Love Charms (93 page)
Authors: Multiple
Chapter 29
The
coronation was even bigger than the wedding. The Empire had acquiesced to the
new rulership, for there were no grounds to deny it. The princess was now the
saviour of her people, sparing them another arduous battle, negotiating for
food relief from the imperial forces, and, to top it off, she offered them all
a traitor.
None
objected to the offering of the middle aged servant. The Raven Guard, her
sisterhood, were the only ones other than Kulav and her who knew the truth of
who she was, and so they accepted it. But to appease the Empire and show the
good faith of the new rulers, “Mirella” would serve the rest of her days raving
in some dark dungeon that she was the true princess.
Such
things were bittersweet, however. She thought she’d paid her price, but she was
wrong. Her own son no longer recognized her as mother, and though so young he
looked at her with such an odd gaze.
The new
life swelling within her delicate body, elevation to the status of a queen and
the love of her God-King would have to suffice. In the late nights, though,
when her husband slumbered beside her, she wondered at Kulav’ar, and what would
come of the true son of Kulav.
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RECOMMENDED FOR YOU
In Search of Innocence Part 1
The
Eternal War never stops. It chews people up and spits them out, but when you
abuse your people for so long, someone’s going to rise up.
So many
people are vying for control. The nobles cling to their power like vermin. The
rebels fight for it as if their lives depended on it – and they do. Yet
darker plots still lurk in the hearts of humans and elves and beasts.
The
beginning of an epic new fantasy by J.E. & M. Keep, set in the same world
as Amy’s Innocence.
Warning:
This book contains mature themes and does not fade to black. 18+. This will be
released in serial format first, then novels.
In Search of Innocence is now being released in serial
format, with the full first novel to be released in November, 2013
MORE BY J.E. & M. KEEP
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Series
Shorts:
In Search of Innocence
Part 1
Part 2
Amy’s Innocence
Part 1 (Purity) – Deflowering
Part 2 (First Love) – Coming of Age
Part 3 (Family) – Pregnancy
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Cutting a Deal – Fantasy ménage erotica
Demon’s Den – Demon/elf rough sex
Dragon’s Lair – Dragon/elf cock worship
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Finding Her – Mind Control Romance
Taking Her – Mind Control Gangbang
A Naughty School Girl Collection
Tiffany’s Detention – School girl / barely legal
Tiffany – Teacher’s Pet – May December Domination
Tiffany’s Daddy – Reluctant Daddy/Daughter Incest
Breeding Tiffany – Daddy/Daughter Breeding
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Tiffany’s Brother – Brother/Sister Taboo
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Biography
J.E.
& M. Keep love to combine fantasy, scifi, horror, romance and mystery into
exciting and titillating novels.
They are
long term, loving partners in a very happy relationship and because of this,
they love to torture their characters. Dark romance touches all of their
stories in one way or another, from elicit trysts to forbidden love.
Some of
their work contains dubious consent and erotic pain, so it’s not for the faint
of heart. Their stories are often called twisted and arousing – at the
same time.
All
work is 18+, trigger warnings available on the second page of every book. If
you want to hear about new releases, sign up for the newsletter!
Website:
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Description
Burning alive is nothing compared to the
heat of his touch.
Roasted at the stake as a witch while her
lover watches, Ysabel sells her soul to the devil in return for revenge. A fair
trade until her ex-boyfriend escapes the bowels of Hell and she’s forced to
team up with a demon to fetch the jerk back.
Remy’s seen a lot of things during his
tenure in Lucifer’s guard, but nothing can prepare him for the witch with the
acerbic tongue – and voluptuous figure. Her mouth says ‘Screw you,’ but
her body screams ‘Take me.’ What’s a poor demon to do when his heart makes
things even more complicated by goading him to make her his, forever?
Before he can decide if his demonizing
days are done, though, he needs to catch the bad guys, save the girl, and then
find a way to convince her to love him and not kill him.
