A Warlock MacGregor novel
Entangled Covet
June 2014
On Sale: June 2, 2014
Featuring: Lydia Barratt; Erik MacGregor
218 pages ISBN: 1622665937 EAN: 9781622665938 Kindle: B00K9ODF5E e-Book Add to Wish List
“Ly-di-ah! I sit beneath your window, laaaass, singing
’cause I loooove your a—”“
“For the love of St. Francis of Assisi, someone call a vet.
There is an injured animal screaming in pain outside,”
Charlotte interrupted the flow of music in ill-humor.
Lydia lifted her forehead from the kitchen table. Her
windows and doors were all locked, and yet Erik’s endlessly
verbose singing penetrated the barrier of glass and wood
with ease.
Charlotte held her head and blinked heavily. Her red-rimmed
eyes were filled with the all too poignant look of a
hangover. She took a seat at the table and laid her head
down. Her moan sounded something like, “I’m never moving
again.”
“You need fluids,” Lydia prescribed, getting up to pour
unsweetened herbal tea from the pitcher in the fridge. She’d
mixed it especially for her friend. It was Gramma
Annabelle’s hangover recipe of willow bark, peppermint,
carrot, and ginger. The old lady always had a fresh supply
of it in the house while she was alive. Apparently, being a
natural witch also meant in partaking in natural liquors.
Annabelle had kept a steady supply of moonshine stashed in
the basement. If the concert didn’t stop soon she might try
to find an old bottle.
“ “Ly-di-ah!” “
“Omigod. Kill me,” Charlotte moaned. “No. Kill him. Then
kill me.”
“ “Ly-di-ah!” “
Erik had been singing for over an hour. At first, he’d tried
to come inside. She’d not invited him and the barrier spell
sent him sprawling back into the yard. He didn’t seem to
mind as he found a seat on some landscaping timbers and
began his serenade. The last time she’d asked him to be
quiet, he’d gotten louder and overly enthusiastic. In fact,
she’d been too scared to pull back the curtains for a
clearer look, but she was pretty sure he’d been dancing on
her lawn, shaking his kilt.
“Omigod,” Charlotte muttered, pushing up and angrily going
to a window. Then grimacing, she said, “Is he wearing a tux
jacket with his kilt?”
“Don’t let him see you,” Lydia cried out in a panic. It was
too late. The song began with renewed force.
“He’s…” Charlotte frowned. “I think it’s dancing.”
Since the damage was done, Lydia joined Charlotte at the
window. Erik grinned. He lifted his arms to the side and
kicked his legs, bouncing around the yard like a kid on too
much sugar. “Maybe it’s a traditional Scottish dance?”
Both women tilted their heads in unison as his kilt kicked
up to show his perfectly formed ass.
“He’s not wearing…” Charlotte began.
“I know. He doesn’t,” Lydia answered. Damn, the man had a
fine body. Too bad Malina’s trick had turned him insane.