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PROLOGUE

ROCHELLE

We’re gathered in Clarissa’s kitchen—laughing, eating, and drinking on the last night of our girl’s weekend. We’ve had an amazing time christening her newly inherited eight-room B&B in Manitou Springs, Colorado. It’s the perfect time of year to visit, as the occult is strong in this tiny community and Halloween is its favorite time of the year.

Last night we watched witchy movies, did tarot card and palm readings, and drank midnight margaritas. Today, we spent the afternoon at the Emma Crawford festival, had dinner at the Loop—more margaritas—before attending a twilight seance at the cemetery where guides told local ghost stories.

Clarissa grabs our attention by handing each of us a note card and a pen. “Ladies, I have the perfect way to end this magical weekend. I want you to write all the characteristics of your perfect man. Physical, mental, spiritual. Be as specific as you can, but here’s the deal. Even if you have someone in mind—an old crush you’ve harbored for years—you cannot write his name or any detail that singles him out. For example: If David from high school has nine toes and is the only mechanic in town, you cannot write David with nine toes who fixes my car. Doing so violates his free will and would come back negatively on you tenfold.”

Some women cackle at the nine toes. “What are we doing, Clarissa?”

She smiles, grabbing a bundle of sage and sweetgrass from a drawer. “We’re casting a love spell to bring the perfect man into our lives.”

I blink. I knew Clarissa was into this hocus-pocusy stuff, and it’s not that I mind, exactly…like every other girl I know, I was fascinated by the Owens sisters in Practical Magic…it’s just that things like love spells don’t really work. They just don’t. You don’t wish for Chris Hemsworth or Henry Cavill and they—poof!—appear at your gym or your favorite coffee place, utterly smitten with you and down on one knee.

Again, not that I would mind that happening, exactly.

“I love this idea.” Tricia takes her pen and feverishly writes.

“Will it work?” Stella eyeballs Clarissa skeptically.

“Of course, it’ll work. All you have to do is open yourself to the possibility of receiving love.”

Okay. Okay, I’ll buy that, the idea of opening myself to love. And what can it hurt even if it doesn’t work? Nothing.

I’ll play.

So what do I really want in a man? What would my perfect man be like, if I could put him together like building a stuffed animal?

I make my list, starting with the necessities and moving to the more frivolous attributes:

Gainfully employed

Respectful of women

Excellent height for kissing

Attractive

Beautiful hands

Likes cats and high fantasy

Skilled in bed, particularly with cunnilingus

After thinking about it a minute, I add one more, completely ridiculous, request. Why not, right? I’ve dated way too many Sams and Jakes and Bens, but never a Heathcliff. Never an Aragorn. Never a Jiriki.

Sexy name—one that could fit a fantasy hero

One by one we make our way to the garden where the fire pit we sat around last night burns with a hint of sweet sage. Clarissa hands each of us a pink candle, instructing us to stand in a circle around the pit and hold the candle in our right hand, the note card in our left. She then walks the circle with a bottle in her hand, placing one drop of oil on each of our cards.

“What’s this?” Sabrina asks.

“Ylang-ylang oil.” Clarissa says as she puts that bottle down and grabs a second bottle, giggling as she walks up to Melinda. “I’m not going to ask everyone to get topless, even though most of us have seen each other at least partially naked, but if you don’t want to get oil on your shirt, move it aside so I can mark your heart. This is rosewood oil, and it’s great for your skin as well as incantations.” Clarissa turns the bottle with her thumb over the opening, and then presses the digit against Melinda’s forehead, throat, and heart.

“Mind, body, and spirit align, let love be thine.”

She moves to the next person, and the next, until she’s marked everyone including me. Then she marks herself, puts the bottle down, grabs her card and candle, and smiles.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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