I'd like to believe in charms. How about you?
Or look at it another way. Do you believe in the power of positive thinking?
If you do, then you can see how a love charm might work IF you believe in it. You cast your charm. Then you see your target. Maybe you relax a bit, smile at him, you act more confident because you are more confident. You're using magic. How can he resist?
I'd like to believe in magic. I do believe there many things out there in the universe, and right here on this planet, that we simply don't understand yet. People who lived a thousand years ago would have thought it was "magical" to speak to someone in another town through a telephone. Electricity? Magical. Music coming out of a box with no singers or instruments nearby? Magic. Why shouldn't extrasensory perception exist? We just can't explain how it works yet.
There are many things to be learned and developed which we simply don't understand yet.
So I've written a series of romance short stories based on the concept of a love charm. The first one, Love Charm for Ashley, is available now.
Here's an excerpt:
Ashley clutched her love charm to her breast as the evening
cruise ship pitched under a full moon. She’d followed the directions for the
spell carefully, as any good teacher would. Lilac and rose petals, oil of
lavender, a snip of her own hair and the spell was finished. All wrapped up in
a sachet of pink silk and hope.
Hope that she suddenly didn’t want to throw into the cold
black waters of Boston Harbor. Because if the spell didn’t work, and actually,
she was not the kind of person who could believe in charms and spells; well, if
it didn’t work, then what would she do next? Pushing thirty, no man in sight,
and a long string of lackluster boyfriends in the rear-view mirror.
“Do it, Ashley!” Brenna, her roommate and cheerleader
approached with the wavy gait of a drunken sailor. The empty wine glass in her
hand bore testament to Brenna’s conviction that Saturday night was for
carousing.
“Careful, Brenna.” Ashley automatically held out a hand.
“Don’t get too close to the railing.”
“You’ve got everything the spell called for. A full moon.”
Brenna gestured to the sky. “A body of water.” She flung one arm toward the
harbor and her wine glass flew out of her hand and disappeared under a slapping
wave. “Whoops!” Brenna giggled.
“I don’t know, Brenna.” Ashley followed the trajectory of
the wine glass with a dispirited eye. No man would emerge out of those
lobster-crawling depths. But the directions had been clear. Toss the charm into a body of water under the light of a full
moon. Ashley looked back at Brenna. “How is this spell going to bring me
a good man?”
“Who knows? What’ve you got to lose?” Brenna grabbed the
packet and, before Ashley could blink, she’d thrown it overboard. The pale silk
bobbed for one second in the moonlight, and then sank, like Ashley’s heart.
“I didn’t make my wish, Brenna!”
“No problemo.” Brenna giggled again. “I made one for you.”
“That’s grand, Brenna.” Ashley tried hard to stifle the
sarcasm.
“No, I mean it.” Brenna grabbed her arm. “I wished for my
brother to come for a visit and give you a fab…a fab.u.lush weekend.”
“You think he’ll come all the way from the Middle East just
to show me a good time?” Ashley tried to speak lightly, though disappointment
clogged her throat like a trapped wishbone.
“Home for some reason. I forget.” Brenna waved a hand, as if
she might conjure him from the sea. “Ya know, he’s a lady-killer.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard you say that.” Ashley spoke dryly. Like
she needed a lady-killer. Of course, Brenna's brother lived in Florida, so it
wasn’t likely he was in the neighborhood. But it would be just her luck, that
he’d show up and make her the focus of his attention for the nanosecond he
stayed in town.
She had a knack for attracting the kind of men who didn’t
stick around and Brenna’s brother, if only half her stories could be believed,
was exactly that type of guy. A different woman every night. Gone on a moment’s
notice when the Army needed him in some far-flung corner of the globe. A
secretive job in the Special Forces, which, of course, is why women fell all
over themselves to bask in his reflected macho glory.
No thanks. Not for her. She wanted someone steadfast and
true. Someone who’d hold her tight all night long, someone who’d smile at her
in the morning.
“Come on, Brenna.” Ashley held onto her friend as the big
ship docked at Rowes Wharf. “Time for you to get home.”
“Home?” Brenna stumbled on the gangplank, then looked up at
Ashley. “How much have I had to drink?”
“Too much if you have to ask,” Ashley answered. “Are you
expecting to meet someone? Because there’s a man out on the dock waving at
you.”
“Brenna!” A tall, rangy man dressed, despite the cool
temperature, in only blue jeans and a black t-shirt, held open his arms. His
grin lit up the night, and Ashley felt an ugly pang of jealousy pierce her. She
stomped off the boat, looking for a cab. Wouldn’t you know? Her spell brought
in a man for Brenna.
The man now had one arm looped around Brenna and was
grinning down at her with unmistakable affection. But Ashley knew she wouldn’t
be able to leave her tipsy friend without checking him out. Sighing, she walked
over to join them.
“Ashley!” Brenna’s eyes telegraphed a message of excitement.
“Look who’s here!”
“Who?” Ashley couldn’t help looking at the man, and their
gazes locked as he smiled at her.
“I’m Glen.” He held out his hand and, reluctantly, Ashley
responded. She forced herself to break contact with his eyes, but then her gaze
got caught on his wide shoulders, moved down to admire his muscular arms, and
progressed directly to his strong forearms. It was only when she reached the
sight of their hands clasped together that she realized she’d been holding onto
him for too long.
And her entire body buzzed from that one point of contact.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning down to speak close to her
ear. “You’re shivering.”
Somehow he was clasping her hand now, instead of shaking it,
and he tried to pull her closer to his warmth.
She had to resist. “Brenna—” she gasped. It was too awkward
to try to explain that she’d never take a man from her best friend, even if he
were the most appealing man she’d ever seen.
But he must have understood. Suddenly, he laughed. “Brenna
is my sister,” he said.
“Oh!” Excitement fizzed within her. He wasn’t taken, at
least not by Brenna. Also, that’s why he’d somehow seemed familiar. Though she
hadn’t recognized him in the dark, she’d seen pictures of him and heard so many
stories from Brenna that she felt like she knew him. Not that her knowledge
brought any comfort in its wake. One thing she knew for sure was that he was a
here-today, gone-tomorrow type of guy.
“And you are?” Glen broke into her thoughts.
“Ashley.” She refused to be drawn into his orbit.
“You’re Brenna’s roommate?" He raised his brows.
"That’s great.”
She knew better than to ask, but the word came out anyway.
“Why?”
He gave her an irresistible grin that she recognized from
the photos. All white teeth and wicked curves. “That means I’ll be spending the
night with you.”
But Link:
http://amzn.com/B009RZ8YXY
So, tell us, what do you believe in that we don't understand yet?
