Sacred Salvation

 

 

Father Sebastian has found a home in St. Augusta College.

But when that home is threatened by a student, questions arise in his own beliefs.

Sacred Salvation

Part of Sins of the Sacred

by Casia Pickering

Genre: Dark Priest Romance

St. Augusta College is known for weaving the Arts with Theology. Within its iron gates lies a prestigious education that can drive a person mad.

Father Sebastian Hardwicke is new to the position. Not once has his religious fervor been tested until he is sent to the cathedral on St. Augusta's campus. The school is not what he expected. Hymns and prayers echo within the cathedral, and the faculty are pious and helpful. Even the students held a reverence he had only experienced in seminary. On the outside, it is perfect.

But a mask is still a mask, no matter how enticing.

Emilia Trent has two goals in life: to convey true emotion into her art and to quiet the voices. But the voices have gotten louder, screaming and demanding that she keep painting. There is no freedom in her expression. With the new priest coming to campus, her urges grow to a point where she no longer knows who she is. There is an almost paranormal force growing inside her.

There is only one person capable of holding the demon at bay- Father Sebastian Hardwicke. But will he choose to face the evil head-on or fall into the deep embrace of temptation?

Part of Sins of the Sacred, a dark priest romance shared world series featuring eleven amazing authors.

 

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“I don't think there is a demon inside you,” Sebastian sighed, “that wasn't my intention-”

 

“My father died when I was starting high school,” Emilia said. "He used to drive freight trucks at night. During one night, a nasty storm happened, and, well, it crashed. He was in the hospital for weeks until we couldn't keep him on life support.”

 

“I'm so sorry,” Sebastian said. He looked off into the distance, as if heweres lost in his own thoughts.

 

Emilia shrugged. “I've had depression ever since. My painting helps with it and so did a therapist when I had one, but it isn't because of my depression that I struggle.”

 

“What is?” Sebastian asked.

 

Emilia thought quietly. She glanced at Sebastian. Without the white collar pinned into his polo shirt, he'd look like any other well-dressed man. It was that and the type of shirt that seemed out of place with his jeans and glasses that he was constantly pushing back up the bridge of his nose. She wondered what made him choose the life he chose.

 

Was he a believer, or was it pushed onto him by people around him? She remembered an argument she had with her mother about maybe joining the military to help pay for college. That was before the art contest and scholarship that got her into St. Augusta. As much as she stressed about being at the school, she wouldn't change her choices if she had the chance. But her knowledge about Father Arthur, Sister Rebecca, and Miranda would be for Sebastian. It may not be her responsibility, but it was something Emilia didn't want on her conscience.

 

“I'd rather not talk about it,” she finally decided, shaking her head, “no offense, but I doubt you'd take my life experiences into consideration if I told you.”

 

“What do you mean?” Sebastian's eyes furrowed in confusion.

 

“Imagine being abused or having a bad relationship with a friend or something,” Emilia said, “can you do that?”

 

Sebastian’s expression went still. It was as if he were seeing something from his past. A pang of guilt hit Emilia’s chest. If she had known he might’ve experienced something like what she was suggesting, she might not have said that.

 

“Okay,” Sebastian whispered, “go on.”

 

Emilia nodded. “Let’s say you told someone about that experience, but that person you told didn’t believe you because the person who abused you or the friend who was awful hasn’t shown that side of themselves to that person. Can you imagine how that feels?”

 

“I can.” Sebastian’s voice was raspy and hard. He worked his jaw and rolled his head from side to side.

 

A squirrel jumped from headstone to headstone as birds twittered. His cheeks were bulging from the collection of nuts. The leaves rustled as another autumn breeze brushed past. Emilia looked around at the quiet beauty of it all.

 

Even the voices weren’t around. Emilia looked around, this time paying attention to every small detail. There was no fog or shadows. The only brightness that held her attention, aside from the slowly dying sun, was Sebastian. It was as if the cemetery was an oasis away from whatever plagued the campus. 

