Oh, Cherry Ripe

by Claudy Conn

  Spanish red tiles made up its many tiered roof. A soft peach pastel colored the stucco exterior walls. Lush landscaping that incorporated palms and other tropical plants, made her home look as though it belonged in the tropics instead of Wrightsville Beach, NC.

  Everything about the house was invitingly warm and Exerilla smiled. She loved her home and was glad that it stood magnificent and strong against all storms. And it did.

  Nothing could touch it. Her mother was a powerful white witch and had enacted a protection spell right into its frame when it was being built.

  Her life was taking a turn and it should feel exciting, but something was missing. She knew it, but wasn’t sure just what that ‘something’ was.

  Her days at UNC at Wilmington were over. She wondered how it passed so quickly. Summer days were ahead. She sighed with a mixture of excited anticipation for the future and melancholy as she let go of the past.

  Yup, X told herself--too soon she would leave everything familiar and safe and head for New York to do her graduate work at Columbia. That in itself was a major deal. She had always been a homebody. Now here she was, going off to of all places, New York City.

  As she picked up her clogs and headed up the sandy slope for the long wide private boardwalk that led to the upper deck of her home, she suddenly stopped and listened. She listened carefully but could not quite hear the words, though she heard the tone.

  Something was wrong.

  She could feel a power sweeping into the house. It was like a dark wave; threatening and determined.

  Something dangerous had invaded.

  She closed her eyes—it was her father and he wasn’t alone.

  Galen Debbin was with him.

  X’s hands went to her head as her mother’s voice boomed with distress, Don’t come in here, Exerilla.

  No other person would hear her mother, not even her father; for their link was that of mother and daughter. No one could tap into their private link with any kind of magic—not even hard dark magic.

  Exerilla didn’t listen and her mother sensed it at once as her steps brought her closer. Once again, her mom shouted in her head, Don’t come here. Get in your car and just go! This time, her mom sounded desperate.

  Exerilla sighed heavily. She wasn’t afraid of her father. He would never hurt her. Why her mother had fixated on the belief that he would, was beyond her understanding. Even though her parents were separated, she knew that they still loved each other. The only thing standing between her parents was the dark magic he had surrounded himself with these last few years.

  She ignored her mother’s command and skipped up the double set of plank stairs to their large deck. She slid the glass doors open and stepped inside.

  “Mom?” she said out loud. She could see from her mother’s stance and the scowl covering her lovely face that she was extremely annoyed.

  Galen with that ever present and arrogant smirk on his too pretty face, stood next to her father, who had taken a step toward her with a warm and encompassing smile.

  She tried to lighten the mood with a bright tone, “Hi Dad, what’s up?” However, she saw what humans couldn’t see; the black aura surrounding Galen Debbin. Her father was also engulfed with the dark aura of tainted magic. She frowned. A hint of darkness had always edged the bright mystique that had been his in his early days, but she knew this meant he was giving in to his dark side.

  He had been immersing himself in black magic for years. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she could see that her mother was correct in saying that very little white light still glittered in his aura—scarcely a spark.

  When it came to her father, Exerilla was conflicted. She knew that he was a Dark Warlock. She knew the rumors surrounding her father’s coven would forever keep her parents apart. It would now come between them as well.

  His ethics were not her own, yet she loved him and trusted him. He had always been interested in her and what she did, yet he had never before interfered with her life.

  He stepped forward, his white blond hair inconsistent with the fact that he was deeply tanned. His sweet smile never spoke of the Dark Warlock he was becoming. His face was youthful because he was an immortal like her mother. His eyes however, had lost their sparkle. They were dark gray and cool though they seemed to soften when he looked at her. She felt something about him had drastically changed since she had seen him a month ago. He spoke to her softly, “X, my dear,” as he moved toward her and took her in his arms for a hug. She didn’t object, but she looked past him at her mother who stood nervously biting her bottom lip.

  “Papa,” she said. She didn’t want her mother subjected to any trouble so she politely looked toward her father’s companion. “Hello Galen. What brings you two here today?”

  Her father moved toward her mother and X watched warily as he took her mother’s hand and kissed it. She marveled at the viable emotion she sensed as she watched her father gaze into her mother’s deep sea green eyes; so much like her own. She thought it was sad that they should be apart.

  Without taking his eyes away from her mother’s he answered, “You daughter, you.”

  “Why?” she asked as her tongue moved to her inner cheek.? She had a bad feeling about this.

  Suddenly he snapped himself to attention and turned to gently indicate with a slight wave of his hand, “Shall I get to the point? Yes, I think so. Galen, as you know, is interested in courting you. I wish this to go forward as quickly as possible. I have, in fact, wished for it for quite some time.” He inclined his head, “Galen told me of his great affection for you a year ago, but I knew you weren’t ready. I gave you the respect of waiting until you finished your education. You had your bit of fun, but that time is over.” He opened his arms wide as though bestowing an enormous gift on her. She felt a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  “My interest in this daughter, is simple. I wish for the Debbin House to be joined with the Radley House. It will not only increase our powers as a coven, but as a family unit. It will combine all of our abilities in a way never imagined by any warlock or witch ever before. The two houses joined in this manner will make us virtually invincible.” He clapped his hands together. His smile was enormous as he added, “The children from such a match will have formidable magic—my grandchildren. Nothing could please me more.”

