The Wizard's War Changed Them Both.

Cursed into an enchanted mirror by a son who loves him but disagrees with his motives, Darius believes himself to be suffering in one of the lowest levels of Hell. When luck smiles down on him and delivers the mirror into the hands of an Enchantress he despises, he finds some hope that he may be freed.

Celeste is a prisoner as well. Trapped in a world of darkness, the last thing she desires is to share her home with the bitter wizard that tormented her in the past. Much less help him escape his imprisonment.

But a new evil targets them. It comes from the last place they would expect and it threatens their world in a way that no wizard or witch would ever imagine. They find they must unite with past friends, and past enemies to end this threat to their home and their way of life.

                                                                                                 Excerpt

Word Count: 62,235                      Pages to Print: 228
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    She slept so peacefully. Arthmael watched her in silence from the balcony. He had broken free of the stone that held him the moment the sun had set. The very beat of her heart had tormented him from the moment she had entered the manor.

    Shrinking from his stone size to that of the man he had been before the curse he now shared with his three brothers, he moved to stand on the balcony. He looked completely normal now, aside from the pale color of his skin and the huge black wings protruding from his back. Wrapping them around himself, he looked almost like he was wearing a black cloak.

    His first thought had been of her. Seeing her. He remembered the beauty of the girl who had visited all those years ago, when she was but a child. He had kept his distance then. He scowled inwardly. He should keep his distance now.

    Now, he stared at the beauty within the bed. Long, brunette hair fell across the pillow as she slumbered, unaware of his presence. Her lips were slightly parted. Her chest rose and fell with each rhythmic breath she took.

    His heart sped up as he considered going to her and invading her dreams with soft touches and whispered words of love, spoken in passion. He could give her such dreams. Glancing up, he watched as his brothers flew out across the night sky. They knew that Geraldine had intended Rachel for him. They would not interfere.

    In exchange for the love he could receive from her in her dreams, he'd be her hidden protector. She need never know he was real. He would not interfere in her waking life. He only wanted a small piece of her dreams.

    Unable to deny himself any longer, he stepped up beside her bed and watched her closely for several minutes. The one pleasure he received was when he could enter into another's dreams and explore their fantasies with them.

    Kneeling, he ran his forefinger across her cheek, pushing back a stray hair as he went. When he wiped her brow, he took a deep breath, releasing it as he pressed his thumb over the center of her forehead. Closing his eyes, he slipped easily into her dreams . . .            Back to Rachel's Inheritance

Tarrah's Dream 

    The night was clear. A light breeze feathered her hair away from her face as she stood on the balcony. Her eyes searched the darkness, looking for some sign of the lover she knew would come. He always came.

    For what seemed an eternity, he didn't show. She moved closer to the railing of the balcony and looked over the edge. The tower was too tall for him to climb its steep walls. She wondered briefly exactly where he did come from on those nights when he came to her.

    She was so lost in her own thoughts as she stared out into the darkness, he caught her by surprise when his arms closed around her from behind. Gasping, she started to struggle before his voice stilled her.

    "Ma Belle, you have nothing to fear from me. I want only to be near you. To feel you during this time, when we can be together before the dawn."

    Closing her eyes, she relaxed into him, her back pressed against his chest. "Why must you leave me in the dawn? Could we not share the sunrise together?"

    A deep chuckle escaped him. "You must wake up, Cherie. And I must return to my place as well."

    Confusion wrinkled her brows. "Where? Where must you go?" When she started to turn, he stopped her gently, but firmly.

    "That is unimportant," he answered softly. "What is important is what we do with this limited time we have." His hands began to move gently over her, opening the robe she wore.

    Tarrah's breath caught in her throat when she felt the warmth of his palm touch the soft underside of her breast. She moaned at the sensation as his forefinger rubbed across the tightening skin of her nipple.