 

“That’s why I’m not ready to say anything,” Emilia said. "I don’t know if you’d believe me or not, but it’s not worth saying if we end up arguing.”

 

About the Sins of the Sacred series

The Sins of the Sacred dark romance shared world series brings together standalone stories by multiple authors, each exploring the collision of faith and forbidden desire within religious settings. From medieval abbeys and dissolution-era monasteries to modern churches and theological colleges, priests, nuns, exorcists, and other religious figures face temptations that challenge their sacred vows. The series spans various time periods, incorporating paranormal elements including demon possession, angelic intervention, and exorcism that intensify conflicts between duty and desire.

With diverse pairings including M/F, MM, F/F/F, and MFM configurations, each book delivers explicit romantic content while exploring themes of religious trauma, repression, and the struggle between devotion and forbidden longing. The series features omegaverse dynamics, second chance romance, and enemies-to-lovers tropes alongside darker explorations of possession, crisis of faith, and the psychological impact of religious structures. Designed for readers seeking taboo romance that examines the tension between sacred vows and human desire in emotionally complex narratives.

 

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Even though she claims she can write anything, the biography remains to be Casia’s arch-nemesis. Despite this, Casia has used her Writing degree to craft stories in over ten anthologies, maintained a book blog for more than a decade, and has begun to write novels. A multi-genre author, Casia Pickering, is incapable of keeping to one thing. Every story has a piece of her personality that she treasures and shares with her readers. She currently lives in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia with her biggest supporter and helper, her son, affectionately known as Bug. Previous works are under the name, Casia Courtier.

 

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The Lesitha Veil Tales

 

Every choice echoes across worlds.

Freedom or Chaos; Stability or Control?

The Edge of Oblivion

The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 1

by CM Dawson

Genre: Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure

"We were younger than we realised and equally naïve."

Dive into The Edge of Oblivion — a coming‑of‑age fantasy of secret map‑books, a dying storyteller’s last wish, and a crystal key that reveals tears in reality. Discover a richly imagined world, fast‑paced adventure, and a hero who must choose between duty and destiny — buy now and step over the Veil.

The veil is weakening and shreds between the worlds are becoming more frequent. Darkness is spreading. A new Rysyn is sought to replace the Torsoma before it’s too late and the veil fails, releasing chaos across the facet worlds.

Bex Gartan has no desire to follow her father into the Grinders Guild – or die of stone lung like he did. A rebellious 17-year-old, just weeks before her Liberation Day, a brutal encounter shatters her world. In a shadowy alley, she faces a tragedy and finds her destiny.

Bex's determination to find the truth pulls her into a conflict that spans multiple worlds. She becomes the target of assassins, the pawn of questionable advisors, and now the unlikely successor to the leader of the Facet worlds. Bex must learn to temper her impulsive nature and trust her instincts if she’s to save her friends, and the Facet worlds.

Will she be the saviour they seek or the herald of chaos?

 

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Chapter 16 Excerpt:

Then there was the Great Xan Janal, who claimed to have gone over the Edge and slayed a mighty beast to save a village. He boasted that there were many worlds, all separated by the Veil. There were people of different races who spoke weird languages. Some were tall and fair with long, flowing, silver hair. Others were short, squat, covered in fur and grunted a lot. Those stories always made me laugh. My eyes blurred as tears welled up, thinking of him. Whether they were real or figments of his imagination, Xan had given his life to sharing his stories of adventure. And I wasn’t about to let him down.

As I crawled on, I wondered which world I would find on the other side of the Veil. Would it be a world of thick jungles, filled with loud, screaming creatures jumping from one towering tree to the next? Or would it be a crystalline world overflowing with unimaginable colours? I was hoping for the water world, for Muut’s sake, except for the whole swimming thing. That scared me.

