Spotlight: The Magical Christmas Cottage by Aimee O’Brian

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(Charmed Love, #3)

Publication date: October 23rd 2025

Genres: Adult, Holiday, Romance

In the small town of Hazard, sometimes love is the greatest Christmas miracle.

Alina McAllister is starting fresh in the charming town of Hazard, Rhode Island, with a simple plan: take a docent job at the Historical Society and embrace the magic of the season. But when her landlady Hazel suffers a stroke, everything changes. Hazel’s grumpy yet undeniably handsome grandson, Carter Bestwick, swoops into town determined to sell the cottage and move on with his corporate life. He needs Alina to leave—immediately.

With nowhere to go and a snowstorm trapping them together, Alina and Carter are forced into close quarters. What starts as a tense, begrudging arrangement soon sparks undeniable chemistry. As they clear out the attic, they discover Hazel’s magical wedding bands—heirlooms passed down through generations since the Revolutionary War—and find that sometimes, the magic of love is closer than they think.

In this heartwarming, opposites-attract holiday romance, Alina and Carter may just find that the greatest gift of all is an unexpected love.

Excerpt

There it was again—scratching at the lock. Someone was definitely trying to get in.

Alina crept, step by barefoot step, down creaking stairs, holding the banister and her breath. She paused at the landing before rounding the corner. She peered down the remaining steps into dimness. She’d left the porchlight on. Through a little square stained-glass window of a dove in flight, a shadow shifted—a head, the head of someone tall. She tensed. And then she heard it—a man, cursing.

He didn’t sound like he was sneaking. He sounded frustrated.

The doorknob rattled once, twice. Then the door shook, hard.

Bam!

Had he kicked it?

Alina shot down the steps to grab up an umbrella from the metal urn in the tiny entryway. She raised it up high over her head, ready for battle.

The door flew open, smacking the wall. Alina shrieked.

A man—six feet tall (at least) and, even in the dimness, obviously handsome—charged into the cottage, still cursing, this time softer and under his breath.

Ready to defend her haven, umbrella poised to smash into his head, Alina hesitated.

The man halted under the mistletoe when he saw her.

“What on earth…”

The umbrella popped open. Meany, perched on top of the bookcase, hissed and dived superman-style, claws out. The intruder, arms flailing to defend his face from flying cat claws, stepped sideways and slipped on the hand-hooked throw rug. Stumbling backward, he slammed into the wall.

He appeared so disheveled, so discombobulated, and so exasperated that Alina dropped the now-open umbrella patterned with images of cats and dogs falling through raindrops. She put her fist to her mouth to choke back a laugh. He looked ridiculous and not scary at all, especially with snow in his hair melting down his face and onto notably wide shoulders.

He got his wits, steadied himself. With a passing glare at the cat—now seated on the bunched-up throw rug casually washing its privates—the intruder turned his wrath on Alina.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my grandmother’s house?”

Alina’s laughter died. She blinked.

“Hazel’s your grandma?” Alina’s heart lifted at the thought of Hazel’s family finally coming to see her. “But that’s wonderful!”

“Excuse me?” The scowling man shook himself a little and brushed at the snow on his jacket.

Alina hesitated at his expression. “It’s… wonderful… that you’re here. You know she’s in the hospital, right? The nurses said her grandson calls every day. And now you’re here. You’re Carter, right?”

His angry gaze homed in on her face. “Who. Exactly. Are you?”

“Alina.”

They stared at each other.

“Alina who?” He spoke slowly and with emphasis, like she was a child or someone who didn’t understand English.

“Alina McAllister. Oh dear, Hazel didn’t tell you. I’m the new docent for the Hazard Historical Society.”

“And, what, you just thought you could squat here while my grandmother is in the hospital?”

“Squat! Oh, you—that’s awful. I am not squatting. I will have you know that I never squat.”

“Ever,” said Carter, with a disbelieving eyebrow raise.

“Ever,” bristled Alina.

“Is that right? How about you explain then, what exactly you’re doing here in the middle of the night.”

Alina put her hands on her hips. “I live here.”

Carter blanched like she’d struck him. She’d been so pleased to meet Hazel’s grandson, finally, after hearing so many high praises from the nursing staff taking care of Hazel. Carter Bestwick this. Carter Bestwick that. The nurses talked like he was a hero who would save the day and make everything better.

