Spellfire Sinful Sundaes 2

COVER SUMMARY

WELCOME TO

SPELLFIRE, TEXAS

Where things aren't what they seem, no—

they are so much hotter!

The Fifth of the Spellfire Collections

Sundae: Leanne Strange – Sprinkles & Hot Hunks
When Laurance goes into Sinful Sundaes for a specialty banana split, he didn’t expect to get a double helping of trouble from Dina Diablo.

Mondae: Leigh Ellwood - Marriage, Marzipan & Mayhem

What happens when a werewolf with an appetite for lust finds an undercover reporter hiding in his pantry? A feast for all senses.

Tuesdae: Anne Leland -Tarot & Toasted Almonds

Tarot mistress Lady Gael needs a new card deck more than a lover. Will reclusive werewolf Chase MacGregor be able to break down her barriers?

Wednesdae: Emery LaRue - Wafers & Wishes
Kayne Niam has a plan to draw his true love to him. Will Feather the fairy be all he hopes for? All that and more.

Thursdae: Leanne Strange - Things & Hot Taffy

Taffy and Manny work hand in hand to help each other solve personal problems, but fingers do the walking in the realm of love.

Fridae: Ann Regentin - Fresh Fruit & Fate
When an exiled dryad meets a handsome carpenter at the back door of Sinful Sundaes, Fate herself comes to Spellfire—to handle this one personally.

Saturdae: Mae Powers - Sexparilla Shakes & Spacemen

At Sinful Sundaes, weekend waitress, Shonda Lamont, makes an unusual shake so good even Plutonian Pretzel salesman Teth loves it, and her.

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EXCERPT

Sprinkles & Hot Hunks

Leanne Strange

Chapter One

“Working on a Sunday morning just isn’t right,” Dina Diablo grumbled to Penny Royal, her co-worker at Sinful Sundaes Ice Cream Shoppe.

“I know,” Penny agreed as she filled the orders of two elderly wizards for Mandrake Root Beer Floats. “It was the only shift available, and you’re lucky you applied before that awful goblin Evilyn Grum. I could never work with her.”

“No one else in town had an opening. But it sucks that I have to have an internship with a high-level magical practitioner to pass the course in Non-Toxic Mixology and get my degree in Malefic Magic.” Using more force than necessary, Dina slapped a handful of Naptime Napkins to wake them up so they’d stack properly and fit in the dispenser. She resented having to attend Alchemy Academy to obtain a degree in something she’d spent her life learning from her maleficus demon father, but she didn’t have to take out her frustration on the poor napkins. “I need the degree to qualify for a license to legally practice malefic magic in Spellfire. I tell ya, it’s a shame poor working class demons can’t cause trouble without a license to prove they know how to do proper mischief and mayhem.”

“It’s all Mayor Perry Normil’s fault,” Penny said. “He’s thinking about all the money he can skim off all the licenses and permits the town sells. Did you hear—”

The sounds of the front door opening and the accompanying chime drowned out Penny’s voice. Business was even slower than usual for a Sunday morning, and Dina looked up from the snoozing napkins to see the new customer.

Her breath caught in her chest as the sexiest hunk she’d ever seen strode through the door. He stopped and blinked, probably waiting for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight outside to the dim interior. That gave Dina time to look him over head to toe.

His hair, the color of darkened sand along the Texas coast, swept back in thick waves. Dina used her demon ability to telescope in on details to determine the color of his eyes from across the room—a deep gray-green like the water of the Gulf of Mexico.

He wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand as he surveyed the layout of the shop. When his gaze landed on her, his full, sensual lips curved into a smile.

“This one’s mine,” Dina told Penny.

“Yes.” Penny patted Dina’s shoulder as she walked past. “I believe he is.”

A slight tremor passed through Dina’s arm then her entire body at Penny’s touch. Penny was strange, even for Spellfire, and no one knew what kind of magic she practiced. Then Dina forgot the incident as quickly as it had happened.

Dina moved down the counter and around Gak, a gremlin perched on a stool with his laptop in front of him. Tiny stars and sparkles circled his head as he tapped the keyboard so fast his fingers blurred. At the next dispenser, Dina shook the package of napkins awake, but kept her eye on the sexy stranger.

Originally, Spellfire wasn’t her home, and even though she liked the town and most of its people, it was a little boring compared to the places she’d been. She missed traveling all over the world, enjoying all kinds of men, and causing all kinds of mayhem with her cousin and best friend Shai.

