by Gwen Knight
Mitch brushed his lips her cheek, and then whispered in her ear, "Relax, Brianna. I won't do anything you don't want me to."
"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better," she stated, becoming acutely aware again of her nakedness under her robe as heat pulsed through her core, moistening her with desire.
"Now, why are you out in the woods in the middle of the night buck naked? I can't get that image of you out of my mind," he said, sucking in his next breath with a hiss as he pulled her more firmly against his hard chest.
She forced her pinned arms to her sides, allowing his jean-covered hardness to touch the skin of her stomach where her robe now parted slightly.
"I’m Wiccan, and I’m celebrating the Esbat of the October full moon," she declared as she dared to shift her hands onto his hips as she spoke. She liked the way they felt against one another, bodies touching intimately in several curves and crevices.
"I like holding you, and I’m thrilled that you’re not pulling away," he confessed.
"Then it doesn't matter to you that—"
He pressed his lips to hers, his kiss interrupting her question. He penetrated her lips with his tongue and swept it over hers, tasting her and sending a chill racing down her spine.
"That you are a witch? No, you can explain more about that later. All I can think about now is getting my hands under your robe."
She smiled, elation spreading all through her body.
"Then touch me," she said, withdrawing from his embrace. She stepped backward, bringing her hands up to grasp the edges of the robe, pausing only for a single breath before she slid the material off her shoulders let her robe cascade to the ground again in a dark puddle at her feet.
He didn't immediately come to her. First, he slowly unclothed himself, barely taking his eyes from her body as he toed off his shoes, slipped his shirt over his head, and then carefully worked his pants down over his thighs.
She gave into the heady sensation of being exposed to him. The thoughts she'd secretly had of them together over these past months welled up within her as he stepped close and brought his palms to cup her breasts, caressing her erect nipples with his thumbs. He kissed her briefly again before cradling her body to his and guiding her down to the ground to rest upon their discarded clothing. Leaves crunched and slim branches cracked beneath them as he spread her thighs apart with his knee and settled himself between them.
"I feared this moment would never happen," he gasped just before his thickness entered her.
"Anything can happen under the full moon," she breathed out on a sigh as he buried himself deep within her heated core.
Ever since she was young, Kiki Howell has loved to listen to a well-woven tale with real characters, inspired plots, and delightful resolutions. Kiki could spend hours lost in a book, and soon she knew that creating lives, loves, and losses with just words had to be the greatest thing that she could do.
Kiki has had over fifty stories published with three novels hitting Amazon Bestsellers lists in categories like Paranormal, Suspense, Occult Horror and Witch & Wizard Thrillers. She’s won awards like being chosen as an Ohioana Book Festival author along with having several shorts win writing contests.
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Ms. Gina Kincade has been penning sensual stories since she was seventeen years old. Her first and second traditional publications were erotic short stories in a well-respected men's magazine under an alternate pseudonym.
She writes everything from contemporary mainstream romance, to high heat M/F, M/M, Ménage, BDSM, and fetish. Her evil little vampires and were-creatures will rip out your heart without thinking twice and then engage in steamy, explicit sex scenes.
Gina writes under a total of five pseudonyms to-date in other genres, including YA and children's.
A busy mom to three children, she lives in her wild household of two rambunctious dogs, a devoted, loving cat who believes herself to be royalty, and twelve crazy little chickens. She loves healthy home cooking, gardening, warm beaches, fast cars, and horseback riding.
Gina is also the C.E.O of Naughty Nights Press, a quality publisher of erotica, contemporary romance, and paranormal fiction.
Ms. Kincade's life is full, time is never on her side, and she wouldn't change a moment of it!
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So It Begins
by Phoenix Johnson
Caleb walked the familiar route delivering letters and parcels, whistling a jaunty tune and waving at people as he passed them by. His song wavered and his step faltered for a moment as he glanced at the house he now stood in front of. Hilana Moriarty had recently moved to Salem and took an instant liking to him. He had gently turned down her advances, but the strong willed woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. A few weeks after fending her off, he was now hesitant to linger by her mailbox lest she notice him.
He’d heard the rumors about her. This was Salem, after all, in a time where, thankfully, witches were more accepted in the community. His mother, Lenora, had been a powerful witch, second in charge of the local coven, though she had recently passed away. Caleb himself had a natural gift with foodstuff, as well as detecting power within people, both gifts he attributed to Lenora’s side of the family. But this young woman didn’t feel like the women from his Mama’s coven. There was a dark, oily feel to her aura. And even if there wasn’t something sinister about her, there was only one woman he had his eyes on.
Oh, he was too shy to act on his feelings. Morgan was set to be elected as the new leader of the Coven, while he was simply a mailman who had a way in the kitchen. He wasn’t good enough for her. No, he was satisfied to just deliver her mail and chat inanely about the weather and glean what tips he could about basic magic, mostly to enjoy the spark in her eyes as she openly discussed her craft. She was beautiful when she talked about magic. He was lost in a spell of his own heart, completely enamored by the powerful witch who only saw him as a friend.