Alina visited her landlady every day to comfort her and keep her spirits up, wondering all the time why the sainted grandson had yet to appear. One of the nurses, Maddy, said she knew Carter from high school, and that he was, oh, so responsible. And now, here he was—oh, so arrogant and scathing and not anything, anything at all, like what Alina had pictured. He was certainly nothing like Hazel. Alina wasn’t even sure how they could be related.

Carter was studying her like she was distasteful, like a bug to be squished. “You can’t be here,” he said.

And that just did it.

Alina planted her bare feet firmly, despite the cold seeping into them from the hardwood floor. She stood straighter—to her full height of five foot four—her spine rigid. “You need to leave,” she said, wishing her voice hadn’t trembled as she said it.

“Leave? Me? You expect me to leave?” His voice rose as his six feet towered over her. “Oh, that is not happening.”

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About the Author

Having lived in both California and Texas, award-winning author Aimee O’Brian now resides in the beautiful wine country where she writes dark, sexy, funny romance. With her three children grown and experiencing their own adventures, she and her husband are free to explore the world. When she’s not reading, writing, or planting even more flowers in her garden, she can be found stomping through ancient ruins and getting lost in museums.

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Spotlight: Marc McKnight Time Travel Adventures Series by Kim Megahee

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In Marc McKnight Time Travel Adventures by Kim Megahee, one man’s mission to safeguard the timeline becomes a decades-spanning struggle for his soul.

Captain Marc McKnight is trained to follow orders, not instincts — but when time travel makes both possible, he’s forced to choose between logic and love. In Time Limits, what should have been a simple one-week mission in 1985 unravels when human emotion enters the equation, creating an alternate timeline that haunts him. The Time Twisters sends McKnight against a cabal of renegade travelers who manipulate time to seize the presidency, transforming history into a chessboard of deceit. Time Revolution carries him to the year 2086, where a second American Revolution rages, and the line between patriot and terrorist has vanished. Then in Time Plague, McKnight’s final test arrives: a deadly virus from the future threatens humanity’s extinction — and only his most dangerous adversary holds the key to saving it. It’s a sweeping saga of love, loss, redemption, and the human need to make sense of time’s cruel design.

An Excerpt from Chapter 2 of TIME LIMITS by Kim Megahee

A few minutes later, they were on a path in a pine forest. A light breeze eased the heat of the Georgia sun and the pines whispered to them as they walked further into the woods.

McKnight glanced back in the direction they had come, then at the trail ahead. There was no one in sight. He pulled a form and a pen from his pocket and handed them to Tyler.

“First, the paperwork, Lieutenant. What I’m about to tell you is top secret and cannot be shared with unauthorized personnel, regardless of whether you accept the assignment. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Sign the paper.”

Tyler signed and handed it back.

“Very good. Lieutenant, they've asked me to assemble a team to plan and execute missions using a new technology. The size of the team is fewer than ten, including two civilian scientists. I’d like you to be my exec for operations. I need a mission planner with leadership ability, and you’re it. The rest of the team’s still under construction, except for one scientist. We’ll be reporting to General Drake with oversight from Senator Lodge.”

 “Working for the Dragon would be good. Oversight from Lodge? That’s not so good. He’s my Senator, but I didn’t vote for him. He’s a damned crocodile. I don’t trust him.”

“Lodge is the General’s problem. We’re the grunts. Our job is to execute.”

“So, what’ll we be doing?”

“The team is being called the HERO Project.” 

Tyler rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, I know. Stay with me, Lieutenant. HERO stands for Historical Event Research Organization. In a nutshell, we’re going to be researching and validating historical events. Here, let’s take a load off.” 

They sat on a wood bench alongside the running trail. McKnight looked across the path at a dogwood in full bloom and a bank of azaleas in unrestrained spring glory. Bumblebees hummed in and around the flowers. 

“If you’re trying to sell me on how exciting the project will be, you’re failing miserably. Sounds like we’d be spending the next few years in the library and on the net, writing papers. Doesn’t sound like fun to me. Is there something I’m missing here?”

A thin smile formed on McKnight’s face. “Well, Lieutenant, I daresay we’ll be doing paperwork. I didn’t mention libraries or the net.”

Tyler scrunched up his face. “Then how? No library, no net. Where’s that leave us? Interviewing elderly witnesses?”

McKnight shook his head, waiting for Tyler to make the leap. Tyler sat on the bench, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together and his head down. After a moment, he looked at McKnight.

