SHIVER: 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror

by Liv Morris

  “We just got here, don’t lose faith yet.” She took my hand and led me inside, where the crowd filled the dark, paneled grand foyer and music pulsed from multiple speakers. “Let’s find the bar,” she shouted.

  I allowed myself to be led deeper into the maze of hallways, feeling the urge to leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind me to find my way out again. We passed open doors into rooms that might be called studies or dens, each filled with a random assortment of costumed partygoers. Sexy bunnies chatted up rotting zombies while doctors flirted with sexy nurses. Hamilton was there dressed as a pimp, complete with hideous purple zebra pimp hat. Gross. If this love spell and magic thing did really work, I planned to buy a spell to give him boils. Or make his dick shrivel up smaller, if that was possible. He didn’t have the cock to back up his cocky attitude.

  After asking a hobbit about the bar, we stepped outside on a large back terrace overlooking the dark beach and black water beyond. A huge bar—filled with bizarre looking jars of smoking potions—stood off to the left. The crowd was only a few people deep when we joined the line. I scanned the space for a familiar tall, lanky form with pale hands and long fingers while Sam chatted up a sexy Tardis in line ahead of us. Still no sign of our hosts.

  “What’s your potion tonight?” a familiar voice asked.

  My head whipped around so fast my witch’s hat almost flew off. Andrew stood behind the bar in a suit and trench coat.

  “Maddy?”

  “Andrew? Or should I say, Dr. Who?”

  “Who?” Sam asked.

  “He’s Doctor Who,” the sexy Tardis scoffed at us while tilting her cleavage in Andrew’s direction. The fact she had cleavage while dressed as a blue British telephone booth earned her bonus points for execution.

  Andrew’s eyes widened and he averted his eyes as fast as possible.

  “I heard you the first time and that’s why I asked who?” Sam said.

  “He’s Who,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “I’m Who,” Andrew said, laughing.

  “Sam, his costume is Doctor Who, from the show of the same name,” I explained.

  Sam’s head ping-ponged between us like she was watching a tennis match. “Oh, one of those geeky shows you watch. Explains the coat.”

  Andrew scowled at her. He turned to me and asked, “And what are you? A sexy bee?” His lips curled with a grin.

  “Ugh, no. I’m—”

  “She’s bewitched!” Sam blurted out, still extremely pleased with her idea.

  Andrew smiled and leaned across the bar. I mirrored him, moving closer so he could speak directly in my ear. I may have hip-checked the Tardis out of the way on accident. Oops.

  “You’ve bewitched me, heart and soul,” he said, quoting Mr. Darcy. I nearly swooned, and did in fact sway on my ridiculously high heels.

  I blinked a few times as he smiled and stood to his full height. Bells tinkled and my eyes sought out their source, but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind, “You’re eyes are different. They’re blue. Or gray.” They reminded me of someone else’s eyes, but I couldn’t place them.

  He stared at me for a few seconds. “They’re contacts. You like?” He batted his ridiculously long, dark lashes, rendering me speechless for a moment.

  “Maddy?” he asked.

  I gave him a shy smile. “I do, they’re very pretty, but I miss your glasses.”

  “Good to know.” He grinned at me. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, what’s your potion?” He pointed at the labels on a row of enormous glass jars.

  Number nine looked pink and much less scary than the black number thirteen or the milky green number six. “Number nine, please,” I said.

  “Excellent choice,” Tate said, appearing from out of nowhere. He was dressed in all black with a long black cape; his dreads were pulled back and tucked under a tall top hat. “The love potion.”

  My mouth dropped open, and Sam snickered beside me before ordering the same thing. Tate handed us both smoking glasses of pink liquid, which tasted like strawberries.

  While Sam and Tate chatted, Andrew served drinks to a teen wolf and a fairy. I watched him and played with my heart charm. If I took it off now and dropped it, would it seal my fate with Andrew? Did I want him to fall in love with me because of a spell or potion? Would it even count as real love?

  Before I could dwell, Sam was tugging me to the dance floor. I waved to Andrew before we were swallowed up by the crowd. The music was louder inside and I lost myself to the beat. We danced our way into the center of the crowded space. I grabbed Sam’s hands and raised our arms in the air, giggling together as we bumped hips. People jostled us and we broke apart. A monkey man spun Sam around, and then gave her a banana. I laughed so hard I bent to catch my breath… and felt the ribbon at my neck loosen and give way before it fell to the floor.

  Oh no!

  The heart.

  I froze and looked around, holding my breath, wishing Andrew would be standing in front of me. Instead, my worst fear walked toward me. A purple zebra pimp hat moved through the crowd in our direction. Blond hair and brown eyes came into focus. Hamilton winked at me.

  No. No. No.

  I closed my eyes and spun around, stumbling when I met with the solid wall of someone’s chest. A pair of hands wrapped around my biceps, steadying me.

  I gasped and opened my eyes to meet pale blue ones, and a lopsided smile.

  “Hi,” I said, exhaling in relief.