    He groaned in response as he caressed the skin on her belly with his other hand; his fingers slid through her nether lips to tease her clit. His touch sent shivers spiraling through her.

   "Come for me, Mon Amour . . . let me hear you cry out for me." As he spoke, his finger rubbed fast across the tender flesh of her nub, making her writhe in his embrace and try to inch closer into the touch.      Back to Tarrah's Dream

Chosen Mate

    Clarissa dropped the parchment and began to cry in earnest. She wouldn't be in this mess, had Lewis lived. He had promised her the year before if such a law should be enacted, he would petition for her.

    Her heart broke at Xavier's gesture. He was in love with a woman who had refused his proposal the year before. Clarissa knew he loved her still. But, he had stepped up and offered to make good on Lewis' promise. She was grateful, but couldn't see herself married to a man who worked with dragons when they could turn so easily. As good as he was with them, she knew eventually the beasts would make her a widow prematurely.

    Randolf's offer was also one made out of sympathy. He had first believed, because of his werewolf status, he would be ineligible. However, the Ministry had made it clear his condition was not seen as too terribly important. He had been informed as long as he and his chosen wife did not consummate their union during the active phases of the moon, any child they had would be unharmed by his curse.

    Clarissa smiled sadly as she considered Randolf. He was her friend. She did love him, but she did not think she could ever bring herself to be intimate with him. It would have been almost like shagging Lewis' dad. Besides, she didn't want to ruin his chances to find true love and happiness.

    Scanning the remaining names, she sighed. Daniel had petitioned for her only at the request of Father. He had no desire to marry her, much less have children with her. She was sure of that much.       Back to Chosen Mate

The Eternal

    Standing in front of the mirror, Jessica wet her hands in the sink, and then used one to dampen her forehead and the back of her neck. When she stood again to her full height, she stared into the mirror's depths, close to tears. It's just in my head, it is just my imagination, she told herself. This was not one of her premonitions! She was just imagining things from that crazy dream. He just resembled the man in her dreams. That wasn't Shameer. It couldn't have been. There was no way humanly possible. Shameer was a vampire, and vampires didn't exist.

    "There is no reason for you to act so stupid," she scolded herself aloud. "He's just another pretty face." She nodded at her reflection in the mirror, trying to believe what she said. "Yeah, that's it. Just another completely, surreally gorgeous man, probably out looking to get laid."

    "Excuse me?" the deep, slightly accented voice said to her, touching her soul like a gentle breeze, but shocking her nonetheless. She turned so fast she lost her balance and would have slipped on the hard floor, had his hands not caught and steadied her.

    He held her, remaining close to her even after she had regained her footing. Once again, they looked into each other's eyes, feelings rushed unbidden between them. "My dear, are you all right?" he asked softly, holding her to him, almost as though afraid to let her go.

    She flicked her tongue across her dry lips as she nodded, afraid to attempt speech. Unexpected heat coiled through her as she stood locked in his arms. Images of her dream floated once more through her mind. They moved through her like a whirlwind, turning into a shudder. Her breath escaped her as she felt his hand running through her hair.

    Longing filled her at the feel of his other hand touching her cheek. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

    His eyes moved to the exposed column of her neck. The vein pulsed, open to him. He could take her; it would be easy; he could feel the beating of her heart like a drum with his own. It would be so easy.

    He gently leaned toward her and placed a soft kiss at the base of her throat, before turning and mumbling a hasty, "I'm sorry," as he moved away from her and back through the doorway of the lavatory, leaving her once again, alone.

    Opening her eyes, she stared at the empty doorway, confused, surprised―and disappointed; so terribly disappointed. Her hand went to the spot on her throat where he had kissed her. She felt the pulse beneath her fingers. Shaking her head, she looked back at her reflection, eyes going to her neck, checking. "Oh, now I know I am crazy," she said to the mirror, cursing at herself for being so stupid.        Back to The Eternal

Eternal Moon

    "No. I don't think they're targeting me," she lied. "I just think that these guys are taking girls that are psychically talented." She shrugged before continuing, "I can easily hide my gift. It isn't very noticeable. I just wouldn't want to lead anyone to you if there were any of them watching me. You know?" Penny scoffed on the other end. "I don't do my talent openly!"