I looked back again and then beyond Muut. I scanned the horizon and watched as the heat rippled off the scorched ground. The only things that stood as high as a man here were the boulders that dotted the landscape. There was no lush green foliage, and the rivers were more often dry more than filled with water. I dreamed of seeing the leaves of a plant that was as big as me. I fantasised about dipping my fingers into a cool running stream and carrying the refreshing water to my lips; skipping stones across its surface and seeing splashes instead of puffs of dust.

I didn’t know if Xan’s stories were real or made-up fantasies to impress the ladies. But what I knew was that I didn’t want to die without at least attempting to find out. I owed him that much. So I turned back and faced the Edge. I checked the straps that held my knives tucked against my wrists. I placed my right hand out in front of me and then my right knee, then my left hand, left knee. I slowly crawled to the Edge.

The fingers on my left hand reached it first. I stopped and looked at my hand. The tips of my fingers curved over an edge. My breath caught in my throat. I moved my right hand up to match my left and swallowed deeply as the tips of both hands were now bent joyously over the Edge of our world. I slowly lowered myself down to the rough ground and felt the sharp rocks poking me in my chest and belly.

Carefully, I pulled my body up to the Edge and peered over. The air coalesced into a swirling mist of obscurity, roiling and bulging, causing my vision to slide and refocus as I tried to peer through it.

I pulled myself up to the Edge, raising onto my elbows and stretching my neck as far as I could. The grey mist swirled around my head forming dewdrops on my cheeks. I blew into it, watching as it whirled madly away from me, quickly folding back in on itself. I extended my arm and felt a cool dampness cover me like a second skin. The further I extended it, the less I could see of it.

I pulled myself up and swivelled around to sit on the Edge with my legs now dangling freely. My feet disappeared into the swirling mist that roiled below me. Then I leaned out as far as I could and swished my arms back and forth, trying to clear a view through the grey wall.

I either leaned too far or whipped my arms too wildly, because I tumbled off the ledge into the mist. My heart leapt as I felt myself sliding down the edge of the world. Suddenly, I jerked to a stop when the rope tied to my ankle caught me tight. My breath gushed from my lungs and my heart pounded my ribs.

I heard Muut calling to me, his cries distant, muffled.

I hung for a moment, dangling upside down against the edge of the world. I released my fear as I pushed myself up away from the rough rock face. Curling my knees beneath me, I crouched for a moment, waiting to see if I would fall. Nothing happened. The cool mist swirled around me; my head swooned with the mesmerising movement. 

I filled my lungs with the moist air and stood. Fully expecting to topple over, I stretched my arms wide to catch myself when I did. I stood there as rigid as a boulder with my arms spread, knees locked, breath held, eyes tightly closed.

Nothing.

I slowly opened my left eye, peeking, face scrunched tight, awaiting the imagined impact. Both eyes sprang open, and the air exploded out of my lungs. A breathtaking view assaulted my eyes.

Dark Side of the Veil

The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 2

When Bexlin Gartan is kidnapped into a world of metal and gears, the impulsive daughter of a storyteller must reclaim a stolen Lesitha Crystal and learn why her blood marks her as the next Rysyn—before a tyrant uses her power to shred the Veil and destroy everything.

Bex crossed the veil for adventure - now she may never return home, may never see her ma again or laugh with her friends. Stranded in a dark Facet, ruled by a tyrant set on seeking revenge and using her to fulfil his vengeance, she must decide whether she will become his pawn or fight to save all she loves.

Separated from her friends, she convinces the strange mechanically augmented half-lifes to help her find them and to return home, but not before she tries to stop the demented ruler, Urbo'Krk. Uncertain who to trust or what the rising energy building within her means, she must learn to control her impetuous ways and calm her mind. Only then can she face the truth of her destiny - saviour or destroyer.

Will she bring stability or usher in chaos?

 

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Chapter 13 Excerpt:

“Come,” the ‘naut commanded.

I turned my attention back to the wall where a trickle of moisture ran down a groove, around a rivet, and disappeared behind the bench.

The white-hot tearing of my scalp ripped a scream from my chest as the ‘naut yanked me to my feet by my braid. He held me, dangling in the air for a moment before releasing me. My hands went to my head and returned covered in blood.