“You can’t be suggesting what I’m thinking.”

He’s getting there. “And what is that, Lieutenant?”

“Nope. I’m not going to say it. I must be missing something.” He paused. “All right. How do we witness an event in the past? We don’t have the technology to…. Wait, you mentioned a new technology, didn’t you?”

“I did.” McKnight allowed himself a little smile. One last hint. “You took physics at the Point, right?”

“What? Of course.”

“Um-hmm.” 

Tyler stared at him. His eyes narrowed and darted around. He resumed the position with his elbows on his knees and his eyes on the ground. 

“Who’s the scientist?” he said without looking up.

“Robert Astalos. He does research at MIT–”

“I'm familiar with him. I read a white paper he and his family wrote last year about interstellar propulsion. Son and grandson, I believe, all with the same name. Let’s see… Einstein related speeds close to the speed of light with time slowing down. Nobody has proved that wrong. And gravity is not a force, but a distortion of time-space. Everitt validated that.” Tyler sat up straight and looked McKnight in the eye. “Astalos invented time travel?”

Bingo. “Well, I’ll let him share the specifics with you, but that’s the bottom line. Interested, Lieutenant?” 

 “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t be? Anything else you want to tell me? Do we have aliens in Area 51?”

McKnight laughed. “Not that I know of. Want the rest of the details, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir. You bet I do.”

“I thought you might. Here’s the short form. We’ll operate out of the DC area. Only a few people know about this. The charter for the HERO Team is strictly research. We’re forbidden to do anything that might affect history. There’s a mandatory risk/benefit analysis and research period required before traveling to make sure we cover the bases. No options, no exceptions, unless the President issues an Executive Order to bypass the process. 

“The other civilian on the team will be another planner, your civilian counterpart. He or she hasn’t been picked yet. The General’s reserved the right to pick that person. You and I get no say,” McKnight said, holding up his hand to cut off any objection. “We need a shitload of testing before we can do any work. We don’t know enough about the technology yet. Questions?”

“Ha! Only a few hundred. This is supposed to be secret? Nobody outside the organization knows about it?”

“Well, for as long as that lasts. Congress is involved, right?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised the word isn't out already.”

McKnight shrugged. “The day is young. But yes, until we hear otherwise from the General, the project doesn’t exist and we’re working on special projects for Colonel Stewart.”

“Okay. Why do we need the civilian planner?” Tyler asked.

“The official word is to balance the team. I suspect it’s because Congress doesn’t trust the military. I assume it’ll be an egghead guy with serious credentials and no government ties. Drake wants someone with no agenda.”

“Got it. Do you have anyone else in mind for the team?”

“I do,” McKnight said. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket and handed it to Tyler. “What do you think?”

“Lieutenant Mitch Wheeler. From North Georgia College, right? Good pick. Has a degree in physics if I remember correctly.”

“Yep. That one was easy. And his buddy Hatcher, too.”

“Yes, sir. Should be a good team.” Tyler handed the list back.

“Glad you approve.” McKnight checked the time on his phone. “I need to go catch a plane, Lieutenant. Transition your work ASAP and report to me in DC Monday week. Questions?”

“Yes, sir, but they can wait until next week.”

“Very good. I have two more instructions for you.” He stood and Tyler followed.

“What’s that, sir?”

McKnight smiled at his new executive officer. “Number one, don’t bring any preconceptions about time travel with you. Doctor Astalos says most of what the science fiction writers came up with was wrong.” 

“And number two?” 

“The other two Robert Astalos’s? The men that coauthored that paper?”

“Yes?” 

“They aren’t his son and grandson. They’re all him. They call themselves Robert, Rob and Robby, but they’re all the same guy.” 

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About the Author

Kim Megahee’s path to storytelling mirrors his protagonist’s search for meaning in complexity. A mathematician turned programmer turned novelist, Kim spent decades deciphering systems before turning that analytical eye inward — toward human motivation and consequence. His first story, “The Camping Parachute,” was published in SouthernReader.com and sparked a second act devoted to creative exploration. From his home in Gainesville, Georgia, where he lives with his wife, Martha, and their clever poodle, Leo, Kim writes stories that blend technology, philosophy, and the heart’s endless contradictions. Find him through his website, Instagram, or Facebook.