Now, Shai had decided to settle down. The mischievous fairy had fallen in love with two men at the same time, and both men loved her. The arrangement seemed to be working for all three. Dina often wondered what it would be like to have two men simultaneously touch her, lick her, suck her, and fuck her. Two sets of cock and balls, one for each hand, to play with.

Whoa! A Sunday morning at an ice cream shop was not the time or place to be thinking such thoughts.

She glanced at the hunk again. He was crossing the room in slow, long-legged strides, the crotch of his skin-tight jeans molded to his bulging package, and she creamed her panties. Oh, a Sunday morning was the perfect time for thoughts of a handsome lover and a lazy day in bed.

When he slid into a booth, she took a deep breath and went to him. “Welcome to Sinful Sundaes. How can I help you today?”

“Hey, dere...Dina, is it?” he asked after a glance at her nametag.

“Yes, Dina Diablo.” Her voice came out more breathy than usual. She was totally turned on by this man and found it difficult to control her reaction to him.

“Unusual name, but it suits you. I’m Laurance Boudreaux.”

Dina cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you, Laurance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here or around Spellfire before.”

He shook his head. “I jus’ got into town. From Louisiana on my way to League City, but I t’ink I took a wrong turn off I-45. Good t’ing because my car stalled as soon as I pulled up outside. Can you recommend a good mechanic in town?”

Oh, she nearly climaxed right then. His smooth Cajun accent made her hotter than the depths of Hellfire Lake, a favorite swimming hole for demons, and a nocturnal Plutonian gale couldn’t have cooled her off. If Gak the gremlin hadn’t started cussing at his computer, jarring her to her senses, she might have grabbed Laurance, threw him on the table, and fucked him right there.

Dina was half-demon and half-fairy, and while she mostly took after her demon side, self-control wasn’t a common characteristic of either species. At the moment, she couldn’t afford to lose her internship with Electra over a quick lay on a table during work hours—no matter how sinfully sexy the guy. She needed to keep a tight rein on her impetuous urges or risk losing everything she had worked for, forcing her to start all over again.

“Sure.” She glanced at Gak the gremlin seated at the counter. Notorious for causing chaos with mechanical mechanisms, gremlins became the most efficient mechanics when they decided to use their talents for good instead of evil. “Gak’s Garage is one of the best in town. I’ll call their towing service for you and let them know it’s an emergency. They should be able to get to you first thing in the morning.”

“Oui, today is Sunday, so I guess not everyone is open. I’ll need a place to stay, too.”

“Spellfire House or Havoc House have large, comfortable rooms and are reasonably priced.”

“T’anks, Dina, I’ll check dem out,” Laurance said.

“Great. What would you like?” She almost added, Coffee, tea, or me? “We have ice tea with fresh-squeezed lemon that’s refreshing on a hot and humid day like today. And we offer every kind of ice cream dish you can imagine and more.”

“Ice tea sounds good.” Laurance’s eyes skimmed the menu above the counter. “And I’ll have a banana split.”

“Coming right up.”

Dina could barely walk away from him. His accent made her knees weaken, her toes curl, and her womb clench. Hellfire and brimstone, but she still had too many hours on her shift to expect him to wait for her to show him around Spellfire and help him get a room at either House. While pouring Laurance’s ice tea, Dina made the call to Gak’s Garage and explained the situation to Gok, the gremlin who answered the phone. She made it clear that even though Laurance Boudreaux was an outsider and a human that if they didn’t treat him fair, they’d answer to her. Not many gremlins had the balls to intentionally get on the bad side of a maleficus demon.

She quickly prepared the banana split, heaping generous dollops of chocolate, pineapple, strawberry toppings, and whipped cream. She set a cherry on each cloud-like peak, which was two more than required, but she wanted to give him a little extra. At the last minute, she mixed a spoonful of Double Delight Sprinkles in with the nuts and dashed them all over the split.

The multi-colored candy treats would be a special surprise for Laurance.

Mondae: Marriage, Mayhem, and Marzipan

By
Leigh Ellwood

Chapter One

Maejika Malestrom swept through the entrance of Sinful Sundaes ice cream parlor with a confident air that befit such a prominent citizen of Spellfire. Tiny bells attached to the hem of her flowing, batik-patterned cape tinkled a disjointed tune with her every step. She turned heads—disembodied and otherwise—as she breezed past a line of booths to the last one in the far corner.

A dismissive wave toward the front counter was her only greeting to her close friend, the shop’s owner. “Electra, my usual, but no heavy cream this time,” she barked. She didn’t bother to turn back and acknowledge the ice cream parlor’s owner. “I need to lay off the dairy for a while. It’s given me so much mucous I’m coughing up seven shades of green these days.”

