Most don't believe in magic. witches, wizards, magical creatures and hidden worlds? The concept is insane. utterly insane. Raina firmly believed that to the point she doubted her own eyes, let alone that she herself could ever do such incredible things. but once she's swept into Davon's world, the mysterious and sensuous man opens her mind to things and feelings she'd never known. But are these feelings real? Or is she merely the next victim of him hidden agenda?
View MoreI'd started spending time with Davon after work and on my days off. It was rare for me not to pay him a visit whether it was expected or not. I was excited to begin this journey into a whole new world of myth and magic and, possibly most importantly, to learn more about the man himself. But as the days rolled into weeks it felt as though I was standing in place unable to move forward in either goal and to sat it was becoming frustrating would have been a huge understatement.When I was with him I felt like I was back in high-school and had finally garnered the attention of my long-time crush. I'd catch myself playing with the ends of my sleeves as we spoke, twirling my hair and stumbling over words whenever he said anything potential sensual- which seemed like a common occurrence, or at least far more common than I was used to. At first I'd found it difficult to focus on anything but him as a result, but it had slowly begun to ease and with that came a certainty. He'd cast a spell on
I wake in a large, soft bed. Unsure how long has passed, my gaze sweeps the room in search of a clock. The room is big, but mostly empty; a bed and dresser are the only furniture. A clock rests on the dresser, big red letters tell me it’s 5: 26. I sigh in relief and pull myself out of bed.I make my way down the winding stairs to his living room, sending a glare at that damnable rug. Davon isn’t here. Should I look for him? It feels wrong to just search his place. He might not even be here, maybe he went back to wherever. My gaze returns to the swirling milky-way, a frown tugging my lips.“So the lovely Ms. Foster is finally awake,” I whirl around at the sound of his voice. He strides over to me, his gaze inspecting, “How are you feeling?”“Confused,” is my anxious reply.“I would imagine,” he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, “You should leave. Ask Nora to take you on, I’m not a good fit for you. You need a caring hand, I can’t give you that.”“But that’s exactly what
"Is it terrible?" Davon asks, raking a hand through his hair, "I think it's the perfect medicine for you.""How can you say that?" Kimberly shouts, eyes wide with hysteria, "Do you know what you've done?""Of course I do," his voice rings with mirth, "I concocted the potion, remember?""Why would you do this to me? You-you monster!" fresh tears make their escape, rushing down her face only to fall to the grey carpet below. My stomach twists in sympathy. I don't need to be told what happened, I've already figured it out."To help you, just as you asked," the innocent expression he's donned further sours my own. I don't see how what's done constitutes helping in any way."How is this helping?" She spits the question, which mirrors my own.“You’ll fear those ‘negative’ thoughts for the rest of your life. You’ll force yourself away from them, terrified that they’ll spill into your waking life,” he tilts his head, his eyes dulled with boredom, “Am I wrong?”“Well… no,” she steps closer, “B
Davon sent me home soon after Kimberly left, telling me to return Friday; exactly one week from today. My thoughts are fixed on the man as I climb into my powder blue cobalt, trying to jam the key into the ignition as I eye the large, white house. When I succeed, I slowly put my car in reverse and carefully back out of the long, winding driveway.He haunts me throughout the week, steering my thoughts toward him whenever I’m not busy enough to keep him at bay. Again and again, I wonder what spell he’s put on me; even though I know he hasn’t. But I can’t otherwise make sense of it, this fascination… attraction if I’m honest with myself. Which I don’t want to be, not on this.On Wednesday, Nora steps into the café. The bells hanging over the door signal her arrival, she steps inside. Long, blonde hair caresses her arms and shoulders, as she casually looks around. Then she spots me, bent over the table I have been bussing, and struts over with a pleasant smile clinging to her lips.Her un
“What happens when what we think is made manifest?” Davon asks me, hands folded neatly beneath his chin. The trace of a smile raises the corners of his full, kissable lips, mossy-green eyes twinkling with a devilish gleam. It stirs something in the pit of my stomach, clawing like a kitten at my insides. I feel mesmerized by this man and his slow, sensuous voice. Even as my skin crawls, pleading with me to escape his clutches; before it’s too late.I clear my throat, flitting my gaze to the potted plant beside the couch he’s sitting on. The large, green leaves of the hostas are trimmed with white and still glistening from a recent watering. I feel his eyes on me as I think, patiently awaiting my thoughts. “I’m not really sure why you’re asking, it seems like you answered it yourself,” I tell him, forcing my gaze back to his face. His skin is lightly tanned, nearly the same light brown color as his hair; which is just long enough to curl around his ears.He laughs, like a deep, dark s
“What happens when what we think is made manifest?” Davon asks me, hands folded neatly beneath his chin. The trace of a smile raises the corners of his full, kissable lips, mossy-green eyes twinkling with a devilish gleam. It stirs something in the pit of my stomach, clawing like a kitten at my insides. I feel mesmerized by this man and his slow, sensuous voice. Even as my skin crawls, pleading with me to escape his clutches; before it’s too late.I clear my throat, flitting my gaze to the potted plant beside the couch he’s sitting on. The large, green leaves of the hostas are trimmed with white and still glistening from a recent watering. I feel his eyes on me as I think, patiently awaiting my thoughts. “I’m not really sure why you’re asking, it seems like you answered it yourself,” I tell him, forcing my gaze back to his face. His skin is lightly tanned, nearly the same light brown color as his hair; which is just long enough to curl around his ears.He laughs, like a deep, dark s
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