“Come or be dragged.”

The warmth of the blood running down my back held me for a moment. Then Tar was at my side, gripping my elbow to guide me.

“Walk,” hecommanded.

My legs felt like they were full of sand, but I made them move as he guided me out of the cell and we followed the ‘naut through the maze of passages. “Where are you taking me now?” I whispered.

Tar ignored my question, but I felt a tightening on my elbow.

“Why are you helping someone like him?”

Again, no response, but this time there was a tug on my elbow. “Okay, at least tell me where you’re taking me?”

The massive head of the ‘naut glanced back at us. “No speak. Walk.”

We rode up out of the cells in an open lift. The fresh air felt good against my sweaty face. I studied the bleak world of Vrellum as we rose and wondered if my friends were somewhere lost in the labyrinthine maze of metal gantries and yellow haze.

The platform stopped and the ‘naut led us out into brighter, well-lit passages. We were back in the fortress of Urbo’Krk. We weren’t led to the main assembly chamber. This time the ‘naut led me past the big wooden doors with the familiar motifs etched on them. Instead, I was taken to a smaller chamber. As we entered, a light came on above a large metal chair that sat in the centre of the room. There were straps on the arms and the footrest. I stopped short, making Tar bump into me.

The ‘naut pointed. “Sit.”

I threw my head back, catching Tar off guard and smashing his face, just missing his already flattened nose. My elbow connected with his ribs, and I heard a satisfying grunt. Turning to run, I wasn’t quick enough. The one-eyed Omaj blocked my exit, and the ‘naut grabbed my shoulder, pinching me, and I screamed at the crushing of my bones. He threw me into the chair, slamming my head against the upper backrest. I left a bloody imprint from his earlier threat of dragging me. I tried to get up but felt pressure on my chest. It forced me back into the chair.

“Enough.” Urbo’Krk stepped out of the shadows with Cog at his side. He’d removed his cape and the silver breastplate. He now wore a black vest that allowed him to display his mechanical arms. Beneath the close-fitting fabric, I could see that his neck and chest were flesh. There was a seam where the augmented arms attached to his shoulders. The join was smooth and had a natural appearance as if the black mesh were just another type of skin.

He leaned over me. His presence felt heavy. The pressure built on my chest, and I tried to take a deeper breath, but could only sip the air. I turned away and refused to acknowledge him.

“Ah yes, you feel my strength.” He stood and pointed at Tar. His energy pushed against me, pressing me into the metal seat. Tar remained standing against the wall and motioned for Omaj to strap my wrists and ankles to the chair.

“I wish to examine you.” He spoke calmly as he turned and walked to a table that ran the length of one wall. “It isn’t every day a Rysyn passes through my world.”

My teeth felt like they might pop out as I spoke through my clenched jaw. “I’ve never heard of a Rysyn and don’t know why you think I’m one. I was only looking for the truth.”

I glared at Tar as I spoke my defiant words. His stoic face drew tight as he stared at me and shook his head. Cog had stepped further into the room and now sat at my side. His quizzically tilted head indicating his attention.

Urbo’Krk’s broad back hunched over the table now straightened as he slowly turned back to look at me. “I will learn what makes you a Rysyn,” his eyes flicked to Cog, “or I’ll make the cog suffer for your defiance.”

Cog tilted his head ashe gazed from me to his master. I couldn’t be certain if he understood the threat that Urbo’Krk had made, but I also wouldn’t be the reason that he suffered any further abuse under this monster.

My jaw remained clenched as I slumped defeated into the chair. Tears welled in my eyes as Urbo’Krk came toward me carrying a mesh of wires.

“That’s better. Now sit still; this will hardly hurt.”

