovemaking until she was mad with lust, and something more for the big Bear.
“Arthur, I’m close,” she said and raked her nails down his back.
The effect was almost instantaneous. Arthur threw his head back and roared, pushing deeper, and pressing his pubis against her mound, he touched that secret place inside of her that had her spiraling out of control. Maisy saw white stars explode behind her eyelids as she fell into oblivion only to be thrust deeper with an explosion of pain that turned into even greater ecstasy as his teeth sliced through the skin of her right shoulder.
Her sex contracted, squeezing his magnificent cock, milking him of all his seed as they both came to completion. Arthur seemed to follow her into the best orgasm of Maisy’s life. The heat of his seed filling her had nothing on the slow, deep burn of the mating mark he’d gifted her with. For the first time in her life, Maisy knew what it felt like to truly love and be loved by someone.
“I love you, mate,” he whispered into her ear before they both allowed exhaustion to take them.
Epilogue
“Hello, Mr. Daniels,” Arthur shook hands with the man nervously, as was to be expected considering he’d mated his daughter the day before.
Twice. And again that morning. And again in the parking lot of the mall after he’d bought her an engagement ring and some fried chicken for lunch. He cleared his throat before looking back at his new mate.
“What was that you said, Jitterbug?” Steve Daniels looked back at his daughter.
“Arthur asked me to marry him, Daddy, and I said yes. We were gonna head down to Atlantic City right after this, but I wanted to see you first,” Maisy showed her father the small emerald ring she’d picked out before they went to visit her father at the hospital.
“But what about me giving you away,” her father frowned, “is he making you do this?”
“What?” Arthur said, eyebrows raised sky high.
“Daddy! Be nice. No, he’s not making me do this. In fact, I think I am making him. Anyway, I want to do this today. Halloween has always been my favorite, but you are right. I also wanted you there, so I asked Dr. Cordoza and she said we could have the ceremony here,” Maisy bit her bottom lip which meant she was excited and Arthur’s heart swelled.
“But what about, I mean where will you live?” her father asked them and Arthur panicked. He didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t think about that at all.
“Oh, well, Daddy, uh, and Arthur, I was wondering if we could rent the mother-in-law suite from you for now? Then maybe we can build a house on that parcel of land you gave me as a graduation present?” she looked at her father then back at him and Arthur’s smile was so wide he thought maybe his face would split.
“Sounds perfect to me, baby. Anything you want.”
“Hell, girl, now I know why you want to marry him so fast,” Dr. Cordoza entered the room, “it’s time. He’s here and everything is ready,” she wheeled in the chair for her father and together, they helped Mr. Daniels into the chair.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Maisy smiled at him and his heart swelled with love for her.
It was amazing, but as real and lasting as anything he supposed. Call it mating fever, Fate’s design, or sheer dumb luck, he didn’t give a fuck as long as he had Maisy Daniels in his life from now till the end of time. He nodded at Marcus Devlin, his Alpha, who agreed to be their minister, newly licensed via the world wide web, of course.
The Halloween decorations were just perfect in his opinion, as was the beautiful lace dress in a pale yellow-orange color that reminded him of Fall that his Maisy was wearing. He couldn’t wait to peel it off her later. This was all still so new and exciting, but he had a feeling he would still feel this way after a hundred years with her at his side. By the time they both pledged their love and devotion to each other there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, and that included Arthur’s own dark eyes.
“I promise to make you the happiest woman in Barvale, Maisy Lance,” he smiled liking the way her new name sounded on his lips.
“I will be, as long as you’re mine, Arthur Lance. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Smart move, getting married on Halloween,” Marcus Devlin murmured to his wife.
“Yep. At least he’ll never forget their anniversary,” she said followed by a resounding smack.
“Ooof,” the Alpha rubbed his stomach where a moment ago his wife’s elbow had connected, and quite painfully too.
“Love you, babe,” Marcus mumbled, and judging from the squeak that came from Leya, he was guessing his Alpha’s mate just got her rear pinched.
Good idea, murmured his Bear.
The newlyweds giggled and kissed, then cut into the specially made cake that Bear Claw Bakery did up just for them.
&n
bsp; “I hope this cake tastes as good as it looks,” Maisy held the fork to his lips.