  Andrew just smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the dance floor and Hamilton. Outside he kept going past the terrace, leading me down a stone path to the beach.

  “My heart!” I exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the path.

  “What?”

  “I lost my heart pendant on the dance floor. I should go find it.”

  “You’ll never find it in the crowd.”

  I frowned.

  He pressed his finger to my bottom lip. “It’s not important, is it?”

  The charm itself wasn’t worth anything, but how could I confess to him how important it was to find it—or even more important, he find it, for the love spell to be completed.

  He studied me for a minute before pressing his hand to my cheek.

  I wanted to kiss him again—more than I wanted to find the heart, even more than I cared about superstitious hocus-pocus magic, so I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. With my heels, the height difference was much less and I could easily reach my hands into his hair. His open coat formed a cocoon around us.

  We kissed like no one could see us, like we were the last two people alive, or the first people ever to fall in love. We kissed like we were falling in love.

  My head spun as the earth shifted beneath my feet. Unable to catch my breath, I broke off the kiss, nuzzling my nose in his neck.

  This was falling in love.

  “Madison,” he whispered into my hair.

  “Mmm.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” I lifted my head to meet his gaze.

  Gently cupping my cheeks, he searched my eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “I know about the love spell.”

  Eight

  “What?” I tried to pull away from him, but his arm around my waist held me in place. Therefore, all I achieved was bending backward and grinding my hips against him.

  Oh. Spell or no spell, Andrew liked me. Really liked me.

  I had hard evidence… against my stomach. When he moaned and pulled his hips away, I pouted.

  “The spell?” he reminded me.

  Oh, right. The spell.

  “I don’t even believe in magic. It was kind of a joke, and I lost the heart pendant. My true love was supposed to find it when it dropped, but you didn’t. And I saw Hamilton first. So it didn’t work,” I babbled.

  Andrew stilled and remained silent.
/>   I rewound what I’d said. Not believing in magic, joke, not working … true love … him.

  Closing my eyes, I wished for the ground to swallow me whole. The beach and the icy cold water sat a few yards away. A short run and I could throw myself into the sea.

  “Madison, open your eyes.”

  I opened one eye, and then slowly the other.

  Andrew smiled at me. “Even if you don’t believe in magic, I do.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “Really?”

  “Doubts the girl who used a love spell on me,” he said with a chuckle and a peck to my lips. “If you didn’t believe, just a little, why are you worried about the spell working or not working?”

  He had me there. “I, um.” I paused and sucked in a deep breath to buy some time. “If it worked, then you don’t really like me, you’re just enchanted. Or whatever you call it. And if it didn’t work, then I’m embarrassed and a fool.”

  “What if I told you it didn’t work, but I’m still enchanted, although I prefer the word bewitched.”

  Bewitched. My skin tingled and warmed.

  “Walk with me? I want to show you something.” He entwined his fingers with mine and gently pulled me down the path.

  I followed. Of course.

  The beach was quiet except for small waves slapping against the rocky shore. Sand and rocks were madness with these heels, so I removed them and walked barefoot through the cold, wet sand. A large shadow loomed down the beach, and I realized it was a pile of wood for a bonfire.

  “Is this the midnight surprise?” I asked, circling the pyre.

  “It is. Tonight’s Samhain as well as Halloween. Do you know about it?” He followed behind me, but at a distance.

  “Sam and Sarah told me a little. It’s the night when the threshold between worlds gets thinner and magic is easier.”

  “Sarah?” He stopped walking.

  I stopped, too, and faced him. “Sarah, at the Spelling B.”

  He smirked. “I should have known.”

  “Known what?” I stepped closer. His contacts made his eyes almost glow in the light from the sliver of moon above the bay. “Your contacts remind me of her eyes.”

  “How odd.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

  With a look over his shoulder toward the house, he crouched near the wood. He held his hands in front of him and a spark hit the kindling. I never saw a match. Within seconds, a blue flame spread through the stack before transforming into a warm blaze. Flames reached toward the sky.

  “I’ve never seen a bonfire alight so quickly,” I said in awe. “How did you do that?”

  He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “Seriously, how did you do that? Lighter fluid? I didn’t even see you use a lighter.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What? That’s impossible.”

  “Not if you believe in magic.”

  I was utterly, completely, and entirely confused.

  “Andrew?”

  “Uh huh,” he said, stepping closer and touching my hips above my tutu.

  “What going on?”

  “Hmm … well, if you don’t believe in magic, nothing. Just two people standing near a bonfire.”

  “A bonfire you lit with your hands.”

  “Not if you don’t believe.”

  “But I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Appearances can be deliberately deceiving.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll catch on without me having to spell it out for you.” He chuckled and kissed me again.

  I let myself fall into the kiss, but my mind kept spinning with questions. Andrew Wildes wasn’t what he seemed. Something clicked.

  “You’re not wearing contacts tonight, are you?”

  I could feel his smile against my cheek.

  “I think you’re catching on.” As he spoke, his scruff rubbed against my skin.

  “Glasses?”

  “Fake lenses.” A kiss to my neck.

