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Books of the Kindling
More Than Magic
Mostly Magic
Making Magic
One terrifying premonition brings them together. Another will threaten their future.
Mostly Magic
© 2014 Donna June Cooper
Books of the Kindling, Book 2
Do dreams come true? Dr. Daniel Woodruff hopes they don’t, because his dreams predict a devastating future for him, for those he loves—and for the planet.
His latest premonition, which blows a huge crater in his eroding sanity, holds a singular horror—the loss of a wife and unborn child. Yet another reason he can let no one into his chaotic life, least of all a perky, persistent investigative reporter he finds simultaneously frustrating and fascinating.
Mel Noblett leaves no stone unturned in her one-woman crusade to save the environment. When a whistleblower in Italy proves too frightened to talk, Mel turns to a fall-back lead, an extremely eccentric, beekeeping professor who might just make the trip worthwhile.
Despite their instant attraction, Mel is relieved when Daniel keeps her at arm’s length. After all, she has a secret of her own—one that makes her preternaturally good at her job. And, when Daniel’s terrifying visions prove cannily accurate and begin to revolve around Mel—it is a gift that could put her life in danger.
Warning: Reluctant seer of a bleak future meets petite force of nature who lights up the heart of his darkness. Where there’s smoke, there could be an unpredictable blaze of passion, but the rewards are oh, so sweet…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Mostly Magic:
“I need a gurney or a room or something, now!” Daniel walked through the glass doors into the ER carrying the woman in his arms. It wasn’t difficult. She felt far too small and fragile even bundled in all those blankets.
A burly man in scrubs came around the admissions desk. “Let me have her.”
“No. I’ll carry her. Point me to a bed,” Daniel insisted.
“Take it easy, fella.” The man waved his arms. “We can’t let—”
The double doors to the treatment area banged open and Beth Campbell came running out. “It’s okay. This is my neighbor, Daniel Woodruff.”
Daniel was relieved to see Beth’s familiar face as the burly orderly backed away.
“We’re ready, Daniel,” Beth said. “Bring her on back. Room 6. This way.”
“The contractions haven’t stopped,” Daniel said, trudging after her. “She’s only five months along, Beth. She started bleeding—”
“Let’s not panic. It could be a false alarm,” Beth said.
“It’s not a false alarm,” Daniel said. “It’s not Braxton-Hicks or anything like that. Grace said—”
“It’s all right, Daniel. I know. Lay her down and we’ll take over,” Beth soothed, patting the bed. The room was suddenly full of people as Daniel eased the woman onto the bed. She was still warm, still breathing. But she was limp and unresponsive, her face far too pale and sweaty. He leaned over to kiss her brow, but someone’s hand pulled him away. He was herded out the door as the professionals took over, bustling around her bed until he could no longer see her and the door swung shut in his face.
“Danny? Danny!” came a tinny voice from his hand. He realized he was still clutching his cell phone, still connected.
“Grace?”
“Yes, I heard. You got there in one piece.” Grace’s voice was thin and far away. “Take some deep breaths. The OB on call is in there.”
“Yeah. But she looks so pale.” He looked at the blood on his sleeve. “And she’s bleeding a lot.”
“She’ll be all right,” Grace said.
Daniel noticed that Grace didn’t mention the baby. “I know. She’s a tough little thing.”
“Yes, she is. We’re boarding in a minute. I’m…I’m so sorry I couldn’t get back in time, Danny,” Grace said. “So sorry.”
Grace could have stopped this from happening. Grace could have fixed it. But she couldn’t get a flight home fast enough.
“She was fine. We were so careful. She hasn’t been out of the house in weeks. We haven’t even let Jamie come around. How could she have—”
“You don’t know what’s wrong. Not yet.”
“What else could it be?” Daniel barked. “How is this thing being transmitted, Grace? Has anyone down there got a clue?”
“Maybe,” Grace said, but she didn’t sound convinced. Daniel heard the noise of an announcement and then the rumble of Nick’s voice in the background. “We’ve got to get on our flight. We’ll be there as soon as we can. I love you!” Her voice broke on a sob. “Tell her I love her. Tell her I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It’s okay, sis. It’s okay.”
