Cursed Weylan Series, Book Two

Release date: November 17, 2021

Shifter Ariel Weylan has no time to succumb to her family curse. No matter how good looking or charming Evander is, she cannot let herself get distracted. She has to help keep her family alive. She certainly doesn’t need to be trailing after a wizard no one’s seen in ages. But with the possibility of knowledge that could keep her coven safe, she sees little choice.

Sorcerer Evander Murphy has no plans to settle down for at least another century. He has his son and his business to worry about, he doesn’t need to add a wife into the mix. That all changes the day Ariel enters his store. She’s smart and beautiful with a cheeky grin and a quick wit. She’s everything he could ever ask for in a woman.

An adventure through the jungle to find a wizard isn’t the most romantic of exploits, but Evander is determined to make Ariel his and isn’t above a little seduction. Can Ariel make it through the jungle without falling for Evander? Can Evander keep himself from falling for his own seductions? Will they find the knowledge they seek, or will they both go home disappointed?

~ Excerpt ~

Chapter One

“Careful, Declan. Don’t let that flame get too high,” Evander Murphy cautioned his eight-year-old son, tousling the dark curls on his head as he passed. Declan sat on a stool behind the register of his father’s store, practicing his flame magic on a candle. He was eagerly impatient for the store to open since it was Saturday, and Evander didn’t force lessons on weekends. Instead, Evander allowed him to greet customers and ring up their purchases.

Evander homeschooled Declan in both mortal and supernatural subjects. Declan enjoyed learning his magic—his multiplications tables, not so much. He was exceptionally bright and friendly and loved meeting all the different beings that came to Murphy’s Rare Books.

Evander’s book shop was well known in the supernatural community and boasted the most diverse selection of ancient and modern books. His shop attracted all sorts of beings, from witches to werewolves to Others.

Declan hopped off his stool abruptly, running for the shop’s front door, oblivious of the candle nearly toppling. Excitedly, he shouted to his father, “We have a customer! Can I let them in?”

Evander chuckled at his enthusiasm, rolled his eyes at his carelessness and doused the forgotten flame. “We don’t open for another twenty minutes,” he said. “They’ll have to wait.”

“But it’s raining, Dad, and she doesn’t have an umbrella.” Declan turned to him with a solemn look. “It’s mean to make her get all wet.”

Evander sighed, knowing Declan would harass him for the next twenty minutes if he refused. He would argue good manners and declare Evander was being quite rude. After spending the last eight years pounding good manners into him, it would be counterproductive to refuse the woman. “Alright, let her in.”

Declan smiled angelically, flipping the lock and yanking open the door. “Hello!” he called in greeting. “My dad says you can come in ’cause it’s raining.”

“Oh, thank you.” A woman’s voice, soft and sultry, stirred something deep within Evander. “I hadn’t expected it to rain today. I should have though; it’s been a rather dry spring, and it was bound to pour eventually.”

As she stepped through the shop’s doorway Evander discovered three things about her. First, because she was allowed into the shop and the invisible warding spell didn’t propel her back out, she wasn’t evil. Second, the off-key chime from the little bell above the door meant she was a witch. And last, she definitely hadn’t expected rain.

Declan, having recognized what the off-key chime meant, beamed at the woman. “My name’s Declan, and I’m a warlock.” He pointed a slender finger to indicate Evander. “And that’s my dad. His name’s Evander. You have to say it like Ee-van-der. He gets cranky when people say it wrong. Are you a witch?”

Evander knew he should reprimand Declan about asking personal questions, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman to do so. The rain, a steady downpour that had started a few minutes before, had soaked her dress. The garment was plastered to her body almost indecently. Though he couldn’t see through the material of it, he could clearly make out every dip and curve of her body.

Her tight breasts moved enticingly with her laughter. “Why, yes I am. Light-natured. How did you know?”

“The bell,” Declan replied, pointing above her head. “My dad teaches me a lot of spells. Light-natured, that means you use a lot of White magic—good spells—and only a little Black magic, right?”

There were four casts of magically inclined beings: White-natured, Light-natured, Dark-natured and Black-natured. White-natured beings only used White magic, magic that would never hurt or cause damage. Light-natured beings were not afraid to get their hands dirty with a little Black magic if they or someone they knew was in danger. Dark-natured were the opposite; beings who were Dark-natured would mostly use Black magic, only touching White magic if someone they cared for needed to be healed. Black-natured, nearly always evil beings, only used Black magic, never touching White magic, no matter the cost.

