THE WITCH WARS
by Gail Roughton
GENRE: Paranormal Romance
BLURB:
Ariel Anson thinks she has her life in order. She’s young, smart, and beautiful, even if she doesn’t believe the beautiful part. She’s a paralegal with a great career and a fiancé who’s a CPA. You just can’t get any steadier than that.
Then she meets private investigator, bounty hunter, process server Chad Garrett. What does War-N-Wit, Inc. stand for anyway? Warlock and Witch? For real? Oh, yes! For real. Now every day is full of strange powers, secret societies, clandestine agencies, and out-of-this-world adventure. Her life as she knows it is over!
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Excerpt:
I’d never thought any flesh and blood man could possess, a rhythm I matched as though I’d known it forever, moving until we both melted like a candle whose light is temporarily extinguished by the wax turned liquid by its flame.
He lay against me, his mouth gently kissing my eyes, his fingers running slowly through my hair. I opened my eyes and smiled.
“No man outside the pages of a romance novel knows how to do things like that,” I said.
He smiled back at me. “You taught me. Through many years.”
Through the rest of the night we dozed, we roused, we merged again. During one sweet episode I felt something slide onto my finger, but I was way past the point of caring what or being capable of ascertaining such if I had cared and finally, before dawn broke fully through, we slept.
I woke with my head cradled on his shoulder, my arm thrown over his chest, and filtered light beams streaming in through the bedroom curtains. I stretched, lazy as any cat, and caught a glint of brilliant light. Coming from—my hand? Surely not. I stretched my hand out in front of me and shrieked.
“OH! MY! GOD!” I furiously punched his shoulder. “Chad! This—this—”
He stretched and yawned. “It’s called an engagement ring, baby girl.”
“Oh, hell no, it’s not! This is—this would buy a freakin’ car!”
I gazed in mingled horror and admiration at the marquis solitaire sparkling in its circlet of white gold, smaller diamonds running down the band on either side.
“No, it wouldn’t.”
“Yes! Yes, it would! Mostly anyway.”
“I told you. Man puts a ring on your finger, it needs to be big enough to blind folks while you type. While you give your two-weeks’ notice. Stones are from the Miami market. One of a kind ring for a one-of-a-kind witch. You don’t like it?”
“I’m too scared of it to know if I like it! This is—what if a stone comes loose? The solitaire gets chipped? It gets lost for heaven’s sake?”
“It’s called insurance, darlin’. Just enjoy it. And, uh, small request, please? Don’t take it off without warning me?”
“I can’t wear a ring like this all the time! It has to come off when I’m cleaning, or—or—making biscuits! My God, what that would do to it!”
“Which is why the wedding band is plain, so it doesn’t have to come off. But until it goes on, just warn me if you’re taking this off, okay?”
“Because?”
“I’d feel it,” he said simply. “And you’d scare me.”
“You wouldn’t—” I broke off, remembering the night of his hydroplane incident when my own neck muscles had knotted into ropes and I’d almost hyperventilated. “Okay. But if you feel it go off and you’re out of calling or texting range, just know it’s going right back on as soon as I finish doing whatever it is I don’t want to do with it on.”
“Deal.”
I looked up and ran my fingers through his hair. “You’re more silver than you were at Christmas.”
“Bother you?”
“Nothing about you bothers me. And damn, I never thought I’d say that when we were sitting in Rosita’s and you announced you were a warlock. And we were long-lost lovers But you really are goin’ to be completely silver at a very young age.”
“Yeah, I’ve used a lot of power since—when did this start? Let’s see. October 5, I think.”
I laughed in delight. “You remember the exact date? First time you talked to me?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“And using power—that—oh shit! I’m starting to use power! Aren’t I?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“So am I going to start going silver?! I mean, it looks great on guys, but on me—”
He laughed. “Damn. You looked at yourself lately?”
“Sure. Every time I brush my hair.”
“And you haven’t noticed anything?”
“Like what?”
“Damn. Goin’ to make me get up,” he threw back the covers. “Oh, well, we won’t be gone long enough for it to get cold.”
“What are you—” He took my hand and pulled us over to my dresser, putting me in front of him.
“Look.”
“Look at—oh. Oh.” I breathed, staring at my eyes. The blue rim, which had heretofore been only a tiny rim, visible only to me, or so I’d thought, until he’d made it clear it was noticeable to him, was at least a sixteenth of an inch wide, edging out towards an eighth.
“Welcome, precious. To the world of magic.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Gail Roughton is a native of small town Georgia whose Deep South heritage features prominently in most of her work. She’s a paralegal who’s lived in a law office for over forty years, during which time she’s raised three children and quite a few attorneys. She’s tried retirement but it didn’t take. Through it all, she’s kept herself sane by writing novels and tossing them into her closet. Thanks to BWL Publishing, Inc., most of those novels have now emerged in published form. A cross-genre writer, her books range from humor to romance to thriller to horror and she’s never quite sure what to expect when she sits down at the keyboard. She usually has a project or two on the backburner but doesn’t discuss them for fear of jinxing herself. Given her affinity for the supernatural, this should come as no surprise to any reader.
6 comments:
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Sounds like an interesting story. I enjoyed the blurb.
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This sounds like a good book and I really like the cover.
PNR is my favorite. This sounds like a great book
Great cover and excerpt
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