Her eyes glittered mischievously as she proceeded to gently smash frosting into his face. Arthur groaned, but smiled widely. More than thrilled with her playful side. His mate was something else indeed. To the applause and hoots of the small crowd that had witnessed their vows, Arthur pulled his new bride close to him.
“You tell me,” he answered her with a mock growl.
Then he did his new favorite activity. Arthur kissed her, smearing the sweet confection all over her lips as well. That was okay, more for him to lick off later.
The cake itself really was awesome. It was a perfect replica of Maisy’s favorite Halloween sign with a little extra. There was Goldilocks with a black bear in a field with a grinning jack-lantern at their feet. In bright orange frosting the words “hers to bear forevermore” were scrawled across the bottom.
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More Books by C.D. Gorri
Macconwood Pack Novel Series:
The Falk Clan Tales
The Bear Claw Tales
The Barvale Clan Tales
Purely Paranormal Pleasures
The Wardens of Terra:
The Maverick Pride Tales
Dire Wolf Mates
Wyvern Protection Unit
EveL Worlds:
The Guardians of Chaos:
About the Author
Hello!
I'm C.D. Gorri, Bestselling Steamy Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy YA Author, and Creator of the Grazi Kelly Universe.
I've always been an avid reader, and I have a profound love for books and literature. When I'm not writing or taking care of my family I can usually be found with a book or tablet in my hand. I live in my home state of New Jersey with my husband, our children, and our dogs, Dash and Chewie.
I'm a busy mom of three and finding time for leisurely reading is never easy, so I write stories that are fast-paced, yet detailed with satisfying conclusions. If I thought making time to read was difficult, I was in for a huge surprise when I started writing! But now that I started, I can't picture myself doing anything else!
I love writing powerful women and strong heroes who face relatable problems in supernatural settings! Read my books and watch my sassy, curvy heroines and sexy heroes find true love in one another.
Discover Werewolves, Bears, Dragons, Tigers, Jersey Devils, Lions, Witches, Romani, Lynxes, Foxes and even more Shifters and supernaturals in my PNR! Fated mates who find each other and always get their happily-ever-afters.
Want to know how it all began? Enter the Grazi Kelly Universe with Wolf Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel #1, my very first YA/Urban Fantasy book that sets the stage for the universe I write in. You can also start my PNR with the Macconwood Pack. Pick up Charley's Christmas Wolf today!
Thank you and happy reading!
del mare alla stella,
C.D. Gorri
Spell of Snow by S.J. Pierce
A Young Adult Paranormal Romance
Copyright SJ Pierce 2020
Edited by Laura Ranger and Steve Soderquist
For the broken.
~
“They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one.”
-Taylor Swift
About
Life can be a witch...
Six years ago, I discovered my powers - I can make flowers bloom. But in a world where anything magical is met with judgement and swinging from a rope, I have to be careful... until one day I wasn't. The Witch Hunters have been alerted, and now no one, including my loved ones, can save me.
My name is Rosanna Frey, Snow Queen of Ipswich, and this is my story.
Prologue
The Gallows
I’ve imagined a million times what it would be like right before you’re hanged—rope taut around your neck. Trembling like a leaf. Tears streaming. Life desperately flashing before your eyes in broken fractals; all the best and worst memories in chronological order.
But none of those daydreams were anywhere near accurate.
Numbness consumed me. If I was shaking or crying, I couldn’t tell. A self-preservation thing, to be sure.
Or maybe it was shock.
My brain didn’t register sound, my thoughts stationary.
Mouths opening and closing in front of me. Crying? Shouting. Everyone’s eyes jerked to the man beside the buggy I was standing on. He was reading aloud my crimes. Punishable by death.
Witchcraft.
I frantically searched the crowd for Jacob, my love. He didn’t come. He couldn’t bear to watch.
Some of them covered their eyes. Some looked away. Some watched on, eyes burning flames of hatred. Die, Rosanna! Satan’s seed.
Eyes screwed shut, my lips parted to release a scream, but the wood beneath my bare feet dragged away and I plummeted to my death with a soundless gasp.