  Galen stepped toward her and unconsciously, she stepped backward. What the hell was this? Had she somehow fallen through a hole to another century? She was not going to take part in this marriage of convenience. She had known Galen a good part of her adult life and he had always displayed a partiality for her. She didn’t like him and she knew she couldn’t love him. Some women might find him irresistible, with his dark auburn hair and the peak it formed in the middle of his forehead along with his charming smile, but these masked his dark cold eyes. This is exactly what her mother had been warning her about, this day. She had laughed it off. She couldn’t believe her father could be so archaic.

  She could never consider Galen Debbin as a husband and her father couldn’t force her into such a match. She folded her arms across her middle and started to speak, but her mom interrupted her with a wave of her hand and said, “We are honored Harlan, my love, however, I don’t think our daughter was thinking of courtship or marriage at this stage of her life. You know that she has plans to go to New York in the fall and start working toward her Masters degree.”

  “I will never allow anything to prevent her plans for continuing her education,” her father said softly. “I see no reason why marriage should interfere with that.”

  “I am not interested in marriage,” X stuck in, thinking this entire conversation bordered on the insane. She had to do something quick.

  Her father looked serious as he raised an eyebrow. “No? Perhaps I speak of it too soon. There is no reason why you cannot go on a date or two and get to know one another.” He turned back to his wife. “You know Rachel, in the end she doesn’t have a choice. This is my will. They will
marry. I also believe that their union was predestined to be the most spectacular union of our kind. Because of my great affection for our daughter, I do not mind if she needs a bit of courting to feel more comfortable about it.”

  Her mother shot her daughter a meaningful look and said with the link that was theirs alone, don’t speak.

  “Of course,” her mother responded. “What happens if our daughter refuses to be married?”

  “For now, I only ask that she allow Galen to court her,” her father said sounding reasonable. Exerilla had heard him very clearly say that she actually had no choice. He was willing to bide his time, but only for a short while. She loved her father; though he had changed. He was no longer putting her needs first. She knew he was allowing her to think that he was reasonable by condoning a brief courtship. He wanted her eased into the situation, but in the end she could see that he meant this to go forward at all costs.

  “Of course, but today Exerilla and I have plans,” her mother said with a tentative smile. “Galen is welcome to come for cocktails with you tomorrow evening. Perhaps he can take X to dinner sometime after that.” She eyed her husband flirtatiously and Exerilla wondered what her mother was doing.

  Two things were off here.

  Her mother despised Galen Debbin. She would never let her go anywhere alone with him. He was not only a Dark Warlock, but ugly rumors abounded around him. Rumors called him a vicious murderer, who killed for the thrill of it.

  She wondered why her mother was so ready to accept the union.

  The second thing was the sorrow she saw in her mother’s eyes when she looked at her father. Her feelings toward him might have changed.

  Exerilla felt a wave of loss because she saw a dark force ever hovering about him. His stance was more aloof, even when he looked at her. His love for her and her mother was unshakeable. It was a viable separate entity and yet, she knew in that moment beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her father would not allow his affection to deter his purpose.

  This time, her mother meant to take her father on.

  Obviously, her mother was stalling for time. For what possible reason, she hadn’t a clue. She looked from mother to father and kept quiet. She would keep still now because there was no way in hell she was going to go to dinner or anything else with Galen Debbin, let alone marry him.

  “That is more than fair. I had expected our little X to put up a fight. She never liked being dictated to.” He smiled and Exerilla saw pride light up his handsome face. He had always called her X, just like her friends. He would tease her and tell her that she would always be his X-factor. She had never really known just what he meant by that, but she was now beginning to see. She was an answer to his need for power. That sudden realization hurt.

  She shrugged but gave him a half smile. “Yup, you’re so right; I don’t like being dictated to. I have known Galen a very long time, and I won’t insult him by refusing to have a few dinner engagements with him to see how we feel about each other,” she said, hoping her father would not see through her lie.

  Her father was all too pleased with the outcome of this initial meeting. He merely bowed in his old world style. He murmured that he adored her. With a sudden flick of his wrist, the dark cloud that delivered them into Exerilla’s home enveloped the two warlocks and took them away.

  Her mother grabbed Exerilla’s shoulders and said in a desperate tone, “Hurry, there is no time to waste!”

  All at once she realized what her mother was talking about. She had heard all about this earlier that week and had laughed it off. Now it was looking as though it might turn into a reality, but she wasn’t ready to accept it.

  She knew that her mother was only trying to protect her, but she just couldn’t comply with her wishes.

  She had her summer planned. She had a summer job lined up, and then Columbia in the fall. This wasn’t fair. There had to be another way.

  What her mother was asking seemed extremely drastic. It wasn’t as though she wanted her to go off on some summer vacation. She wanted to send her two hundred years into the past.