Spotlight: Winter in the High Sierra by Robert Brighton

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Publication date: October 1st 2025

Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

November 1899. New York society belle Louisa MacGregor, heartsick after a broken engagement, flees her old life aboard the last westbound train of the season, whose track cuts through the very heart of the steep and forbidding Sierra Nevada Mountains.

When an early blizzard traps her train in a remote mountain pass, Louisa is fast asleep in her luxurious palace car. The big train proves too heavy to make it over the snow-covered summit, and the engineer makes a fateful decision: to lighten the load, he crowds all his passengers into the first two cars and leave the rest of his train behind to the mercy of the elements.

Asleep, Louisa does not hear the conductor’s urgent cries, and she and her palace car are left behind. When she awakens, she finds herself cold, alone, and deserted in the most rugged wilderness on the continent.

She is near despair when a solitary mountain man—whom she comes to know only as ‘Bandit’—locates her abandoned train. The handsome, mysterious Bandit—who seems to carry with him a deep sadness of his own—leads Louisa over the mountaintops and down to his tidy cabin, nestled in a secluded valley surrounded by the towering peaks of the High Sierra.

With no prospect of rescue until spring, Lou and Bandit must find a way to survive the deadliest winter in fifty years. Trapped in a wild mountain paradise that is by turns unspeakably beautiful and utterly terrifying, these two lost people must learn to trust each other—and, perhaps, find the true meaning of life, love, and redemption.

Rich with historical detail, wilderness adventure, and heartfelt romance, Winter in the High Sierra is a sweeping, inspirational, clean love story perfect for readers who enjoy:

Heartfelt clean romances

Nature and healing journeys

Inspirational love stories with grace

Snowbound survival stories

Western mountain wilderness stories

Historical fiction with emotional depth

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About the Author

Acclaimed author Robert Brighton is an authority on the Gilded Age, and a great believer that the Victorian era was anything but stuffy. In his immersive fiction books, Brighton exposes the turbulence of the era - its passions, dreams, and disasters - against a backdrop of careful research on the places, sights, sounds, and smells of the time. 

When he is not walking the streets in the footsteps of the Avenging Angels, sniffing out unsolved mysteries, Brighton is an adventurer. He has traveled in more than 50 countries around the world, personally throwing himself into every situation his characters will face - from underground ruins to opium dens - and (so far) living to tell about it. 

A graduate of the Sorbonne, Paris, Brighton is an avid student of early 20th Century history and literature, an ardent and relentless investigator, and an admirer of Emily Dickinson and Jim Morrison. He lives in Virginia with his wife and their two cats. 

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Spotlight: Howling Storm by Nicola Italia

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Publication date: October 15th 2025

Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery

Synopsis:

A vanished sister. A spooky village. A killer hiding in plain sight.

When Imogene York stumbles upon a long-lost letter hinting at the fate of her sister Felicity who has been missing for over a decade, it leads her to the village of Linwood. Posing as a secretary in the powerful Linwood household, Imogene begins a covert investigation into Felicity’s disappearance.

Her only confidant is Spencer St. George, the village architect with secrets of his own. As fellow outsiders, they forge a connection that transcends mere friendship. But as their bond deepens, so do the dangers surrounding them. Imogene’s search for the truth causes her to cross paths with a killer whose dark impulses are tightly interwoven with Linwood’s past.

As Imogene edges closer to uncovering what happened to her sister, she must confront a chilling truth: the monster she seeks is not be lurking in the shadows… but hiding in plain sight.

Excerpt

Prologue

In the former ancient royal hunting forest, the silence was almost deafening. If a bird had chirped or an owl had screeched, it might have even been comforting to hear. She would know she wasn’t alone. But the still of the night was all the more terrorizing for its emptiness. She put a hand to her breast as it rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breathing.

The snap of a twig nearby sounded like a shot in the night, and she wished she could melt into the trunk of the tree. Sweat trickled down her lower back, and her dress felt sticky against her skin in the cool night air. She looked out into the woodland park, and inky blackness greeted her.

She brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, which was wet with perspiration, then wiped her hand on her skirt. She touched the gold locket that hung about her neck and felt the weight of it in her hand. She released it and put her palms behind her to steady herself, feeling the rough bark of the tree trunk against her smooth palms.

The dark forest was filled with trees upon trees, with no landmark that gave her a sense of where she was. She was lost. The road was somewhere to her left, but as night had fallen, she could not see how far it might be. Even if a carriage came by, the small lantern the driver carried would not penetrate into the woods for her to see.