All around the parlor, spoons clattered quietly to plates and bowls, desserts uneaten as a collective unease spoiled appetite after appetite in the otherwise busy parlor.

Maejika, her focus still on the back booth, slid into the bench facing the wall and set down her heavy handbag. A tiny gecko attempted escape but the woman eased it back into the bag’s depths.

“Good morning, Phyllis,” Maejika said blandly, and maintained her poker face when a quiet “Shit!” cut the air before her.

“How did you know I was here?” demanded Phyllis Phantasmas’ detached voice.

Nobody knew Phyllis was in the shop this morning; at least, that had been Phyllis’ assumption. She slipped through the door behind a visible faerie couple and paced the floor for much of the morning. She avoided bodily contact and listened for any juicy bits that she might incorporate into her next gossip column for the Spellfire Spawn. After a short while, she grew tired and took the far, vacant bench. Though business at Sinful Sundaes was active, nobody else approached the booth, until Maejika came storming in the diner.

As one who could render herself invisible at will, the job suited Phyllis perfectly. The publisher should have been happy to see her, or rather not see her, working.

Maejika, however, was not smiling. She clicked her tongue. “Child,” she admonished. “Surely you should know that the hallmarks of being a good, investigative reporter are to be observant, and discreet. How could you think that nobody coming to the back of this shop, presumably to use the restrooms or play a song on the jukebox, wouldn’t see the obvious impression on the bench seat that your invisible ass is making?”

Phyllis looked down and sighed. When invisible, she couldn’t see her own body, either. She could, however, see the rounded indentation that gave her away.

“Phyllis?” Maejika sang, and barely nodded as Electra set down her mug with a smirk in Phyllis’ direction. “Get any good gossip today?”

Phyllis stayed silent. She hadn’t, and it appeared Maejika didn’t need to be told.

“Have you noticed, too, the bare footprints still on the floor?”

Phyllis followed Maejika’s broad gesture toward the spacious dining area, and grimaced. Damn it. She’d forgotten to wipe her feet before entering. Tiny footprints, faded but clearly visible, remained in wavy circular patterns.

Maejika batted at a tiny blue envelope until the sweetener inside clumped at one end. “Honestly, child,” she sniffed, “I don’t see the advantage of invisibility if you’re going to be so sloppy. Everybody knows you’re here. The reason you don’t have anything for your column is because nobody here is that stupid to open his mouth.”

“Fuck,” Phyllis muttered.

“Believe me, I’d rather be doing that than sitting here with you,” Maejika muttered. “I wouldn’t be either, if Electra hadn’t called. Well, you might as well show yourself. Won’t do you any good to sneak away, either. I can smell your perfume.”

“I can’t,” Phyllis said, her voice urgent. “Show myself, that is.”

Maejika looked at her with a raised brow, then nodded. “Of course, I forgot,” she said.

“Of course,” Phyllis mimicked. She was naked, as it was the only way she could go about unseen. Her ability to render herself invisible didn’t transfer to clothes, always a sore spot with Phyllis. This morning was particularly cool; the shop’s air conditioning seemed to be turned to high, and Phyllis’ nipples stood achingly at attention. Her skin suffered a near-perpetual prickled state.

Maejika simply unhooked the silver clasp at her throat and pulled off her cape, the bells chiming in unison. She tossed it across the bench, and Phyllis took shape as the fabric draped over her body. Phyllis could see easily through the gauzy cape and wondered how much it would hide. As it was, nobody in the shop appeared surprised to see her emerge as she righted the cape around her nude form.

“Much better.” Maejika smiled, sipped from her mug, then folded her arms on the table. “I like to look a person in the eye before I fire her.”

“Maejika...” Phyllis cried, further protests muted by Maejika’s scowl.

“Phyllis, you’re not giving me much of a choice here. Your gossip column isn’t as good as it used to be, it’s losing readership, and this slipshod manner of finding new material is clearly hurting you. I won’t even tell you the results of the Spawn’s latest readers’ poll.”

“That bad?” Phyllis said, meek. At the next booth, a waitress set down an enormous hot fudge sundae for a pair of shape-shifters to split. The aroma of warm chocolate and fresh fruit should have been pleasing, but Phyllis’ empty stomach roiled.

“Let’s put it this way,” Maejika said. “Fifty percent of the readers want you replaced with Beetle Bailey, the other fifty want you permanently tattooed in neon ink so they can see you coming.”