  She couldn’t give up all her future plans. She didn’t believe that her father would force her to marry Galen. She was sure she could get through to him. He loved her, she told herself. She would find the right moment to talk to him.

  “Yes, but…” she started to object.

  “Exerilla, listen to me. I prepared everything for you last year when I first discovered what your father was planning. It will only be a few months…”

  “No, I can’t. I won’t!” Exerilla frowned. “You are asking too much, Mom. I don’t think papa can force me to marry against my will. I am twenty-one and have reached my majority. I too have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “You have not reached your majority. Not until Samhain. It is then that you will reach your witch’s majority. Until then, your father can compel you to do whatever he wants you to do.”

  She couldn’t believe her father would use a compulsion spell to make her marry El Creepo.

  She couldn’t believe he would force her to do anything. He had never done so before.

  She had made up her mind that she would not go to England and she would definitely not be sent into the past.

  “No, Mom. I’m not going. I’m not doing this. I will handle papa,” she answered. None of this made sense to her.

  Her mother frowned, and suddenly surprised her as she ‘poofed’ off in a cloud of white mist.

  Here’s a sneak peek at Claudy’s newest paranormal romance,

  Netherby Halls (unedited)

  ~ Prologue ~

  Sutton Village, England

  1815

  SASSY WALKED THE short distance from the livery, where she left her cob horse and curricle, and made her way to the curio shop that also served as their village bookshop.

  The avenue was wide, and it was a busy time of the morning, nearly lunch. The road was bustling with people, horse-drawn wagons, and quite an impressive number of carriages of all sizes, age, and styles for their quaint village.

  The dust they kicked up didn’t do her well worn blue cloak any good. With a grimace she brushed and shook off some of the offending dirt as she made her way to the lead-paned window of Mrs. Plummet’s Curio Shop and stepped beneath the awning.

  A little bell announced her arrival, and a tall buxom woman looked up from the counter where she was arranging a stack of the new and latest novel that had only just come in. The woman smiled and welcomed Sassy. “Hallo, m’dear, and how is the vicar today?”

  Sassy pushed a stray hair away from her ear, adjusted her chip hat, and sighed as she gave Mrs. Plummet a warm smile. She had known her forever. “Papa is cranky today, I am afraid. He shooed me off and told me to come into town and purchase a book to keep me busy. He says I am always fussing about him, and he won’t have it.”

  Mrs. Plummet laughed and said, “Good then, Sassy love. If he is feeling feisty, perhaps we will have a small miracle and he will take a turn for the better.”

  Sassy almost released her pent-up emotion, but fought back the urge to dive into Mrs. Plummet’s arms and cry. She held herself in check and unconsciously rubbed the ring on her right hand beneath her glove.

  She couldn’t very well tell Mrs. Plummet the guilt she felt because, once again, she felt useless. She hadn’t been able to save her mother two years ago when she had suddenly fell ill and died within a week. What good was the power if she couldn’t rid the ones she loved of disease?

  Now her father was not getting any better, and not all the tisanes in the world were helping, not even those her mother had taught her to concoct had worked to do more than ease his discomfort.

  She picked up the latest novel by an author whose name she did not recognize and looked it over. “What do you think?”

  “I started reading it last evening … very … absorbing”

  “Right then, I’ll give it a try,” Sassy answered and fished in her knit purse for a coin. She shouldn’t be wasting her
father’s money on a book, but he had insisted, and she didn’t want him to worry about her. It was all he talked about these last few days—her future.

  She knew she was going to lose him … and her heart was being ripped to shreds at the thought. How could she do without him and his guidance, especially now?

  When her mother had passed, she was left to carry the burden of what she was alone, except for her father. He kept her secret even as he had kept her mother’s.

  Now that she had reached her majority, she was experiencing the ‘transition’; without her mother to advise her, only her father could help her.

  There was, of course, her mother’s family, but they had disowned her when she married her father so she could not turn to them, although, like her, they had the ‘power’.

  She set these disturbing thoughts aside as she took up the package Mrs. Plummet handed her and made her way outdoors.

  Before crossing the avenue, she meandered down the walkway, stopping to look in the window of the village dress shop. It was still there—a gown that had caught her eye the week before. It was breathtaking. Yellow and in the fashionable A-line, low cut, trimmed with Belgium lace, and much too expensive for her. She sighed as she turned away from it.

  Her own ensemble beneath the aged cloak though once a pretty shade of blue was becoming threadbare. She hadn’t thought much about refurbishing her wardrobe in the last two years. She had been devastated at her mother’s death, and then this year her father’s health had been dwindling … thus, socializing had been out of the question.

  The sound of laughter across the street caught her attention, and she glanced in the direction of the hearty noise.

  Two men stood at the curbing at the edge of the avenue, but only one of them stood out. It was as though the atmosphere around him glowed, and her heart actually did skip a beat and then made up for the offense by beating faster.

  His beaver-skinned top hat was set saucily on his head of black silky hair. His black cloak had been rakishly thrown back over one shoulder, revealing not only the cream silk lining but the breadth of his obviously muscular chest.