CM Dawson is an indie fantasy author and the founder of Crystal Path Publishing, writing multi-world adventure fiction from the rolling green hills of Wiltshire, England. Her debut series, The Lesitha Tales, follows Bex Gartan — a headstrong, impulsive 17-year-old who finds herself thrust into a power struggle that spans multiple worlds. Compared to Samantha Shannon, Brandon Sanderson, and Suzanne Collins, the series blends fast-paced action, vivid world-building, and a fierce coming-of-age heart. She crafts immersive multiverse fantasy filled with emotional stakes, dark magic, and lore rich worldbuilding. The first two books — The Edge of Oblivion and Dark Side of the Veil — are available now. A space opera trilogy, a short story collection, and a dystopian novel are all in development. When she is not writing, she can be found gardening, editing the local parish magazine, playing skittles, or being bossed around by her two English Bulldogs, Sage and Bubba.

 

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The Half Kasst

 

 

An ancient bloodline.

A forgotten war.

A woman destined to awaken both. 

The Half Kasst

by Delilah Belvedere

Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance, Urban Fantasy

After a charged encounter ignites something ancient in her blood, Sarai Davis becomes entangled in a world of hidden magic where pleasure and danger are inseparable.

A shocking prophecy shatters her reality: Sarai is a Half Kasst, descended from an erased bloodline and born to stand against a secret network of aristocratic vampires.

Now hunted, Sarai must reclaim a legacy meant to be wiped from history, and embrace her power before the forces hunting her finish what they began millennia ago. But power always demands payment.

 

**Releases Sep 8, 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

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Delilah Belvedere is a Kenyan-born, Washington, D.C.–based author and keynote speaker whose stories weave together mythology, sensuality, and power. Her writing blends African-inspired mythology with nontraditional vampires, witches, immersive worldbuilding, and unapologetically sensual storytelling, exploring themes of identity, legacy, and self-discovery through bold, unforgettable characters. Drawn to the spaces where ancestral magic, forbidden desire, and hidden histories collide, Delilah creates worlds where passion is transformative, power is inherited, and destiny is written in blood. Through every story, she champions authenticity, body positivity, curiosity, and the courage to embrace one’s truest self. When she’s not writing, Delilah is exploring new cuisines, hosting backyard BBQs, or binge-watching her next favorite series.

 

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Twisted Devotion Lilith Vincent #Review

 

Twisted Devotion

Lilith Vincent

He’s waited five years to come home to her. She’s spent five years praying he never would.

Cristiano Montoni would crawl over broken glass for one touch, one kiss, one sweet word from me. He has the face of an avenging angel and a body to die for. Powerful. Rich. Dangerous. Deadly. 

And heaven protect me, he’s back in Malus.

Five years ago, Cristiano worked his dark magic on me and ruined my life. Five years ago, I fell pregnant with his child. Then he vanished—and I was free.

I gave myself to a man I knew was twisted and terrifying. As the housekeeper’s daughter, I witnessed Cristiano’s brutal punishments at the hands of his father. I tried to put the pieces back together, but Agnello Montoni broke his son. Shattered his heart. Warped his mind.

Now I’m terrified that Cristiano will do the same to his son.

My son.

Our child.

I’ll protect Leon with my life. Cristiano can never know the child is his, or my son will be dragged into a violent underworld from which there’s no escape.

But Cristiano won’t stay away from me. Five years have passed, and he hasn’t changed. He’s still a monster of his father’s making. And I’ve never stopped wanting him.

Author’s Note: This book features a manipulative and possessive anti-hero, a fierce single mom, mutual virgins, and a secret baby.

REVIEW: 

Lilith Vincent is queen and Twisted Devotion proves it! There are so many of Lilith Vincent books I love and this is another. When you finish every book by the author think this was my favourite one you know you have an addiction.

Mina didn’t have to hide her secret until now. What’s changed you ask? 5 years ago Cristiano was sent away by his father. As head of the family, his dad’s word is final. Now Cristiano is back and Mina needs to keep her composure. The problem is Cristiano has no intention in staying away. He’s obsessed.

This story was soooo good. It had an emotional undertone that honestly I didn’t mind. Mina can run from Cristiano and he’s deadly focused on her.