“Why are you running? I won’t hurt you.”

The words taunting her. She pushed a small fist against her mouth to stem the desire to cry out in a hysterical laugh. She knew everything—why lie to her? And hurt her? She shuddered at the thought of it.

She heard the rustle of steps upon the ground and tried to still her breathing. She wanted to cry out in frustration. Why had she done this? Why had she come out into the night? If she were caught-no.

She couldn’t think that way. She refused to think that way. She moved swiftly in the opposite direction of the footsteps, holding the hem of her skirt as she went.

If only she had waited. If only she had not discovered the secret. She could still see it and the terrifying secret that had been hidden. God, she wanted it erased from her mind.

She felt confident that if she kept going in this direction, she would reach the road. It had to be the right way. Her skirts wrapped around her legs as she moved quickly, and she stumbled lightly on a small mound. But kept moving. She had to keep moving until she found the road.

She moved around a tree, and a low branch swung out and hit her in the face. It stung her eyes and she cried out. She heard the steps behind her quicken and knew she’d been discovered. She swore under her breath. She had to keep her wits about her. Don’t panic, keep moving, she told herself.

She stumbled again, and this time her knee took the brunt of the fall. She skinned it and winced but kept moving. Her heart was beating fast as she felt the brush underneath her, and the grass and rocks made moving in the dark difficult.

Her name was called out, but she moved resolutely on. She looked left, then right, feeling like a hunted hare. Which way to go? Her eyes scanned the land before her, and then, she saw it. Ahead of her to the right. The small cottage with a light in the downstairs window. She sagged with relief. Her heart soared and she almost cried out in happiness. She hoped there was a brawny man inside who would be willing to bar the door and protect her from the evil of the night.

She ran down the small hill in the dark, through the trees and past the clearing of tall grass, and she didn’t even cry out when she hit her toe against a small rock. The cottage door was painted such a dark blue it looked black in the night. She knocked twice on the door, but without waiting to receive word to enter, she flung it open.

The paraffin lamp flickered inside the small room as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the large fireplace and hearth and someone seated before it, their back to her in a yellow rocking chair.

“Excuse me,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry for entering without being bade to enter but—” 

The figure adjusted its body and turned to stare at her.

“No,” she whispered, her voice catching. “No.”

She took a step back on shaky legs, her toe still smarting from the rock. She took a second step.

You’ve nowhere else to go,” the voice in the yellow rocking chair mocked. 

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About the Author

Nicola is a Los Angeles native. Early in elementary school, Nicola had a great fondness for reading and began to write creatively. She graduated from university with a degree in communications and has held a variety of positions in journalism, education, government and non profit.

Nicola has traveled extensively throughout Europe, China, Central America and Egypt and loves all things historical.

She has nineteen historical romance and mystery novels on Amazon. 

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Spotlight: Guarded Time by Stephanie Hansen

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Outlander meets What the Wind Knows with a dash of The Tudors

Genre: Historical Romantasy 

Outlander meets What the Wind Knows with a dash of The Tudors

Claudia, Alex, and Marie embark on a perilous journey back through the swirling mists of time, their hopes pinned on averting a looming tragedy. As they navigate the tangled web of history, vivid memories of Alex and Claudia’s enduring love flicker across the timelines, a testament to their unyielding bond. Their destination is the tumultuous Ireland of 1649, a land poised precariously on the brink of siege. It is a treacherous era to traverse, where danger lurks at every corner.

In their quest, they immerse themselves within the ancient covens, becoming an integral part of the tightly knit community of Drogheda. The air is thick with tension, the kind that crackles and hums, as they wrestle with the monumental task before them. Caught in the crossfire of history, they face the daunting challenge of halting the impending slaughter of the town while grappling with the complex emotions tied to saving the beloved of their sworn nemesis.

As the stakes grow ever higher, the question looms large: will the timeless love between Alex and Claudia endure the trials they face, or are there formidable forces at work beyond their control, threatening to unravel the very fabric of their shared destiny?

*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.

Excerpt

 “We can solidify our plans tomorrow,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his touch spreads throughout my body, igniting a fire inside me.

Our lips meet in a slow and tender kiss, but it quickly builds into something more passionate. I grip his hair while he gently angles his head for a deeper connection. Our bodies press together, our hearts beating in perfect synchronization.
“Claudia,” Alex groans in protest as I push him to the edge.
I know what a respectable girl should not do, but after everything we’ve been through and traveling hundreds of years into the past, I’m pretty sure that rules no longer apply.