Movement behind a curtain caught his attention, and he hurriedly stuffed the letters in the mailbox before moving to the next house, hoping Mrs. Laskin was out in her front garden so he’d have a reason to ignore Halina. Just as he knew what good witches were capable, so too did he know what evil they could conjure if they were crossed.
Caleb heaved a sigh and smiled as the old woman waved at him from her porch. Relief washed through him like a cold wave. He threw a glance over his shoulder and noticed Halina’s face in the window. Her brow was furrowed in a deep frown. He simply tapped the brim of his hat in greeting as he moved along, continuing along his route.
***
Hilana glared as Caleb scurried away, not giving her a chance to call out. She would make him hers, or make sure no one else would ever want him. They were in Salem, mecca for witches in North America. The very air was saturated with power, augmenting her own magic until she was buzzing.
Caleb had caught her eye only a few days after she had moved in. He was young and handsome, shy yet not awkwardly so, with a cheerful smile and gentle charm that captivated the elderly women on the street. At first, she had only watched him, the cogs in her head turning as she devised how best to approach seducing him. While he had no real social status within town, there was an aura about him that called to the witch within the woman. She hungered for him, almost to the point of a physical, painful need.
When she had finally made the approach, his quiet demeanor only stirred the flames of her desire, a heat that soon turned to scalding anger as he gently turned her down. Hilana had played it cool, not wanting to scare him off. Caleb had only said he was unable to show her around town right now. So she spent a couple weeks of meeting him at the mail box where she’d flirt mercilessly, weaving tendrils of pheromones and suggestion around her words. Somehow, when other men would have fallen at her feet, begging to be hers, Caleb simply shifted his weight, clearly eager to move along.
She was in
furiated. The more he resisted, the more she needed to dominate him, make him crawl for her and lick her boots. He was simply a man, a tool for her to use as she sought dominion over the town, and, by extension, the coven of witches she had yet to muscle in on. They would all bow to her and call her Queen. This she vowed once more as she watched Caleb continue on down the street. He would be the first. She just needed a different approach.
***
A couple mornings later, as Caleb awoke from a fitful night’s sleep, something felt wrong. He couldn’t quite place what was amiss, and the elusive answer had him short of breath as panic took hold, his heart pounding in his chest. Caleb’s body jumped to the flight instinct, but his mind could not decipher why, cobwebs seeming to fill his head, slowing his wits and focus.
Chilly air brushed his bare torso, sending goosebumps racing across his skin. With a shiver, Caleb put the oddness down to an oncoming cold. Winter was still a couple months away, but the bite in the wind seemed to suggest it would be here early.
A peculiar smell drifted to him from across the room. It had strong scents of lemon and vinegar, and undertones he couldn’t quite name. It struck a chord of memory, buried deep within his muddled mind, but for the life of him he could not remember why it was familiar. It did draw his attention to the window, however, which was open a fraction. He could have sworn he’d shut and latched it last night before he climbed into bed. Caleb shook his head as he stood to cross the room. Peeking out of the curtains, the front yard and street looked normal. Nothing was out of place out there. The normalcy of the world, while something within him just felt wrong, sent chills down his spine. There was foul play of the magical sort, he just didn’t know how it would manifest itself.
***
A week had passed since he had woken to the scent of lemon and vinegar drifting from his open window. Nothing overly untoward had happened, except for a few missing letters and parcels. It happened occasionally, so he hadn’t given it any mind until he noticed how light today’s mailbag was. As he approached Hilana’s street, however, he noticed a group of residents gathered in Mrs. Laskin’s front yard. Caleb frowned as a sense of dread settled in his belly. There was no mail for the first few houses, nothing for Hilana, so he approached the crowd. A couple of people were casting glances over their shoulders as they all whispered and murmured to each other. A growing unease within him caused Caleb’s step to falter, and he stopped altogether when Mr. Lewis from across the street pointed at him and call out.
“Here he comes, now’s our chance.”
Part of him wanted to run, though where to he didn’t know. He briefly considered hiding at Morgan’s house one street over. The instinct to run wasn’t a strong enough one, however, so he continued on towards the mob. He studied the faces before him, all angry, and noticed everyone on the street was here, everyone except one, who was conspicuous in her absence. He glanced over his shoulder at the imposing house expecting to see a flutter of curtain giving away Hilana’s position, but he was disappointed. Suspicion raised its ugly head, and he began to ponder on everything that had happened over the past week. Was it all minor occurrences, or was there something sinister at work, something involving the woman who had failed to gain his attention?
By now, he was in among the angry residents, and noticed Octavia, the current leader of the local coven. She was an extremely powerful witch, terrifyingly so, yet she was the kindest, sweetest person he had ever met, besides Morgan. With her was her young daughter, Siobahn, an adorable little girl who looked little like her mother, but instead got her fiery red hair and emerald green eyes from her Irish father, rest his soul. Octavia gave him an encouraging smile, while Siobahn serenely dipped her head in acknowledgement. It always unnerved him how she seemed so much older. There was a well of power behind those young eyes, deeper than any witch he’d ever met had possessed. She would either make a great leader, or a terrifying threat, when she came of age.