    Lilith chuckled softly at that, "Yeah, but you don't not do it in the privacy of your own home, either." she sighed. "I'm just not willing to take the risk, okay?"

    Penny groaned. "Okay, all right. But listen, you have to promise me that you will get your ass out here if matters get worse. Okay? There is safety in numbers. Got it?"

    Just as Lilith opened her mouth to answer, she saw a wolf run into the safety of her yard. That wasn't not possible! Surely one of those damn things hadn't found a way through the magical barrier she'd worked so hard to put into place.

    Flipping the light switch in the kitchen off, she stood in the darkness weighing her options. A clearing throat on the other end of the phone line reminded her that her friend was still there.

    "Penny, I promise, okay? Now let me let you go before we run up the phone bill so much we can't talk again this month! I love you, bye!" As she hung up the phone, she watched the wolf shift into human form before her eyes. When he made for the front door of her cottage, she cursed, running into the hall. Grabbing her shotgun, she prepared herself for whatever was about to take place.

 ****

    Soon he reached what he'd been seeking, an old abandoned cottage. Enough human scents lingered around the old house that maybe it would throw that thing off of his trail. Glancing around, he looked for some sign of the beast. When he found he was indeed alone, he let go of his hold on the wolf's form and became a man.

    Moving quickly, he stepped into the cottage he'd known would be here, thankful he'd not forgotten the way. When he closed the door, he heard a shocked intake of breath. He pivoted toward the sound and found a dark-haired woman with startling blue eyes and a rifle aimed at his head. "So, tell me," she spoke slowly. "Did a thief steal your clothes, or did you shed them to become one of those things outside?"

    Darmetheus faced her with wide eyes. Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, he spoke softly. "You are safe, okay? I am not one of those things."

    The girl gave an exasperated laugh with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah . . . and I'm Santa Claus' cousin."

    Darmetheus couldn't stop himself. "Merry Christmas," he said in a low voice. His eyes never left hers. He could take the gun from her in mere seconds, but that would only alarm her more. So instead, he stood stock still and tried to reason with her. "Come on, think about it. I was riding my bike through town. Those things jumped me and I ran."

    The girl stepped out of the shadows and closer to him, giving him a better view of her stunning looks. She was short. No more than five-foot, two with long black hair and eyes that looked like a clear sky in winter. "Really? Then where are your clothes?"

    He would have been completely mesmerized by her looks if he hadn't found himself staring down the barrel of her shotgun. Yeah, idiot! Lie your way out of that one! Darmetheus winced at the thought. "I took them off. A piece here, a piece there, trying to scatter my scent."

    Indecision seemed to cloud her crystal blue eyes for a moment before she lowered the gun slightly. "You swear to me, you aren't one of those things?"

    He nodded. "Yes. I swear. I was just passing through. I would have gone a different way if I'd known there were rabid dogs out and about."

    Shivering at the thought, she whispered, "Those things aren't dogs. They aren't even wolves." Lowering her shotgun, she moved to the closet and pulled out a large t-shirt, and a pair of sweats. "This might fit you, I guess."

    He caught the clothes she tossed at him and looked at the bright pink t-shirt with disdain. "Do you have anything a little less . . . feminine?"

    Snickering, she rolled her eyes for the second time since they'd met. "Not that would fit you, I don't." She said, looking his masculine frame over. "You're huge!" She sat the gun down in the corner and moved to lock the door. "I'm Lilith. My father bought this cottage when I was little. I moved in when all the crazy things started happening in town."