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About the Author

Stephanie Hansen is a PenCraft and Global Book Award Winning Author as well as an Imadjinn finalist. Her debut novella series, Altered Helix, released in 2020. It hit the #1 New Release, #1 Best Seller, and other top 100 lists on Amazon. It is now being adapted to an animated story for Tales. Her debut novel, Replaced Parts, released in 2021 through Fire & Ice YA and Tantor Audio. It has been in a Forbes article, hit Amazon bestseller lists, and made the Apple young adult coming soon bestsellers list. The second book in the Transformed Nexus series, Omitted Pieces, released in 2022. Her debut spicy paranormal romance, Ghostly Howls, released 2023. Her debut historical magical realism, Armored Hours, released 2024. She is a member of the deaf and hard of hearing community, so she tries to incorporate that into her fiction.

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Spotlight: Sense, Sensibility and Shifters: L Mad Hildebrandt, Bianca White, Roslyn St. Clair, Ann C. Orlandi, Angela Kady, Gabbi Grey, AK Nevermore

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A Paranormal Jane Austen Retellings Collection

Romance Café Collection Book 46

Genre: Paranormal Romance Anthology

Jane Austen’s timeless love stories take on a supernatural twist in Sense, Sensibility and Shifters, a captivating anthology of paranormal romance.

Step into a world where Darcy’s pride hides a dark secret, and Elizabeth’s prejudice may cost her more than her heart. Each story in this anthology brings an iconic Austen romance to life in a thrilling new way.

From the mysterious moors of Northanger Abbey to the haunted halls of Pemberley, Sense & Sensibility and Shifters invites you to experience classic love stories with an otherworldly edge.

Perfect for readers who adore the elegance of Austen and the allure of the paranormal, this anthology will whisk you away to a world where love is ethereal, powerful, and worth every risk.

Including:

The Tables Turned by Angela Kady

Brewing Affection by Ann C. Orlandi

Pride and Possession by Roslyn St. Clair

In the Service of Heaven by Bianca White 

Shift of Heart by Ariel Dawn

Emma, the Enchanter by L Mad Hildebrandt

My Beloved Witch by Gabbi Grey 

And featuring:

Couching Serendipity by AK Nevermore

Vexed by an offhand comment, jinn Mira Marid sets out to prove that cupids aren’t the only beings capable of selecting soulmates. But when setting up her best friend Kade Eros becomes more than just wishful thinking, serendipity takes over, and it turns out that wishing for true love isn’t off the table after all…

Excerpt

We begin in a posh bar somewhere in lower Manhattan. Dark wood and butter soft leather. Polished bronze and dusky amber lights. Soft industrial pop plays, sultry and slightly discordant, highlighting the edge of conversations and the looks thrown between complete strangers as they prowl amongst Friday night’s fresher, less jaded clientele.

A meat market, yes. The bar, a well-known hunting ground for both hopeful and horny, lorn and libidinous, the room simmers with the potential for lust and love.

But in one corner, a man and a woman sit, removed from the game. Together, yet apart and uncannily separate from the rest, their interest lies upon a couple secreted away in a booth, and the wager they’ve made concerning them…

“Quite the match, aren’t they?” Mira’s brow rose, her lips grazing the edge of her martini glass. She averted her eyes from the couple’s canoodling and took a small sip of her drink, gin and vermouth the barest whisper upon her tongue.

“Mmm.” On the stool beside her, Kade was noncommittal. He raised a tattooed hand. His heavy platinum watch slipped to the sleeve of his bespoke Armani suit as he loosened his tie, its cornflower silk the exact shade of his eyes. He glanced at her askance from beneath a fall of raven wing hair. “This doesn’t prove anything, you know.”

Mira’s laughter rang out. People turned, but she was used to that and rather enjoyed it. She tsked, patting Kade’s arm with crocodile conciliation, her tapered, crimson nails complimenting his pinstripes. “Aww. Not quite the corner on the market you’d been led to believe?” Her eyes sparked as brightly as the diamond on the observed woman’s left hand…which was currently thrust as deep in her beau’s thinning hair as his tongue was down her throat.

“What were the limits to your power again…?” Kade drummed his fingers on the bar top, pensive. “Ah, yes, no more than three wishes, no bringing people back from the dead, and,” he paused, so smug she could just slap him, “no wishes for love. That, my dear, falls solely into a cupid’s purview.”