This is a dark romance but the couple are perfect for each other. I haven’t read the other books in the series yet but I’m so looking forward to it.

Coming soon

 

Ebba's Enchantment

 

 

Chef, Ebba Mignon, is also a witch, or so says her half-sisters 

and has 45 days to find her soulmate and acquire her powers.

Ebba’s Enchantment

The Witch DNA Trilogy Book 3

by Sonja Gunter

Genre: Fantasy Romance, Romantasy, Urban Fantasy 

Spices. Succulent Cuisine. Potioneer.

The clock is ticking.

Ebba Mignon, a naturally gifted chef and owner of The Mignon’s Place, never envisioned partaking in the witchery craft or having half-sisters, Opaline, and Narda. But here she was with only 45 days to find her soulmate/future husband and her witch talents to reveal themselves to her.

How was she expected to accomplish this burden in order to defeat Alyaaluladonati, the ancient one, from killing the three of them?

Neal James, writer for the Best Places to Eat in MN, schedules an interview with Ebba Mignon, in the small town of Onamia. He isn’t prepared for the deep affection he experiences for her or to admire her culinary art skills when they meet.

Believing in the supernatural takes Neal and Ebba on a journey that neither thought possible, transforming their passion into the right ingredients to last a lifetime.

 

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Ebba took the chance to glance at him. He had sunglasses on, which hid his eyes. Would they be blue? To go with his brown hair? Realizing he was waiting for a

reply, she sighed. “My booth is the one with all the people lined up in front of it. Over there to the right.” She pointed in the direction they were walking.

 “Wow. What are you serving?”

 “The same thing I’ve done for the last two years.Subs.”

 The man stopped suddenly. “Subs? That’s it?”

 “Yes. I have only two things on my menu. One is a chopped Italian sub. I bake bread in the shape of a fish and add chopped-up prosciutto, pepperoni, and salami, along with lettuce, onion, tomato, and provolone cheese. I have my own special Italian vinaigrette dressing that I add to it too. The second item is my bestseller, a dill pickle sub.”

 They continued walking toward her booth.

 “A dill pickle sub? Never heard of that or had one before. What is it?”

 “Glad you asked. I use sliced dill pickles that I order from a local Amish woman. The key is to use a small layer of mayonnaise on the pickles. This seals in any leftover juices from the pickle. Then I layer on turkey and prosciutto with cheddar cheese, a tomato, and a lettuce leaf.”

 “Ebba! Hurry up. We need those plates.”

 She waved to Narda, who was signaling to her. “Oh my. We better hurry. The line has gotten very long.” With hurried steps, she directed the man carrying the bin to the back of the booth.

 “It’s about time. Did you see all the people waiting?”

 Ebba looked at Narda. “Be glad we have plates. I almost dropped the bin. This man saved it—and me—from falling.”

 “Where do you want this?”

 She and Narda looked at the man in unison.

 “Oh, sorry. Just set it down there.” Narda pointed to an empty spot on the table. Once he set it down, she opened it and took out a stack of plates. “Thanks for saving my sis. I’ll take these up front and let Opaline know you’ve returned.”

 Ignoring Narda’s sarcastic reply, she turned to the man.

 “Thanks again—”

 “Neal, I’ve been looking for you. I see you’ve met Ms. Mignon. I was setting up the equipment before she left.”

 What the heck? This man, who helped her, was the one and only Mr. James? She’d literally run into him. He’d sent her pulse raging, and she’d had sexual thoughts about

him. His first name was Neal. Could he be the one? Her soulmate?

No, she didn’t have time for this. It was just a coincidence his name started with the letter N. “You’re . . . My goodness, you must think I’m the worst person ever.”

 “I don’t. I didn’t know you were the person I’d come here to meet. Let’s forget about why I’m here. How can Seth and I help you with the crowd of people waiting for food? What can we do?”

 “Do? You want to work?” She hesitated, her mind still reeling.

 “Yes, it looks like two more sets of hands would be helpful.”