  My forehead creased. He kissed the wrinkles.

  “Wait. Contacts and fake lenses?”

  He nodded, or at least dipped his chin in the beginning of a nod. His glacial blue eyes pierced through me. I shivered with the chill of his stare.

  “All part of the illusion.”

  “At first we dress to deceive?” I asked. When I crossed my arms, my wings tightened at my shoulders. This conversation was surreal enough beyond the fact it was happening while I was dressed like a bee.

  “The quiet, loner boy who no one notices.” He raised one shoulder in a lopsided shrug

  “But why?”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to be who everyone expected me to be.”

  “Because you’re from here.” I was missing something.

  “And my mom.”

  I gasped. The pieces fell into place like a puzzle coming together. “Your mom is Sarah at the Spelling Bee!”

  “The lady is on to something.”

  “Your mom is the most powerful witch in Salem.”

  “Ding, ding,” he said flatly.

  “Sam told me Sarah is a real witch.” I stopped myself and stared at him. “Does that mean …”

  “I’m a witch.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “You’re a witch?”

  He nodded.

  I nodded. “So the fire?”

  He wiggled his fingers in front of me.

  “And the love spell?”

  He laughed. “The peppercorns made me suspicious. When I saw your heart pendant tonight, I recognized it from my mom’s shop.”

  My cheeks heated, and not from the heat of the bonfire. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be.” He kissed me again. “Those spells don’t work.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s against coven rules to influence emotions.”

  “Yet okay for us mere mortals to think they do?”

  “It’s all about the power of suggestion.” He looked smug.

  “So, according to you, the spell didn’t work?”

  “Right.”

  “But you’re kissing me.”

  “Not right now I’m not.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Or now.” He kissed the other corner, then smiled.

  I smiled back.

  “I like you, Madison. A lot. I have since you were a freshman.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “I didn’t know you then.” I stopped. “Oh. The boy no one notices.”

  He nodded, watching me carefully with a guarded expression.

  “A bio-chem major in an English lit seminar?”

  He shrugged. “I honestly like to read, but maybe I found out you’d be in Philips’ class.”

  “Magic?”

  “Friend works in the registrar’s office.”

  “Any other magic I should know about?”

  He looked down at his feet. “Maybe.”

  I used my finger to tip up his chin.

  “Hamilton’s chair didn’t fall on its own.”

  My eyebrows touched my hairline. “I thought I wished that!”

  “You kind of did. I could read your face and helped a little.”

  “When else?”

  “The rain when you wouldn’t accept my umbrella.”

  “You can control the weather?”

  He nodded. “Not in the grand scheme of things, but temporarily.”

  “And Sam canceling coffee?”

  Pressing his lips together, he shook his head. “A happy coincidence. I was working on something, but didn’t need to use it.”

  “So you’re a real witch.”

  He grinned. “I am. And you’re a Bradbury girl.”

  Sarah’s strange words echoed in my head. A brown-haired Bradbury girl.

  “I am.” I gave him a quizzical look.

  “Mary Bradbury survived the Salem witch trials, but Sarah W
ildes didn’t. There’s a long history between our families. And…” he paused and exhaled, “My mother saw you coming into my life two years ago.”

  “Freshman year.”

  He nodded, pulling me into his arms.

  “You must have been relieved she didn’t say Dorcus Hoar was to be your true love.”

  Andrew threw his head back and laughed. “So relieved.”

  “Poor Dorcus. Persecuted when alive, and mocked in death.”

  “I can call you Dorcus, if you feel so bad.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Please don’t.” I laughed and kissed him between chuckles. Laugh-kissing was better than snort-laughing.

  He stopped laughing and his eyes focused on mine. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

  I would have said more, but his lips crashed against mine, and I knew he’d waited long enough.

  Whoops and screams coming down the lawn broke us apart, but Andrew held fast to my hand, not letting me move away from his side. Various partygoers tumbled toward the fire, among them Tate and Sarah walking close together, arms entwined.

  I met Andrew’s eye and he kissed my forehead. “Don’t tell Sam her spell didn’t work either.”

  My eyes widened, but I laughed.

  If she needed to believe in spells, so be it.

  I believed in real magic.

  The End?

  Thanks for reading Bewitched! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it. I had fun branching out into New Adult and paranormal. If you enjoyed the humor and the falling in love parts, please check out my other books, which have both of those elements without the paranormal twist.

  Special thanks to Allison Smith, Nadine Silber, Suzanne, and SO for reading early drafts of this story. It's better because of your input. Thank you to my editor Melissa Ringsted and proofreader Marla Esposito for fixing my crimes against grammar and giving my writing a final polish.

  Look for more shorts and novels from me coming soon. Be sure to sign up for my mailing list for the latest news, exclusives, and giveaways.

  Happy Reading!

  xo Daisy

  About the Author

  Before writing bestselling contemporary adult romances, Daisy dreamed of being an author while doing a lot of other things. Antiques dealer, baker, blue ribbon pie-maker, fangirl, freelance writer, gardener, pet mom and wife are a few of the titles she's acquired over the years.