Phyllis sank into the bench. To think, not three months ago these same readers praised her column for dishing Spellfire’s dirt.

“I’ve opted instead,” Maejika was saying, “to give your column space to Winkle.”

“Winkle? That conniving fairy?”

“Now, Phyllis. That was just a phase in college, so he says. And I can’t help his tastes in clothing.”

Phyllis shook her head wearily; she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Winkle was, literally, a fairy. His extremely short stature, coupled by a strong pair of wings, had made him an asset at the Spawn as a roving reporter—to procure gossip on the sly wouldn’t be a problem for him.

Phyllis had known for a while, too, that Winkle wanted his own column, and wondered how he managed to talk Maejika into it. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear later that those wispy wings affixed to Winkle’s back could do more than fly. Fly Maejika to the moon with a few swats to her clit, more than likely.

“Maejika, please, give me one more chance,” Phyllis begged, and pulled the cape tighter around her body. The thin cape did little to keep her warm; she could feel her nipples poking through the fabric. “I know I haven’t been at top form of late, but what if...”

She stopped as the bell at the front door signaled the entrance of a dark, handsome gentleman in a white turtleneck and charcoal pants. Werner Dryden brushed fallen bangs from his forehead and scanned the breadth of the ice cream parlor before his piercing golden gaze settled on Electra. Smiling, he approached the shop’s owner and greeted her with a friendly smile and handshake.

Oh, but he was gorgeous, and one of the most eligible bachelors in Spellfire now that Anton Spellfire was to be married.

“What if,” Phyllis repeated, her eye fixed on Werner, “I got you the scoop of the year?”

Maejika stirred another packet of sweetener in her mug. “We already have somebody covering the Sundae Spectacular,” she said, “and there’s really not much gossip attached to that event.”

“I don’t mean a literal scoop, Maejika. Werner Dryden is hosting Anton’s bachelor party tomorrow night. It’s supposed to be top secret, but everybody knows about it. They just don’t know what’s going to happen. If I could just get inside...”

Maejika looked up and turned, matching Phyllis’ gaze to the handsome gentleman now following Electra to the kitchen. “I see,” she said, now smiling at Phyllis. “Though, looking at you now, you’d probably rather have Werner inside of you.”

Phyllis rolled her eyes and didn’t give Maejika the satisfaction of flaunting her observational skills. “If I deliver details of the party, can I keep my column?”

“Yes,” Maejika said, firm. “And, to be safe, you’d better give me the cape back.”

Phyllis grinned and willed her body to fade. Her milk white skin, slender fingers, and long red hair dissolved into nothing.

“Seriously,” Maejika said. “The way you look at Werner, you’re probably already about to come, and I don’t want you getting it on my cape. She snatched back the jingling fabric. “And try not to drip on the floor.”

Tarot & Toasted Almonds

Anne Leland

Chapter One

A knock on her door was the last thing Serena expected to hear after the witching hour. Yet, the steady rhythm of need rang its insistent thrum across the aged wood.

She wrapped a shawl around her bare shoulders, slipped off the couch and walked over to the window, overseeing the front porch.

Normally, her heart might jump in the familiar pattern of a mother who fears the worst for her child, but she’d just spoken with Marissa an hour ago and knew she was tucked away in the arms of her husband. Serena still didn’t approve of her daughter taking up with one of her college professors, but Marissa was old enough to make decisions on her own—wise or not.

Peering through the slit in the curtain, she could barely make out the shape of her visitor in the moonless night. Whoever it was, he was here on a mission. Knock, after booming knock, splintered the surface of the old oak. Any more of this nonsense and there might not be a paint chip left to splatter.

She moved away from the window and walked over to the front door. Slipping the chain off the lock and turning the knob, she eased the door open and peered out into the darkness. Before she could identify her midnight caller and offer a “hello,” the door slammed open. Serena stumbled backward as her heel caught the edge of her silk nightgown.

Her breath caught in her throat. Chase MacGregor’s bulky frame filled the doorway. It wasn’t the tense strain of muscle rippling beneath his arms that shook her, nor the fact that he could crush half the town without blinking; it was the wild look of hunger and pain in his eyes.

She stuck out her chin and straightened her back, in an attempt to coax her petite body into a more intimidating pose. “I’m not going to be your supper tonight. Go home.”

“I’m not here for that,” he growled.

