It’s Friday the 13th & I’m in a mood to celebrate! So I’m reducing the price of my witches on PayHip only for today! If you’re in the mood for witches, action, mayhem, and romance, you might like this story!
Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite!
Usually I stayed clear of Sal’s club, but slim pickings in the smaller establishments of late had left me dangerously close to dipping into my emergency stash. And, to be a little too honest, close to broke and closer to stupid. Hindsight. If I’d listened to my gut, I wouldn’t have had to try sneaking out the back of my own crappy apartment, hoping to beat a mountain on legs to the back fence. It had to be Sal’s muscle picking the lock on the front door, because I couldn’t change the configuration of the lock to keep him out no matter how many times I tried to magick the damned door.
Everyone has to make a living somehow. It’s not like Sal couldn’t afford a few hundred, but no, nobody got to use magick inside his club except him.
The guy stopped trying to get in, for the moment, so I guessed I was going on the lam in jeans and old Doc Martens. Great. Never thought I’d be running for my life in the clothes I wear to take out the trash. With a few minutes to change and secure my usual glamour, I could hit a poker game in Southwest after ditching the goon, but maybe an indulgence was in order. If Sal had sent someone after me, a short trip up to Seattle might be a good idea, maybe even BC. That called for some new clothes, so I grabbed my battered gym bag—my quick escape kit—and was almost home free when the kitchen door burst open. It would’ve been dumb to turn off the light when the goomba first went to work on the lock—I can’t see any better in the dark than your average Daisy, not when I’m blocked. Once that massive body filled the doorway, I wished I had. Wished I’d done something.
He hesitated, barely a moment, and I bolted for the front door. He grabbed me before I made it out of the kitchen and pinned both of my arms to my sides. It wouldn’t work, I knew that, but I still tried to burn his hands. All I needed was enough time to—fuck, is he laughing?
“Give it up, pretty boy. You’re blocked.”
The big man pushed me against the wall face-first and pulled both hands behind my back.
“Hey, wait a sec, big guy. Let’s talk about this. I can—”
He pushed me flat against the wall, and the rest of that sentence disappeared in the rush of air he squeezed from my lungs. I couldn’t help being turned on, even though pain and domination usually aren’t my thing. Neither are bears, but underneath the padding he felt nice and solid, leaning full against me. He tightened a plastic zip tie around my wrists with shaking hands. And then he held me there.