Welcome to Hell where you’re screwed if
you do and damned if don’t. And just so you know, Lucifer has a special spot
reserved for you…
Warning:
This story contains a sexy
demon with corny pickup lines and an irritable witch who works for Satan. There
is coarse language, hot scenes, twisted, religious ideology and a whole lot of
giggles. Also, be warned that Lucifer is back trying to steal the show. If you
possess an open mind, a good sense of humor and a tainted soul, then read at
your own peril.
Prologue
A long, long time ago…
I’m going to die.
And painfully, too, which really wasn’t
how she’d pictured spending her day. Gardening, yes. Maybe whipping up a few
healing potions. Fooling around with her lover. Getting roasted to a crisp
while the townsfolk looked on cheering? Not something she would have fit in to
her schedule.
Ysabel pulled at the rope binding her to
the stake, her mind still cloudy with disbelief. When she woke this morning and
went about her chores, feeding the hens and collecting their eggs, tending her
herb garden and other mundane tasks, she never expected a mob to descend upon
her screaming, “Brujería! Witch!”
The fact they were correct didn’t
surprise her. She’d never tried too hard to hide her healing powers. Besides,
the whole village benefitted from her concoctions which she used in exchange
for items she needed. Smoked ham for a gout cure. A wheel of cheese for a
tincture to soften chapped skin. Love potions by the handful for hopeful maidens
and their mamas – a lucrative trade for a woman like herself without a
husband or father to care for her. As for her title of witch, while she heard
it bandied about, she didn’t take offense. She was proud of her heritage handed
down, generation after generation, by the women of her family. What shocked her
when the screams to string her up and roast her came to her ears, was who
headed the mob – her lover’s mother, Luysa.
Dressed in a heavy black gown, her
mantilla of black lace pulled back to show eyes burning with hatred and lips
curled in a vicious snarl, she screamed “Burn the witch!” loudest.
Shriveled old hag. It seemed someone
didn’t want to cut the apron strings to her only son. Yet, Francisco, at twenty
and five, was well past the age to settle down and begin his own line. A family
he’d promised to build with her. While they met in secret due to his strict
mother, and the village gossips, he’d promised to soon publicly announce his
intent to wed her. She couldn’t wait, although, now confronted with his angry
mother, she wondered if they should have spoken sooner.
Ysabel didn’t put up much of a fight. Why
bother when she couldn’t win against the number of folk sent to fetch her? Limp
in their grasp, she closed her eyes and mind to their vicious taunts as they
dragged her off to the edge of town where the narrow minded village people
showed themselves busy, erecting a wooden stake and piling bramble and branches
around it. Even as they lashed her to the pole, she didn’t panic.
Francisco,
her lover with his dark eyes and thick lashes, would save her. Evidently, he’d
told his mother of their love, and she’d temporarily lost her temper –
and mind. Yet, Ysabel knew the man she loved would come to her rescue. Their
commitment to each other would prevail over the mob’s need to execute a witch
as the church and religious heads in Rome instructed them.
As the villagers continued to pile
flammable items about her and the sun began its descent, signaling the arrival
of nightfall, she held on to that belief, clung firmly to her love as the first
torch approached, its flickering flame dancing in the light breeze. Despite the
situation, the scene was almost picturesque, reminding her of the many bonfires
she’d participated in, with these same folk, as they celebrated the harvest and
the solstices. Of course, nobody was lashed to the stake on those occasions.
Lucky
me.
Scanning the eager faces, the first
tickle of trepidation went up her spine as she didn’t spy the face of her
lover.
Surely he’s heard of my dilemma by now?
Perhaps he planned a
grand rescue at the last moment like the heroes the bards sang of.
How
romantic.
As the last ray of sunlight disappeared
and twilight fell, a hush fell over the waiting crowd as Luysa, a smirk of
triumph on her face, stepped forward and held up her hands for silence. Firmly
spoken words spilled from her lips with a hate and vileness Ysabel could
scarcely give credence.
And this is the woman who birthed my sweet
Francisco?
“This most unholy of witches must die.
She freely practices her dark craft amongst us.”
Heads nodded all around.
Unbelievable.
I practice my arts and
use them to cure sickness and aide the healing of infected wounds,
Ysabel
thought, shaking her head in disbelief. See if she’d help them the next time
they came knocking at her door in the middle of the night, the betrayers.