“Hey, Daniel.” Nick’s voice came over the line, steady and reassuring. “Hang in there. We’ll be home in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Nick. Tell Grace it’s not her fault. She can’t be everywhere at once,” Daniel said brokenly. “I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t.”
“This thing is fast, Daniel. You couldn’t have. I’m trying to convince her that none of us are infallible, but you know how she is. You take care of yourself and that precious lady of yours.”
Daniel ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket, his eyes still on the door into room 6. He wanted to barge in. Whatever was happening, he wanted to hold her hand at least.
Instead he went to the sitting area in the hallway, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit. He put his hands up to lean against the wall, but it was too noisy around the nurses’ station to hear what was going on in her room. Much too busy. Looking at the haggard, pale faces of the staff, he wondered how many times they had seen this happen lately. How many miscarriages? How many preemies? Shaking his head, he glanced down at a stack of magazines on one of the chairs.
The Time magazine on top had a chart on the front of it. A simple line graph told the story—a stark red line sliding downward, labeled “Global Birth Rate”. He picked that one up and saw another beneath it with a cover photo of an empty crib. His vision blurred as he thought about the nursery at the old home place that they had almost finished decorating for the baby.
Why did Grace have to be away now? Of all days, why today? Nick had wrangled a meeting with some geek at the CDC, and that was saying something, given what was going on. But why today?
“Damn,” he whispered, closing his eyes, trying to make it all disappear.
I don’t want to see this.
He heard the door to the treatment room and opened his eyes.
The edges of his vision had gone dark, as if part of the hallway had vanished.
Shut it off now.
He blinked and tried to focus as Beth emerged, but his vision had narrowed until her face, drawn and sad, was the only thing he could see. As if a spotlight were focused on her face, and the rest was in darkness.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No!”
Shut it OFF!
Like a light going off, Beth’s face just blinked out.
There were voices in the hall outside his hotel room—loud and Italian—reminding him of where and when he was. He opened his eyes. Bologna. The conference. From the sounds outside, it was morning, but in his room it was pitch-black—again.
“Damn.”
He wiped his hand across his face and it came away wet. He could still feel the strain in his muscles from carrying her into the ER, and there was a hollow pain in his chest when he thought about their baby.
It was one thing to dream about fruitless trees and blasted fields, food shortages and a slow slide into extinction, but this nightmare promised an apocalypse that was far from slow. This plague, whatever it was, was devastating and very
personal.
The first time he had this dream, he had thought it was Grace in his arms, losing her precious Lily. But it wasn’t. This time he was on the phone with his sister, and she was in Atlanta. So, if it wasn’t Grace…
There was no one in his life, and there would never be. It couldn’t have been his wife in his arms. It couldn’t have been his child.
A normal nightmare. Just like everyone else. Cooked up by his subconscious. Or maybe too much sambuca in his espresso last night. Horrible, but not prescient. A nightmare, that’s all.
But his arms still ached with her warm weight. His heart was still raw from the terror he had felt for her and for their baby. The feeling of loss was real and potent. And, most telling of all, he was blind, again.
Damn.
Only a real look at the future ever left him groping in the pitch-blackness like this. As he waited impatiently for the dark to ease into murky gray, he grasped for the details, desperate to remember when and who, but the dates on those magazines had already slid away from him into so much smoke, along with the face of the woman he’d held in his arms.
The toughest battle he’s ever faced is convincing her she’s the queen of his soul.
The Wizard King
© 2014 Dana Marie Bell
Heart’s Desire, Book 3
Gareth Beckett takes the wizard throne in three days, and the woman who stole his heart is missing. Hoping with everything in him that it will call her back to his side, he casts the Beckett mate spell.
One minute, Genevieve Godwin is knocking on Gareth’s door to tell him she’s had a vision warning of a threat to his life. The next, she’s pinned to his sofa, trying to explain her recent absence to one very irate werewolf wizard.
Ever since Gen was forced to use her warlock powers to save him, he’s barely made eye contact. And now he wants her to be his queen? She’s a Hecate’s Own, not a princess. Her place is on the trail of evil—especially her own brothers—to bring them to justice, not sipping tea and making small talk.