 “If . . . you’re sure. I could use your help. First, you both have to wash your hands and put on the plastic gloves. The dill pickle subs are almost gone. And I need to make another batch of ingredients for the chopped subs.”

 “Yes, ma’am,” the two men said.

 Ebba smiled and watched them do the safety protocol procedures for serving food, as she did the same. Taking out the three meats, cheese, and tomatoes from the coolers, she placed them onto the cutting board. Her nerves at Mr. James’s arrival and his offering to help had her doubting herself. The pendant throbbed against her skin.

 “Ready to help. What can we do?”

 His deep, rich voice was sexier in person than on the phone.

 Stop! It was time to concentrate. She had customers to serve. “Okay. Once I have the chopped salad ready, I need you to fill the fish-shaped bread with three scoops. You can start by opening and laying out the bread on the flat pan. While you’re doing that, it will allow me time to whip up some of the dill subs after I finish with the chopped Italian mixture.”

 Within a few minutes, she had chopped the ingredients and added the vinaigrette. She slid the bowl over to the two men.

 “Ebba, we need more subs,” Opaline said.

 Looking up, she saw her sister standing in front of her.

 When had she come over? “Mr. James and his cameraman are just finishing with the next tray of them.”

 “Mr. James?”

 She gave Opaline a look that said, ‘Don’t ask questions.’ “Yes. I ran into him, and he was kind enough to help. I’m working on the dill subs, and then I’ll do up another batch of the chopped Italian subs again.”

 “Narda said he was a looker. I’ve been working on a spell to help you find—”

 “Dear sister, this is not the time or place. Please take the tray of subs up to the front.”

 “Of course. Sorry, but we will talk about it tonight.”

 And just like that, her sister took the tray of finished subs and left. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw Neal and the cameraman engaged in a conversation. Opaline was right. The three of them were going to have a lot to talk about later. Even now, just hearing his soft voice was rendering her pulse to pound erratically.

 Again, the thought crossed her mind that Neal might be the one that fate had chosen for her. Suddenly, she realized he was staring at her. He smiled, and she nearly crumbled to the ground. With as much control as Ebba could gather within herself, she returned his smile. Was he interested in her?

 

Narda’s Truth

The Witch DNA #2

Angel numbers & scents unearth a truth that has been hidden for years.

 

Reach for the Soap, owner, Narda Hunt, has been receiving signs in the form of numbers telling her she needs to find her half-sisters, Opaline and Ebba. An imminent threat is about to force them to combine their witch powers to survive.

 

One set of angel numbers brings Narda closer to Owin Waters, whom fate has determined is her soulmate. Their special connection sends them to another realm where Narda meets her deceased mother. She reveals the truth behind the special powers that Narda and her sisters possess.

 

With this knowledge, Narda brings to light the evil that is waiting for her and her sisters on their twenty-fifth birthday.

 

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“I’m usually not this forward on a first date—or any date, as a matter of fact—but I would like it very much if you kissed me.”

Owin gathered her closely against his body. “As a gentleman, your wish is my command.”

His sweet and teasing reply didn’t allow her time to respond as his lips touched hers. Then his mouth covered hers, and she opened her lips. Their tongues touched, and shivers of uncontrolled desire racked her body.

She wanted the moment to never end. It did, however, when the sound of a car horn tore them apart. They eyed each other and laughed. It was as if they were teenagers being caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing.

“Wow. That was some kiss. Did you hear horns too?”

Narda laughed harder. “I think it was more of a beep. I see we have arrived at my new store location. Shall we go in?”

“I’m game if you are. The front window is great for lookers.”

She dug into her purse to withdraw a set of keys and opened the front door. Once inside, she flicked on the lights. Owin followed her inside. Light flooded the open area.

 

Opaline’s Discovery

The Witch DNA Trilogy Book 1

Love. Magic. Danger.

Could these three words articulate distinct spiritual essences to fuse together?