“And I’ll maintain that one doesn’t have to be the spawn of Aphrodite to nudge two people together that obviously should be. You don’t need to wish for love to find it.” Mira batted her lashes and teased an olive from her drink pick with her teeth.

Kade’s hand flew to his breast. “Spawn? Mira, you wound me.” He chuckled and threw back the last of his bourbon. “Though you are right about one thing, those wishing for love seldom find it. It’s the ones not looking for it that get hit most often.” He cocked his brow and she rolled her eyes at the jab, having given up on experiencing that fickle emotion long ago.

“But regardless,” he continued, “ring or no, that is lust…on his part anyway, and I’d venture it’s avarice on hers.” He eyed the couple still going at it and set his glass down. “You, little jinn, exist to grant desires, whereas I—” he grinned, and a mousy woman seated behind Mira gasped. Kade’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Mira, his stupid smile impossibly wider. “Am made for love.” He collected his phone from the bar and shot off a quick text.

Mira rolled her eyes and swatted his chest. Gah, cupids were intolerable—especially this cupid. “So you’re telling me that’s not true love?”

“Hardly,” he said, re-pocketing the silly device and collecting his overcoat. “But please, do keep trying.”

Mira made a concerted effort not to pout until he’d cleared the large windows at the front of the restaurant and was halfway down the block. Only then did she allow herself to slump, her gaze going back to the couple in the booth. How could Kade not see how perfect those two were for each other?

The woman, Mira’s former client, had wished for a steady job, and with a slight twist of serendipity, there was the man. He was in need of a nanny for his Pomeranian.

Her second wish had been for a rent-controlled apartment and fortuitously, he preferred live-in help.

And her last wish had been to gain a skill to ensure her continued employment; he was more than eager to pay for her canine reiki classes.

The two of them were absolute kismet. A real life beauty and the—well, he wasn’t quite rugged enough to be a beast, but still—And age gaps had been a thing literally forever. His winter to her spring was both classic and on trend. Mira took another sip of her martini as her former client minced by on six-inch stilettos. How she walked the dog in those…

Mira waved the thought away. Not her concern, aside from the fact that Kade was wrong, and her most fervent wish was to prove it to him if it were the last—

“Um, excuse me?”

Mira turned to the brunette behind her and cocked a brow. “Yes?”

The mousy little thing bowed her shoulders as if chagrinned. As she should be for leaving the house dressed like that. How did she even get in here?

“I—was that your boyfriend?”

“Was that my…?” Was she mad?

The brunette’s cheeks flared crimson. “Sorry, it’s none of my business, I just—the way he grinned at me, I—never mind.”

Now, wait a moment. Mira caught the woman’s arm as she went to turn, and she started at Mira’s smile. It did have the tendency to dazzle, all part of the onboarding process. “No, he’s not my boyfriend. In fact, he’s completely unattached at the moment. Why do you ask?”

The brunette glanced down at Mira’s fingers wrapped around her arm and swallowed heavily. “No, I—” She shook her head, then buzzed her lips with a little laugh. “It’s stupid, but when he smiled, I—Butterflies.” She shrugged.

“Butterflies?” The woman nodded, and Mira’s grin grew larger. More like cupid’s wings. She let go of the brunette’s arm and held her hand out to shake. “I’m Mira Marid. And you are?”

“Becca Hornsby.” She fumbled with a large canvas tote at her elbow, her cuticles rimmed with the rainbow as she extended her hand.

Mira’s brow rose. “You’re an artist.” A wisp of energy passed from her to Becca, shackling the woman’s wrist to her own. Hello, new client.

“I—Oh!” Becca’s gray-green eyes widened, as if she’d felt it. She hooked a flyaway tendril of hair behind her ear and dipped her head. “N-no, not like you’re probably thinking. I paint interiors. Walls,” she said, as if that needed clarifying.

“Murals?”

“Um, kind of? Not like pictures. I work in geometrics…” She glanced around the posh bar. “I was supposed to be meeting a potential buyer here, but I don’t—” She turned back to Mira and forced a smile. “I don’t think they’re going to show.”

“Pity,” Mira slowly enunciated each syllable, running her eyes over the woman and mentally swapping makeover options like fashion plates. It would take some work, but…Mira smiled brightly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

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About the Author

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.

She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.

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