    Darmetheus quirked an eyebrow at her. "But, why wouldn't you just stay in town? Isn't it safer there?" Lilith shook her head. "No. Those things aren't intimidated by locked doors, or silver . . . or much of anything else, for that matter. They'll come right into your home and steal you from your bed. The only people that don't seem to be too bothered are the ones who don't live in town."

    He frowned. "Well, that's weird."                    Back to Eternal Moon

Magic's Reflection

    The fire burned. Bitterly, he stared at the immortal flame before him. He truly hated Nathaniel Jameson. He hated every little thing about the tiresome boy. He dallied with the lives around him without even thinking about the consequences of his carelessness. Oh, sure, the boy was brave. As brave as any other fool who thought himself invincible! But, in the end, his bravery had counted for naught. He had died anyway, killed in the same blast that had also cost The Shadow his own life.

    Darius smirked. Who would have thought it would happen that way? Who would have guessed that what would kill the one, would also snuff out the life of the other? So now, he was stuck. A Keeper behind the reflection of the Looking Glass. Encased within the walls of this hard, cold mirror. Cursed here by his own son. Krystov had surprised him at the last moment by switching sides. Memories of the day his son had cast the spell that sent him into the accursed glass drifted through his mind. . .

    . . ."Father, I fear you will be sent to the Keep, if you are anywhere near this final battle. I'm sorry for deceiving you . . . but you're on the losing side of this war. I don't want you to suffer the same fate as Mother." Magic in hand, Krystov had cursed Darius into the mirror and left him stranded inside its depths with no choice but to watch the final battle with no possible way of adding his strength to either side. As he'd watched, he'd seen the moments of the final battle. He watched helplessly as Krystov, Justin, Celeste, and Nathaniel fought side by side. Celeste had been knocked out by the same blast that had killed both The Shadow and Nathaniel, while Justin scrambled to pull both her and Krystov away from the blast.

    When the smoke cleared Darius could see no sign of them. Darius was alone inside the depths of the damnable mirror with no knowledge of the fate of his son―or anyone else, for that matter. He'd watched as Rebecca went mad as a result of her worry for their son when he was given his first duty as a Mage Traitor. Darius scowled at the thought of how weak she'd turned out to be. She'd succumbed to the fears in her mind and was now locked away in the Magical Hospital. She had no chance of ever leaving the safety of the padded cell that was warded against Magic, so she could not even manage to take her own life and end her misery.

    Well, he sneered at the thought; at least she never had to know what had become of him. Not that the witch had ever cared. No one missed him. He doubted if anyone ever even bothered looking for him now. He was long forgotten. Discarded . . . scarcely a recollection. A distant, unpleasant memory of the past. It all seemed so long ago now. He'd been inside this accursed mirror for what was beginning to seem like an eternity. Worse still, the mirror, for some reason, had fallen into Mortal hands.

    As best he could tell, the mirror was now housed in some kind of antiquities store. There was little hope that he would ever know rescue from this glass of the 'Keep' now. Krystov had disappeared after the battle. He'd never returned to claim the mirror as he'd promised he would. For all Darius knew, he was dead. A moment of panic assailed him as once more, the thought of an eternity spent behind this looking glass invaded his mind. It was a fate worse than death!

    Sinking down in the darkness of the Keep, he wondered if there was ever to be a reprieve from this hell he found himself in. Surely, there was a way to end this torment. As he sat, mulling over his predicament, he heard the sound of voices. Curious, he rose and moved to the mirror's edge to see who was talking. A woman with oddly familiar features was talking to the shop's attendant: "I am just so delighted by how well preserved this old mirror is. You always have such lovely things here."

    The middle-aged woman smiled first at the saleswoman, then up at the mirror. "And I just know this would be the perfect addition to my daughter's home. She needs something to brighten the place up." Darius' jaw clenched as he masked his face with his most fearsome scowl. She thinks to buy me? He moved closer to the mirror's edge, wishing his face could be seen by the two unknowing Mortals. He wanted to scream at them to open their eyes and see him. Oblivious to their unseen observer, the two women negotiated the price of the antique mirror.