“Go back and find your hermit hole in the woods, MacGregor, lest I be tempted to gift you with a curse.” The threat was full of false bravado, but very few would argue with a gypsy threat. Rumors around town had her turning harpies into toads with a glance, and, as far as Serena was concerned, she was just fine with that. It kept the unenlightened from bothering her and ensured her safety on more than one occasion.

It just didn’t seem to be working now.

Chase squinted his eyes, as the beginning of a smirk caught the end of his lips. Nice lips at that. For a reclusive werewolf, he had an amazing amount of charm. Not that she cared; she needed a new Tarot deck more than she needed another lover. Her last romp with a self-pretentious vampire left her far more bitten than smitten.

“You underestimate me, Lady Gael. I already know your many talents do not include curses.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

His brow furrowed, as he appeared to contemplate her bluff.

“I thought as much. Head my warning then.”

“Hold up a minute.” Chase raised a hand in protest.

He had big hands. Capable of… never mind. Serena, you don’t need to go there.

An awkward silence filled the foyer.

Chase cleared his throat. “I came here to… uh…”

“Go on.”

“Well, uh…” he suddenly took on the appearance of a young man about to ask his first date for a kiss. “I need your help.”

“I’m not on the market for that sort of help.”

“You don’t read Tarot, anymore?”

“Oh, of course, I do.” What was she thinking? For a moment there, she wished she were the young lover, waiting impatiently for his lips to caress hers.

“Then, will you help me?”

“The cards do help, Mr. MacGregor, but they merely shed light upon that which we already know. If it’s prophecy or fortune-telling you seek, you’ll not find it here.”

“Damn, this was a fool mistake to think you, or anyone, would understand.”

Chase drew his upper lip back to bare his fangs while a barely audible growl rolled along the back of his throat. He turned his back to her, stepped away from the doorway and disappeared into the black night.

Serena stood at the door a minute before shutting it, half expecting the werewolf to return and lay claim to her flesh. Half wanting him to taste her in a most inappropriate way.

She slipped the chain link back in place and stared down at the worn braid rug beneath her feet.

Some things were simply better left alone, weren’t they?

* * * *

The curve of her breasts, thinly veiled by the crochet shawl, branded a vibrant picture in his head.

How could this be possible?

She wasn’t of his kind.

Chase’s ‘mate’ radar shifted into overdrive—an experience he’d only had once before, with Jason’s mother—a she-wolf.

How could a gypsy possibly evoke such a burn?

Maybe he’d spent a few too many years in solitude.

Which was now coming back to bite him in the ass. Big time.

Sending Jason off to be raised by his aunt, Elora, seemed like a reasonably good idea. Until today. When Jason appeared at the door of his cabin, Chase barely recognized him. Thin. Way too thin for his seven-foot frame. And hiding something. He was sure of it.

Or maybe just hiding?

Damn. He’d been sure Lady Gael could tell him what secrets Jason kept; her fortune-telling abilities were legendary. He was sure, that is, until she opened the door. The force of her mating call kicked him in the chest, and his jeans suddenly morphed into a taut prison. Good thing her eyes never left his face.

What in hell was he going to do now?

He couldn’t go back there.

He couldn’t come within ten feet of her, ever again.

If he did, only the Gods would be able to restrain him.

In the deep cloak of the woods, he still tasted her scent. Woodsy. Ethereal. Spicy.

Maybe she gave readings over the phone?

He’d have to have one installed first. How far would they run the phone line to accommodate him? Maybe one of Lady Gael’s neighbors would be willing to…? No.

No one needed to know about his problems. One gossip and, the next thing you knew, the whole world wanted in your window. He had more than his fill of paparazzi for one lifetime. No one in Spellfire knew anything about that past, and he had no intention of going back there.

Back there equaled pain beyond his limitations.

Wafers & Wishes

Emery Larue

Kayne Niam stood at the window of his shop, watching Spellfire in all it’s early morning glory. This truly was a magical place. He could truly, never be this happy anyplace else on earth. He pursed his lips at that thought. He loved Spellfire and he was happy. But he was damn lonely. He was a healer, helped many with wounds on their bodies, hearts and souls. He baked a wafer for everything. But, no wafer would help him, not the way he helped the others.

Wishes and Wafers was established right on the main street next to the Candied Kisses sweets shop. Candy Piper was a beautiful woman. He had always thought so. The day she walked down the isle he had smiled and wished her all the luck in the world. Beautiful she was, but for him, she was not. Candy spent most of her days now in the big house her new husband had built for her, but she still popped in from time to time. Checking on her shop and saying a hello to him when she did. He envied her husband.