Chapter One
Dead Girl Walking
I still remember the day my best friend witnessed my powers. One doesn’t forget something like that. It was the same day she turned me over to the Witch Hunters and my life changed forever. If I’d known Veronica was watching, I never would have done it. Not with the state of hysteria everyone was in.
Witches, a dirty word in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Or pretty much everywhere.
I didn’t blame her for turning me in, though. Not really.
Okay… maybe a little. A lot.
But it wasn’t what everyone assumed. I was a decent person. Never stole or cheated. Never laid a hand on anyone. And my gift was something incredibly non-threatening – I could make flowers bloom by waving my fingers over them. A talent I’d discovered when I was ten.
Six years ago.
How was that a bad thing?
It wasn’t a spell I’d learned or a spirit I’d conjured, it was a calling I had to set free, like an itch in need of scratching. A talent hidden in the deepest tapestries of my soul. In the place where love and kindness mended the folds of my heart seams. Sure, I might have been a witch. What else could I have been? But I was a good witch. I was sure of it.
They didn’t care. Veronica didn’t care. Or Liza or the Witch Hunters. I was different and an abomination, so they only wanted me dealt with in a way our judge saw fit.
Which usually meant swinging from a rope at the gallows.
That day, the day Veronica saw me, clouds covered the sky in a sheet of grey lumpy cotton, and the wildflowers in the field weren’t fully opening. I wanted a bundle on our table by supper. Liza, the woman who’d raised me, loved fresh flowers. And I loved her.
She’d taken me in when I was an infant.
The orphanage had told her my father never knew me, and my mother had died of diphtheria, but I was a quiet and pleasant child, and Liza could never carry.
A match made in adoption heaven.
She was a kind woman and deeply religious. A cross look or a defiant chin was answered with a paddle. “Spare the rod,” she’d say, “and I’ll have a heathen living under my roof.”
Gripping the flowers in my left hand, I scanned the field. No one.
Other than the rustling of field mice and caws of faraway crows, the air around me was stale and quiet.
Calm before the coming rain.
Focusing back on the flowers, I waved the fingers of my other hand over the petals, the familiar tingle in my fingertips weaving a web around them and spreading them wide. A burst of purple and yellow against a field of green.
My heart soared at the imagery. Using my gift made me feel whole. Happy.
Purpose-driven.
A gasp startled me, and I yelped. Dropped the flowers.
“Rosie?” Only a yard away, Veronica and her youngest sister sprang up from the protection of the grass, a dire look on their faces.
My stomach hollowed. “V,” I tried to say, but it stuck in m
y throat. I could only mouth her name. My eyes scanned over the carnage beneath me, the evidence – scattered wildflowers hanging awkwardly in the reeds.
She searched my face, a desperate hope I could logically explain what they’d seen. I searched hers back, knowing I couldn’t. It was an otherworldly thing.
“Witchcwaft…” her sister whispered, lisp and all.
I held out my hand. “No, I…” The words crumbled and blew away in the wind. There was no defense, other than what I’d been telling myself all these years— “I’m a good witch.” I think.
To witness me bloom the flowers was one thing, but for her to hear it from my mouth, that I was a witch, seemingly broke her from within; in the same places that had shattered when her mom had gone mad three years ago.
The victim of a witch, they believe.
Tears welled in her eyes. One spilled over and trailed along the curve of her cheekbone.
Silence fell thick and heavy between us. What do we say?
I turned toward the house. Toward Liza.
And before V planted her face in her hands and sobbed, she said through a tight throat, “I’ll give you ‘til nightfall before I tell.”
***
By the time I reached the house, my chest was heaving, legs wobbly, chestnut strands of hair falling from beneath my linen cap and matting to my clammy cheeks.
“Child,” Liza breathed. “What’s the matter?” She set the teakettle down so hard, some of it splashed from the end and onto her apron.
I gasped to catch my breath.
“And no flowers.” She folded my hands in hers, waited with pinched eyebrows for me to answer. “Did something happen in the field?”
I nodded, and suddenly, all the things I’d thought to say on the way here had dissolved. How would I begin to tell her what had happened? But it didn’t really matter, did it? The result would be the same – I was a dead girl walking. I was a witch, and V, my love’s sister, my best friend, was going to tell on me. And she had a witness.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 115