Declan knew this—or at least he should from how many times Evander had explained it—but this woman didn’t know that. She bent down to be at eye level with Declan to explain, giving Evander the most perfect view of her rounded behind. Her wet dress outlined her sweet posterior so completely, it left nothing to the imagination. He felt a primitive growl making its way up his throat at the sight.

Covering it by clearing his throat and moving around to a less intriguing angle, he was just in time to see Declan show off the brand on his arm. He was shocked by his forwardness with her. What the hell was wrong with him? He never acted this way.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, placing one hand on her chest. “That must have hurt. May I?”

Declan allowed her to grasp his arm. Using one slender finger, she traced the intricate pattern of the protective brand. The scarring was light pink, slightly raised, and rested just below Declan’s inner elbow. Given to him at birth, the scar was a reminder of the danger following him…a danger Declan wasn’t aware of.

“Dad says he numbed it. I was only a baby, so I don’t ‘member. It protects me.”

“This is a very old symbol. Very few people know of its existence,” she told him, meeting his gaze. “This is one of the most powerful protection charms out there. It will protect you from whoever wishes you harm.”

“That’s what Dad says too.” He grinned.

The woman straightened, pinning Evander with a set of incredible blue eyes. They were the light, cool blue of a summer’s sky, and they gazed at Evander with equal parts curiosity and skepticism. “Well,” she said, “that brand gives me hope you’ll have what I’m looking for.”

“I can help!” Declan shouted. “I know lots of things!”

She smiled for Declan but spoke to Evander. “I’m looking for a book that has information on every magical being and object.”

“One book? Not a collection?” Evander questioned surprised.

“Yes,” she responded calmly. “It’s said to be ever changing and filled with millennia worth of knowledge.”

“Wow,” Declan breathed. “That sounds so cool!”

Evander had to agree, but he had never heard of it. “Where did you learn about this book?”

“My cousin heard about it from her father.”

“And him?”

“I’m not sure. So, you have it?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of such a book.”

“Drat.”

“But you can find it…can’t you, Dad?” Declan didn’t spare Evander a glance going on to tell her about Evander’s policy. “My dad can find any book you want, honest. He’ll even go get it for you. Bring it back licitly spit!”

“Split,” Evander corrected with a chuckle.

“Split.” Declan nodded. “Sometimes I get to go with him, too!”

She gave Declan an amazed look. “That sounds like an adventure.”

“It is!” he assured her.

Evander tousled Declan’s hair. “Go back to practicing your fire so I can talk with Miss…?”

She smirked. “Ariel Weylan.”

Evander blinked. She was a Weylan? A member of the most notorious witch coven in the supernatural community?

Last century they had been feared as the most evil, Black magic-entrenched coven to date. They had been known as the Ashford coven then, but had changed their name around the time rumors had begun about the coven no longer being Black-natured but Light-natured.

It seemed the rumors about their turnabout were true. After all, Ariel had been let into the shop.

“Miss Ariel Weylan,” Evander murmured softly.

Declan sighed dramatically, telling Ariel, “Dad says I have to practice to be a great warlock.”

She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling out a business card. “Here. Always check with your dad first.” She handed him the brightly colored paper with a smile. “But, if you ever need help with a spell or potion, go there.” She tapped the logo on the card. “One of my cousins, or myself, will help you.”

“You own a store, too?” Declan asked in delight.

“Yes, we do. Weylan Organics. Open to all magical beings of every age.”

Possibly as happy as he was on Christmas morning, Declan skipped back to the checkout counter, the business card clutched in his hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” Evander told her faintly.

She shrugged. “He said you were a sorcerer, so naturally he might have some magical problems you wouldn’t be able to help him with. My cousins and I would be happy to help him, but you can always tell him no.”

Had Declan told her he was a sorcerer? He didn’t remember hearing that. Perhaps he said it when Evander had been ogling her behind.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Though Declan wouldn’t need her help, the gesture was appreciated.

Evander’s being a sorcerer meant he had no magical powers of his own, and Ariel assumed he would have trouble teaching something he didn’t know. Normally she would be right, but Evander’s father did have powers and taught Declan what Evander couldn’t.