Gareth is determined to keep her at his side, and not only to keep her safe. Between scheming courtiers, the threat of the Godwin brothers and Gen’s insistence that she be allowed to continue her work as one of Hecate’s Own, Gareth is about to lose his mind. It will take a powerful combination of witch, wizard and warlock to stop the magical coup d’état that could destroy them all.
Warning: This title contains explicit sex, graphic language, and a king who can’t live without his queen.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Wizard King:
“Oh, shit.”
Gareth grinned as his mate’s eyes went wide, her lips parting as she clutched the Beckett ring in her hand. He quickly covered her clenched hand with his own, completing the circuit.
He could feel the spell settle inside him as warmth flowed up his arm, twining around them both like a sleek silken rope, binding them together for all time. Heat raced through his system, filling him with the desire to take the next step, to take her and bind her physically to him.
The last step would place the shadow wolf on her shoulder, marking her as the chosen mate of a Beckett. If Gareth had his way, that mark would be there today. But unless she fully accepted the mating he could chant the last bit of the spell until the universe ended and her shoulder would remain distressingly blank.
So Gareth put aside casting the rest of the spell, knowing full well she was hesitating, intent on leaving him. His wolf howled in protest, demanding he claim her, keep her chained to his side.
Gareth would do what he could to accommodate its wishes. The thought of Gen running back out of his home to confront her brothers gave him hives.
“What have you done?”
Gareth growled out loud. Instead of horror, or sadness, or even confusion, Gen was…
Was leaning toward him, her pupils dilated, her lips wet and inviting.
She was aroused.
So instead of answering her question, Gareth did the only thing he could do, that wolf and man would allow. He accepted her unspoken invitation, kissing her with all the longing he’d felt since the moment she disappeared.
Whatever he’d done, however he’d driven her away, he’d regret for the rest of his life. Once he figured it out, he’d never do it again. She’d know she was wanted, was needed more than breath.
Whatever it turned out to be.
But that was a question for another time. Now the most important question he had was whether she was a screamer or a moaner.
He’d never understood how someone could say that another person tasted like sunshine, but that’s exactly what Gen tasted like: happiness and warmth and everything good. She tasted sweet, like she’d been sucking on a hard candy, and Gareth drank her sweetness down. He’d been starving for her, and now he was going to wolf her down.
He almost laughed at that thought. No pun intended.
She whimpered, collapsing against him, trusting her weight to him. Gareth wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he plundered her mouth. Her total surrender to him, the way she clung to him, soothed the snarling beast inside him. Alpha that Gareth was, he needed that, to know that as powerful as Gen was, she was willing to give in to him.
But Gareth should have known better. His Gen didn’t stay passive for long. Soon she was clawing at his shirt, tugging it up to caress bare skin, her nails leaving little trails of fire as she scored him, marked him in her own way. He hissed as she broke skin, drawing blood, the scent making his wolf wild.
Just a few steps, and he’d have her. A few steps, and they collapsed together onto his velvet sofa. Gareth thrust his hips against her, moaning as she trembled beneath him.
“Gareth?”
He had no idea what expression he had on his face, but Gen’s eyes went wide. She tilted her head, baring her neck to him, that long, slender line and smooth, creamy skin tempting him as nothing else in the world could. The need to bite down on the fleshy part of her shoulder, right where neck and shoulder met, was almost overwhelming.
Gareth growled, pleased at his mate’s show of submission. He longed to allow his fangs to descend, to take that tender flesh between his teeth and mark her forever as his. He shuddered with the need to chant the last bit of the spell that would bind them together for the rest of their lives, marking her forever his.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bite her yet, couldn’t chant the rest of the spell. She hadn’t fully accepted him. So Gareth, despite his aching gums, despite the whining of his wolf, pulled back from that tempting flesh and instead sat up. He ripped his shirt over his head, smiling when her breath caught.
He’d bite her when the time was right, take her blood into him, chant the last of the spell to mark her forever as his.
Only when it was time.
But for now, he’d do everything he could to chain her to him without it.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Making Magic
Copyright © 2015 by Donna June Cooper
ISBN: 978-1-61922-584-8
Edited by Noah Chinn
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing
, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Making Magic: Books of the Kindling, Book 3 Page 33