Even with that thought in mind, however, knowing he had the quiet support of these two witches, he felt calm as he approached the center of the gathered people. He didn’t know why they were gathered, but he knew he soon would.
“What do you have to say for yourself, son?” Mr. Lewis had clearly been appointed voice of the crowd.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what is going on?”
Heated murmurs resumed behind his back until Mr. Lewis raised his hand, gesturing for them to hush.
“You mean to say you’ve no idea why, for the past week, mail has gone missing? Why, what is delivered has symbols of evil on the envelopes?”
Caleb frowned as the man continued.
“Is this some kind of joke, or are you lashing out in mourning for your mother? We all know she was of Wiccan faith. We never harassed her, despite the troubled history Salem has had regarding witches.”
His face flushed hot as anger rose within him. Caleb cast a glance at Octavia. He knew the coven was careful, not practicing actual magic around non-witches, so he hoped she could give him an answer for what was happening. All she did, however, was minutely shake her head. She either didn’t know, or couldn’t speak about it here.
“I honestly don’t know what is going on, sir. I haven’t defaced mail, and I didn’t think there was that much of a slump in letters and parcels. Not until today, my mailbag was almost empty when I picked it up this morning.”
Caleb noticed the glances some people were giving each other. It was his word against overwhelming evidence. This didn’t look good for him at all.
Mr. Lewis stepped up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Caleb, we know it can’t be easy to lose your only living family member. But if you were having a hard time, you should have taken time off. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to mention this to your boss.”
“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind? I swear I didn’t have any hand in whatever is going on.”
The older man sighed. “If it was a simple matter of a misplaced letter here or there, we could brush it off as usual mailing error. But with so many missing, and the presence of those symbols, when no other postman has such issues…”
Caleb shook his head. He had no idea what was going on, except that this stunt was going to get him fired. His boss had always had it in for him, ever since he had found out Caleb’s mother was who she was. He was an astoundingly conservative man, one who frowned upon anything out of his ideals, and Lenora’s Wiccan faith, as well as her raising Caleb as Wiccan, made the man turn purple. Discrimination laws meant he couldn’t fire Caleb simply because the man didn’t like Lenora, but he’d been trying to cause trouble ever since. Now, he would finally get his chance.
Nausea swept over him as he faced defeat. Caleb hung his head and quietly walked out of the crowd. He knew he should finish his route, but he didn’t see any point when faced with so much anger and distrust from the people. As he once again passed Hilana’s house, he heard her call out from her porch, asking what she had missed. He didn’t even look up, just kept walking.
When he heard footsteps on the pavement behind him, hot anger filled him again. He was certain Hilana was the one behind it, though he had no way to prove it without risking the coven. Caleb didn’t want to be the reason they faced persecution again. So, once the footsteps sounded close enough, he swung around as words of venom sprung to his lips. The appearance of young Siobahn shocked him out of his rage.
“Mamma knows it’s the new bitch witch behind your bad luck, Caleb. The coven is going to confront her tonight, and I’m to tell you to stop by the bakery once you’ve taken your bag back to the post office.”
The young girl’s gaze held him still, quiet. She laid her hand upon his arm, and an overwhelming calm washed through him. Yes, she would either be a great leader for the coven, or a terrifying enemy. But he couldn’t care about that right now.
“I don’t need bread, so I don’t know why-“
“Don’t argue, Caleb. Just do as you’re told.” Siobahn smiled at hi
m, her eyes twinkling. Before he could respond, she turned around and ran back to Octavia, standing away from the crowd now, watching him. Once Siobahn reached her, the coven’s matriarch lifted one hand just enough for him to see, before grabbing her daughter’s hand and walking across the street to their home.
***
She was sound asleep, dreaming of Caleb, when a powerful presence snapped her awake. There was someone here, waiting; someone with an immense magic that made her stomach quiver and her skin crawl. If she’d been less attuned, she would have naively hungered for that power, but there was a taste there she couldn’t ignore. A taste of fury held back, a tempest waiting to be unleashed. Hilana gathered her bedsheets around her as she brought her knees up to her chin. The presence was in her room, and she feared speaking, lest it attack.
Silence stretched on for so long, she wondered if whatever it had been had, in fact, left. Hilana shifted to switch on the lamp when a somber voice startled her.
“I don’t know what you planned for Caleb. Just know that, while you’re in my town, you have to answer to me and the coven. No one wields power in Salem without us finding out, and no one strikes against one of mine, witch or otherwise, without punishment.”
“I-I,” she stammered, trying to defend herself, but to no avail. She was struck mute with a flash of yellow light.
“Hecate is our Goddess, and she does not take kindly to anyone thinking themselves as above her or us, her acolytes. You are welcome to stay in town, but you are to stay clear of Caleb. He is a gentle soul, not deserving of your revenge spell.
“Besides,” the disembodied voice wavered, as though laughing at her expense, “it backfired on you. While you clearly intended for it to push him towards a sympathetic ear once he was fired, my own and I were able to usher him straight into something more suitable for him. You ended up doing him a favor, and losing any chance with him in one fell swoop.”