Kayne knew jealousy didn’t cause his envy. The bond the couple shared—like all the other couples of the town—he craved the bond, but he had yet to find his other half. Though he knew she was out there. He could feel her, like a pulse inside of his veins. His dreams were more frequent, dreams of a small house, built in a sparkling meadow, a far cry from his small home above his shop.

He thought once again about his idea to draw her to him. Though he was mainly a healer, he wasn’t without other means. Just a small spell so he could catch a glance of the woman meant for him and give him something to look forward to and smile about each day.

Without a conscious thought, he ignored the sign on the door, choosing to remain closed today. Today was the day Kayne would catch a glimpse of his future.

He drew the shades closed, and walked into the back room. His baking area glistened and his ingredients were lined up on the counter for the work today. He knew he couldn’t eat a wafer and make a wish, but, he could make one especially for her so she would seek him out. He knew the chances were slim, but maybe by the end of the day, he would at least know her.

He began to mix his batter. All the while in his mind repeating the litany of his deepest desire, to see the woman who held his heart, even though she was not aware of the fact.

“Show her to me. Bring her to me.”

For years, he helped the true hearted patrons reach for and obtain their greatest desire. It was his turn to try a little of the magic himself.

When his batter began to thicken, he poured the small amount onto a sheet, and with knowing hands, molded it into the image of a woman. He could feel his hands grow warm and knew the energy was pouring from him into his creation. Kayne had no idea of her true image, but he allowed his heart to guide him.

Once the shape took form, he brought his hands over the little woman made of sugar and spice, and he hovered, focusing his energy. His hearts wish and his deepest desire began to seep from his fingertips into the dough. His chant occupied his mind fully, banishing other thoughts and a light emanated from his hands, slowly chasing away the darker shadows from the dimly lit room. The power of the spell grew stronger, and the light became brighter until—with a flash—all of the energy infused the now golden wafer.

Finished and drained, Kayne retreated into the storefront. He discovered morning had passed, and the afternoon sun was peeking through the blinds. He sat in a corner booth, waiting. If he worked each step of the spell properly, she could be here anytime. The door was locked, but she would find a way inside. That is how he knew it would truly be her. He rested his elbows on the table and waited.

Things and Hot Taffy

Leanne Strange

Chapter One

Taffeta Trueheart slammed the empty glass on the counter. “Hit me again.”

The waitress standing next to the cash register blurred into identical twins then reformed back into one body and picked up the glass. “Are you sure you want another, Taffy? This’ll make your third.”

“I’m shhhure.” Taffy nodded and belched. “Hit me again, Harpy. I can handle it.”

Harpy Spellfire, night manager of Sinful Sundaes Ice Cream Shoppe, propped her hands on her hips. “You know how sugar affects you Tooth Fairies.”

Taffy frowned. “I’m not a Tooth Fairy anymore.”

“You may not be a practicing Tooth Fairy, but it’s still in your blood.”

“There’s-sh no money in it, except for the kids who lose their teeth. Why, if I had a dime for every tooth I collected, I’d be rich-as rich as the rich witch my boyfriend left me for.”

“Sorry to hear about that,” Harpy called over the sound of the blender as she mixed the toffee shake. “You lost your new job at Otto’s Oddities, sprained your wrist, and now this.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Taffy stuck out her tongue at Harpy, but she wasn’t really mad at her.

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.” Harpy set a full glass in front of her.

Taffy stabbed a Spooktacular Straw into the frothy frappe and sucked until she made noises with the straw at the bottom of the empty glass.

“And as your friend,” Harpy continued, “I’m cutting you off after this one. You’re three shakes to the wind, and you’ll never be able to fly home.”

“I can’t fly anymore. The Tooth Fairy Queen resshin...resshinded...uh, took away my wings and wand when I quit the biz.”

“Gee, that’s too bad.”

“That’s okay. I never much liked flying anyway.” Taffy shrugged then quickly laid her head on the counter to stop the room from spinning around her. “Besides, I could only fly at night and only to houses with children who lost their teeth. What a drag.”

Harpy laughed. “I love flying.”

“I saw you at the Valentine’s Day Picnic,” Taffy murmured. “It’s wonderful your wings are working. And it’s great about you and Derek getting married. I wissh I could have been at the wedding, but the Tooth Fairy Queen called a special meeting that day. On Valentine’s Day of all dayssh!”

Taffy felt and heard a thump on the counter, and found herself staring at eight fingers and two thumbs. She blinked and a hand with only four fingers and one thumb came into focus.