“She uses her magic on our young men,
forcing them to do her wicked, unchaste bidding.”
Ysabel’s brows arched.
Funny, but it
was your son who plied me with alcohol the first time he went up my skirts and
had his naughty way with me. Of course, I enjoyed it, but still, I never made
him do anything.
“The church says thou shalt not suffer a
witch to live. So, I say in the name of God and all that is holy, the witch
must die!” Spittle flew as Luysa worked herself into a fever pitch and aimed
her last remark toward the back of the crowd. Ysabel followed her gaze and
smiled. Francisco had arrived.
I knew he’d come to save me. Take that
you crusty, old hag.
Tall, dark and handsome, he looked like
something out of a fairy-tale, the type of story her grandmother used to tell
her. A true hero, come to save his damsel from the wicked witch. Well in this
case, he was saving the witch from the wicked, almost, mother-in-law. He pushed
his way to the front of the crowd until he stood before his mother and the
stake upon which Ysabel hung. His dark eyes darted to Ysabel’s for a moment and
a frisson of fear finally tickled down her spine. She didn’t see anger in his
expression at her situation. No fear at how closely she treaded death’s path.
In his eyes, she read the truth. And it wasn’t pretty.
I’m going to burn, and he’s not going to
do a damn thing to save me.
Disbelief made her forget the avidly
watching crowd. “Francisco. Tell your mother, I did nothing to bespell you.
Tell her of our love for each other.” She didn’t want to beg, but she couldn’t
bring herself to believe the dispassionate man in front of her was the same
lover who’d murmured such sweet promises.
He didn’t reply and at his silence his
mother turned to face Ysabel, a look of triumph on her face. “You shall die for
your sins, witch.” The lit torch was thrust into the ruling harridan’s hand and
she held it aloft for a moment. “Brujería!” she shouted. “Burn you unholy
thing.” Then she lowered the flaming brand, and the dry tinder lit with a
whoosh.
Panic clawed at Ysabel as the
hopelessness of her situation came home. Too late, she struggled in vain at the
bindings holding her. But the rope didn’t budge. Damn Pedro and his rope tying
skill. The crackling sound of the flames grew, aided by the ale Alvaro
accidentally spilled on the pyre.
Worse than the view of the spreading
fire, was the billowing black smoke and encroaching heat. The first entered her
lungs and she coughed as tears streamed from her itching eyes.
Sweat beaded on her face as she worked
frantically to free herself, her simple spells and charms of healing no match
against her captivity and the element of fire.
With frantic eyes, she scanned the crowd,
waiting for someone to step forward and cry foul, to come to her aid, but they
watched, some in morbid fascination, some with a sick glee, as the flames grew
closer. She caught Francisco’s gaze and this time, he didn’t turn away. She
pled with her eyes for rescue. Acknowledgement. Anything from the man who’d
declared he’d do anything for her. Climb the highest mountain. Defy the wishes
of his family. Do anything for her love.
Lies. All of it lies, she understood now
as he stood there, unflinching while the fire leapt higher, licking at the hems
of her skirt, toasting her toes. He showed not a hint of remorse as he watched
her burn.
Fury enveloped her, hotter than the
flames licking her body. “Bastardo,” she spat. “You used me. Betrayed me like a
coward. I can’t wait to see you in Hell. I’ll see all of you in Hell for this.”
She closed her eyes and began chanting, a dark prayer she’d never thought to
use. A last resort her grandmother taught her, but told her to forget. A
promise to the Dark Lord – one that wouldn’t save her mortal life, but
would grant her revenge on those who’d betrayed her. The darkest, most powerful
of curses crossed her lips.
As the flames curled around the skin of
her feet, burning them and drawing forth screams of agony, she gave her life
and soul to the Underlord in return for vengeance. She promised the Devil, whom
she worshipped in hiding, anything – her life, her soul, her devotion. He
could have it all for a chance to bring Francisco, his mother, and all the
sheep-like villagers who rejoiced, into Hell with her. Her cackling laughter at
the end of her death spell sounded more like a coughing choke, but thankfully,
Lucifer read her intent, and granted her wish. She should have read the fine
print.