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So you know Lost Souls has plenty of action and sexy goin’s on, but you probably want to know a little about the magic.
About that… I study a bit. Not sayin’ how much because that’s between me and the moon and trees, but I know some things. What I don’t do very well is create wonderful spells. Cait has the same shortcoming (how convenient is that, right?). Her partner even notes how long it takes her to write a not very good piece of poetry to accompany a very important spell in the book.
But for spells that have a history, that maybe belonged to her mother or Morin, sometimes, I have to pull in the big guns. In book one, I had help from Virginia E with “Mama’s Spell” in the opening scene. In the scene you’re about to read, I fashioned the broom spell, but author Lacey Thorn helped me with cleansing/casting the circle. She’s really very good, and if I get much farther along in the series, I’m gonna tap her again (that somehow didn’t sound quite right but might be interesting too! ).
Enjoy another glimpse into Lost Souls—which releases tomorrow, folks!
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Cait opened her belt and unzipped her jeans. “Why does magic always require someone gettin’ naked?”
“Not always. Sometimes, da spirits like a little pomp. Den you wear a witch’s robes. But right now, gal, you have ta humble yourself.”
“I’m plenty humble.”
“You’re plenty mouthy. Strip! You da one wit’ da favor ta ask.”
Cait stripped off her tank top, toed off her boots, and shoved her pants down her legs.
Celeste gave her body a look, her gaze pointedly lingering on her bra and panties. “Ain’t got not’ing I ain’t seen before. Or dat Morin ain’t touched.”
With her cheeks burning, Cait removed her underwear, shivering a little in the air wafting from a small fan set atop the psychic’s counter.
“Stand in da circle.”
“Which way’s north?”
Celeste pointed, and Cait aligned her body to face that direction.
Celeste gathered short black candles from a shelf and placed one in each point of the pentagram. Then she placed the other items Cait would need in the north corner. She handed Cait a handmade broom made from the stiff silk of broomcorn and stepped back into a shadowy corner.
Remembering another time she’d prepared a magic circle with her mama while standing in their kitchen along with a child’s spell she’d written, Cait held the broom.
“Sweep, sweep,” she whispered, brushing from the center of the circle.
“Sweep away the dark. Brush away the bad.
With whisk and wish, I command thee.” Read the rest of this entry »