Bookstore owner, Opaline Lunn, facilitates a Speed Dating Event, in hopes of finding her soulmate. She meets attendee Detective Eamon Dayan, who wasn’t looking for love, but sparks fly at their first kiss.

Together they unearth Opaline’s powers which lead to the discovery that she has two sisters, and someone called The Ancient One who wants to kill them.

Unraveling a myriad of mysteries, with Opaline’s newfound ability to do spells, the soulmates must find her sisters by her twenty-fifth birthday to be able to confront the evil force and save all of them.

 

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Now she was waiting for her fourth and final date.

  Eamon.

  Goodness, anticipation is everything.

  She couldn’t believe he wanted to go out with her on a real date. Most guys found her too intellectual. It wasn’t her fault she owned a bookstore and loved to read.  History, fiction, romance, fantasy, sci-fi—it didn’t matter.  Everything was interesting to her. No genre was off limits.

  The buzzer sounded, and she waited for Eamon. He arrived and took his seat. He didn’t say anything. She didn’t either. They sat for a moment, looking at each other, his blue eyes to her green eyes.

  Abruptly, the air surrounding her turned hot, but it wasn’t the kind of hot that made you sweat. It was the kind of sexual intensity that could consume a person, only to let go once it had been satisfied. Opaline fought the urge to fan herself.

  Like a foggy night, the room around the two of them became hazy. Eamon reached across the table and touched her cheek. Her body had a will of its own, and she leaned into his hand, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

  “Opaline? Opaline, are you all right?”

  “Wha-what?”

  The room was clear again when she opened her eyes.

 Eamon hadn’t kissed her. She had imagined the kiss. He hadn’t reached out to her. But he was now. He didn’t touch her cheek. like she had envisioned. Instead, he was touching her hand. Until he wasn’t.

  Goodness sakes alive.

  “Sorry. I guess the excitement of the night has gotten to me,” she said, recovering. “Did you ask me something?”

  “No problem. I asked what you like to eat. If we’re going to go out on a date, I’ll have to find a restaurant because I don’t cook.”

  “I haven’t technically agreed to go out with you.” She laughed nervously.

  “I’m not going to let you say no.”

  “Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” Opaline reached across the table and took his hand. “I guess I don’t have a choice, then. Yes, I would like to go out with you.”

  “Great. Does tomorrow night work for you?”

  “You do work fast,” she said, lowering her voice, which came out in a low silvery tone.

  “Only when I need to.”

  She knew he was implying other things, and she smiled again, wishing he had kissed her.

  The buzzer ended their date, and Opaline stood. Most of the other attendees had finished their dates too. “I hate to rush things, but I need to wrap things up for the event.”

  “If you would like, I can help you with the cleanup,” Eamon said.

  “That’s so thoughtful, and here I was thinking you only liked to give the orders.”

  She saw by the way his head tilted to the side that her reply had caught him off guard. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and he was having a hard time coming up with a comeback. He mustn’t be used to word games like her customers at the bookstore were.  They usually gave it right back to her. Eamon, on the other hand, was still at a loss for words.

  “Yes, I’d love your help. I have to stick around until everyone leaves. I’ll make an announcement to let them know what time we have to be out of here. Then I can—no, we—can start.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll round up my sister to pitch in too,” he said.

  Opaline heard him chuckle and wondered if he had offered his sister’s help without her knowledge.

I was born and raised in the cold and beautiful Minnesota, but I escaped to Illinois for seventeen years to raise my two boys, and now I call Florida home. My husband Andy, who’s always been my hero, has put up with my late night computer typing and endless stacks of papers with my stories on them. We have one furry friend as family: Chip, a sixteen year old ragdoll cat.

Life has been full of ups and downs, but I’ve made it through the hard times. I love to travel and go to Disney World to trade pins.  I’ve been a bowler for many years, and you can catch me writing my next novel at the lanes.

I encourage you to check out my web site, www.sonjagunter.com for more info and don’t be surprised if I let my Norwegian heritage come through in my stories.

Go Vikings! You betcha!

 

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