“Hey, Manny,” Harpy greeted him.

Mano A. Mano, whom everyone called Manny, wore a dashing black leather bandana, pirate style, over and around his detached wrist. The knotted end trailed down along his pinky, where he wore a simple gold ring. Without a day job to keep her on schedule, she had returned to her natural Tooth Fairy hours-awake all night, sleeping all day. Since she started drowning her sorrows in sugar two weeks ago, she had seen Manny in Sins every night. But she’d never seen him dressed up like this before.

She raised her hand and waggled her fingers at him. “Hi, Manny.”

Manny tip-fingered closer to her then jumped as if startled when Harpy opened the cash register.

“Ready when you are, Manny. I’ll be in the back.” Harpy disappeared through the kitchen door.

Manny gave the thumbs up to Harpy’s retreating back then hopped into the cash drawer.

Taffy closed her eyes, and let the sound of ruffling bills and clinking coins soothe her frazzled nerves. So, she didn’t have a job, and she didn’t have a boyfriend. Who cared? She would find another of each and get back on her feet soon-as soon as her wrist healed.

As a last resort, she could return to the Tooth Fairy biz. It paid a pittance, but she would have free room and board at the Tooth Castle. The Tooth Fairy Queen might not like her, but Her Royal Pain-In-The-Ass would have to take Taffy back. Taffy was a Trueheart, after all. She could trace her fairy lineage farther back than any other Tooth Fairy at the castle, including the Queen herself!

A sliding sound on the counter made Taffy open her eyes. Manny had finished counting the day’s receipts, the bills and coins stacked neatly beside the register. He tapped a piece of paper near her head with one finger.

She raised her head. The words on the flyer ran together then separated and became legible...

Taffy Pulling Contest at Sinful Sundaes! Join in the fun of an old-fashioned taffy pull. Winner receives a year’s supply of ice cream.

“You going to enter, Manny?” she asked.

Manny’s thumb and pinky stuck out and he twisted his wrist in a shrug. =Can’t,= he tapped in Morse code. =One hand =.

Manny was one of the few who knew she understood Morse code. Taffy’s maternal grandmother had been the telegraph operator at the Tooth Castle in the late 1800s. Grammamá insisted Taffy learn the series of dots and dashes. With a sparkle in her eye, she said one never knew when it might come in handy. Taffy now wondered if Grammamá possessed a bit of the Fae sight and foresaw Taffy’s friendship with Manny.

“Oh, sorry. I’m in the same boat with my sprained wrist.” She held up her left hand and showed him the bandage. “I saw the witch doctor today, and I can’t use it for two weeks. The taffy pull is in two days.”

Manny made a fist and scratched his thumb with his forefinger, as if thinking. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. =You can use your right hand and I’m left,= he tapped.

She smiled at him. “You’re a genius! If we work together, we can win that taffy pull.”

She held out her right hand for a low five, and Manny’s fingers slid onto hers instead of slapping her hand. Her eyesight blurred and she blinked. Something shot into her palm, reminding her of heat lightning. She’d been struck a few times—another downside to the tooth fairy biz—while flying on stormy nights to some ungrateful brat’s house to make the exchange.

This sensation felt the same, yet different. The electric buzz that started at her hand turned into a warm thread spiraling up her arm and weaving its way into her abdomen...and even lower. This was the most unusual low five she’d ever experienced in her life.

Taffy jerked her hand free. She shouldn’t have lusty thoughts about Manny. His body consisted of nothing other than a hand-a sentient, sensitive hand but only a hand nonetheless. Maybe another milkshake would make her forget what his touch stirred in her. Surely, she could talk her friend Harpy into just one more.

She reached for the empty shake glass, but Manny pushed it aside. He shook a “no-no” finger at her

She rolled her eyes, knowing very well what Manny was talking—er, fingering about. She really didn’t need any more. A couple made her tipsy, but more than that, like she’d had tonight, and she was on a sugar drunk.

Manny pushed the glass farther away and tapped out a message. She shook her head to clear it, and then listened more closely as he repeated it, to make sure she heard correctly.

“You want to walk me home?”

=Yes.=

“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to, Manny. I’ll stumble home safely by myself. It’s not far.”

He rapped the counter top loudly.

“Hey, no need to get upset with me, buddy. Stop being so insistent. All right, already, you can walk me home.”

Manny dipped his wrist in a nod. She smiled at him, but found it odd that a bodiless hand wanted to walk her home. So how did a hand walk a woman home? With quick little fingertip steps, she imagined.