“About this book…I can find it for you, providing it actually exists. It will cost you a little extra, and it might take a while for me to locate and procure it.”

“That’s alright.” She politely waved away his offer. “I can find it. Do you have anything on wizards?”

He motioned for her to follow him with a wave of his hand. As he led her down the shelved aisles, he told her, “I have many books on wizards. I have many books on many beings. However, not one with all of them together. I would really like to find that book for you. It would be a pleasure.”

“It’s nice of you to offer, but I think I can manage on my own.”

Stopping at the back of the shop, Evander motioned to a small bookcase half full of old and new books about wizards. “These are the books on wizards.”

“Anything that lists known wizards and their knowledge or accomplishments?”

Peering curiously at her, he pulled a large leather-bound book from the shelf. “The Encyclopedia of Wizards and Wizardry,” he intoned, handing it to her.

She took it silently, flipped through a couple pages and smiled dazzlingly at him. Her smile knocked Evander back a step, and he almost missed her say, “This will do.”

“Why do you need that, if you don’t mind my asking?” Going from a book about all magical beings to a book on all wizards in one minute made Evander curious. What was she planning on doing?

“I plan to find my book. This will help.”

“I must warn you; most book searches are highly dangerous. The older and rarer the book, the more dangerous the search.”

Her lilting laughter caressed that primal reaction in Evander. All of a sudden, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and crush his mouth to hers. To taste her lips. To feel her body molded to his.

He was so entranced with his musings that he nearly missed her next words. Again. No woman had ever made him as addlepated as she was.

“I’m a Weylan, Sir. Danger does not scare me.”

He nodded assent and turned to lead her back the way they came. “Nevertheless, I really think you should allow me to look for it; I’ve been doing this for years. I’ll give you a great deal on it.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckled. “What type of deal?”

He gave her his most charming smile, going around the register counter to stand behind Declan. “Well,” he drawled, “I could find you the book, charge only half for it, and as a finder’s fee, you go on a date with me.”

Ariel laughed, shaking her head and nearly distracting him again. “I think I’ll stick to finding the book myself.”

Declan rung her out for the book, bagged it and turned curious eyes to her. “You don’t like my dad?”

Instead of being frazzled by Declan’s question, she answered him calmly. “Well, honey, I don’t know your dad.”

He tilted his head in question. “But don’t dates help?”

Evander could have hushed Declan, let Ariel walk out of his shop to never see her again. But he wanted her, and if Declan could get her to go on a date with him, well, Evander wasn’t above using that.

“I suppose that is sort of true,” she conceded reluctantly.

“So, why won’t you date him?”

She looked to Evander for help. He smiled with a raised eyebrow. Ariel glared at him. “I’m sure your dad is a great guy, but…I can’t date your dad. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

She looked back at Declan. “It’s complicated.”

Declan looked crestfallen. Evander could relate. “Oh…will you think about it though?”

 “Alright.” Ariel sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

He grinned, handing her the bag containing her book. “Okay.”

She smiled at Evander. “Thank you for the book.” She raised her bag. “And the warning.”

Evander inclined his head. “You’re welcome.”

“Bye, Declan.” She waved, leaving the shop.

“Bye!” he called after her. Once she was gone, back into the rain, he turned to Evander. “I like her.”

“Me too.”

“Can we go visit her shop?”

“Maybe…go get your coat,” he instructed absently, his gaze still on the door Ariel had exited, his mind working.

Declan jumped off his stool, toppling it noisily in his excitement. “Are we going right now?”

Evander laughed. “No, we’re going to see Grandpa.”

“But Ariel doesn’t want our help.”

“She doesn’t.”

“Then why are we going to see Grandpa?”

Evander sighed. You would think after eight years he would be used to all the questions. “Do you not want to go?”

“I wanna go!” Declan cried instantly.

“Then go get your coat.” He ran off, leaving Evander to his thoughts.

Declan had been right. Ariel didn’t want their help, but Evander wasn’t planning on helping her. He was going to find the book for himself. For two reasons. One, because it would be a valuable book to have for his shop. Two, because maybe if he had the book, he could convince her to go on a date with him in exchange for it.

Sure, it was a little under handed, but like the old saying goes, all’s fair in love and war.