    Darius stared at them, appalled. He watched in horror as the strangely familiar woman paid for the mirror and the sales clerk called her son to pack the artifact. He scowled at the scrawny boy who moved to grasp the mirror's frame. "If you drop me, you'll regret it!" The boy hefted the mirror up over his head without any indication he'd even heard Darius. The wizard cursed angrily.

    It mattered not one bit if he ranted and raved about the boy carrying him, or that the woman buying his mirror looked oddly familiar. All that mattered was that he was being taken away from this place. Perhaps the woman would have an inkling of Magic in her blood and might even help him escape from this glass keep. It was a momentary ray of hope, one that faded when the mirror's depths were thrown into darkness as the wrapping paper covered his only source of light.

    "I hope you don't mind, dear, but, I brought you a house warming present." Darius found himself listening intently to the voice of the woman who had purchased him. He wondered if the daughter was as boringly Mortal as the mother. When the voice came, it was a sweet sound to his ears. "Thanks, Mum. You really didn't have to bring me anything." Darius trembled with an excitement he could barely contain. He knew that voice. He'd heard it before, many times he had listened to the little smart-ass explain this and that to her friends, and upon occasion, even his son.

    Celeste Swansong! Of course! That was why the other lady's unruly curls and flashing eyes had seemed so familiar! Darius silently thanked the powers that be for the mercy they'd seen fit to show upon him. Surely, Miss Swansong will be able to see my face in the mirror and will know how to reach Krystov. Then, he would know freedom again! "Nonsense," her mother chirped happily. "This mirror will look stunning above the mantle."

    "Oh . . ." Darius could hear a vague sense of disappointment in Celeste's voice. "You brought a mirror?"

    Mrs. Swansong turned and regarded her daughter for a moment. "Yes, well, it's a beautiful antique, and I just thought it would look lovely here."

     Celeste sighed and returned her attention to the book in her hands. "I'm sure you're right mother." Her voice dropped lower, making it impossible for Darius to hear her soft mumble. Suddenly, Darius was almost blinded as the wrapping paper was torn away from him. Stepping forward, he looked out to gauge his new surroundings. Actually, he was quite impressed by what he saw. Celeste's mother had seen fit to place him in a room that was obviously a cozy little library. A warm fire burned in the hearth below him, and an easy chair rested a few feet away from it. A desk sat at the far side of the room. Several books were stacked upon it.

    Hesitantly, Darius stepped up to the mirror's edge and gazed out into the room. Celeste sat in the easy chair, running her hand along the page of her book, oblivious to the mirror. He observed her intently for a few moments. For some reason, although her fingers seemed to be following the words, her eyes did not focus on the page. However, it wasn't until her mother spoke that the reason for her strange behavior dawned on him. "Just because you've lost your eyesight doesn't mean your guests have. Your friends might appreciate something pleasing to the eye here." She smiled as she moved to kiss Celeste's cheek. "And besides . . . this is not a permanent situation. You will regain your eyesight one day."

    Celeste huffed a sound of discontent and snapped the book closed before turning toward her mother. "You've been saying that since the final battle, but there's been no change! Mum, I love you," her voice had risen at first, but softened as she addressed the older woman softly, "but I am never going to regain my eyesight. It's been two years. I'm all right the way I am. I'm even fairly content. At least I haven't lost my memory, like Krystov, or my arm, like Justin. Or even my life . . ." she paused for a moment to sigh regretfully, "like Nathaniel."

    Darius drew a sharp breath at the mention of Krystov. Lost his memory? But that would mean . . . Darius took a deep breath to try and calm himself. That is why he never came back to free me. Someone cursed my son. Concern made him want to ask her a million questions. Was he recovering? Did he still have the Manor? Was he happy?       Back to Magic's Reflection