He hopped on her left shoulder as she grabbed her purse and stood up on wobbly legs. “Okay, little guy, let’s get outta here before Harpy throws me out. I’m cut off, you know.”

He took an indignant stance with thumb akimbo.

She chuckled. “Sorry, Manny, didn’t mean to imply you’re short, so don’t go getting all huffy on me. Y’know, you have very long, strong fingers.”

He slid down until his palm rested on her shoulder then squeezed affectionately. Nope, he wasn’t mad at her. Manny was something else. No wonder everybody in Spellfire liked him. Well, almost everybody. Otto the Ogre and Frightful Frieda didn’t like anyone.

She smiled at him and started out the door. Manny was light on her physically, but somehow, she felt safer with him accompanying her. She liked having him for a friend. It beat that deadpan boyfriend...er, ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, Manny, where do you live?”

=Boodoirs,= he tapped on her shoulder. She couldn’t hear the taps, but feeling them worked just as well. =By the fishpond.=

“I didn’t know they had a guest cottage in the back.”

=They don’t.=

“Oh, hmmm—” Before she could ask about it, her foot slipped on the edge of the curb and she grabbed the lamppost to keep from falling. “Whoops!”

When she straightened, she held a poster that she’d inadvertently torn down. These particular missing person posters had been a permanent fixture around Spellfire ever since Abigail Normil went missing after the election where she’d campaigned against her brother, the present mayor Perry Normil. Taffy felt bad about the poster, but she had no way to fasten it to the lamppost again. She propped it against the base, knowing Abby’s fiancé Daniel J. Nightshade would fix it tomorrow. DJ had never given up on finding Abby even after all these years.

Taffy wished for someone to love her that much. If she disappeared tomorrow, would anyone in Spellfire keep hoping for her return years later?

Manny had gripped her shoulder to keep from tumbling off. Now, he shook a finger at her.

“I’ll be careful. Not to worry,” she assured him.

He rubbed her cheek, his knuckles a soft caress against her skin. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the gentle stroking of a man’s hand. How long had it been? Even her ex hadn’t touched her in such a way. He’d been too rough and brutish. She really didn’t miss him at all and was glad to be rid of him.

Taffy turned down a side street that led to a residential area. A waist-high wooden fence enclosed the first yard they came to. Manny jumped off her shoulder and onto the ledge created by the top cross board holding the pickets together. He finger-walked along now at her side.

“I’m staying at my friend Shai’s townhouse. Shai is off on a wild two-week vacation in France with her boyfriends.” Taffy sighed. “She has two nice guys at her beck and call, and I can’t even find one!”

Manny stopped, and Taffy did, too, to listen to what he had to say.

=You’re beautiful, smart, and sweet. Any man would be lucky to have you.=

“Aw, thanks, Manny.” She started walking again. “You’re a sweetheart yourself.”

Manny hopped on her shoulder just as they reached the end of the block. When Taffy stepped off the curb, a figure dressed in black came out of nowhere and snatched her purse out of her hand before she could react.

“Hey, stop that!” she shouted.

Before all the words left her mouth, Manny took a flying leap and landed on the mugger’s back. Wide-eyed, Taffy watched as the force of Manny’s attack knocked the man to the ground. Manny jumped to his neck, flipped him over, and wrapped his fingers around his throat. The mugger made horrible gurgling sounds, kicking and pulling at Manny. He finally managed to free himself from Manny’s powerful grip, scrambled to his feet, and raced away.

Taffy gaped at Manny hurrying back to her, purse trailing behind him by the handle hooked around his thumb. He leapt up on the narrow ledge of the concrete base of the lamppost and presented her purse to her.

“Oh, wow, that was incredible, Manny. Thank you.” She took her purse. “You are amazing. My hero.”

She reached out to touch him, running her fingertips across his knuckles and down the side of his pinky. She took him in hand, her fingers pressing into his warm palm. Then she did something she never thought she’d ever do...she leaned over and placed a kiss just above his row of knuckles.

The kiss sobered her and left her breathless. She picked him up and sat him on her shoulder then crossed the street to the next block.

His palm rested near the curve of her neck, and his fingers dangled casually on the skin exposed by her off-the-shoulder blouse. His thumb gently rubbed the back of her neck. His touch now sent her senses reeling. How could she be attracted to a hand?

There was much more to Manny than just a hand, of course. Somehow, he saw without eyes, heard without ears, and comprehended without a brain. All that suggested magic was involved, bad magic. More than likely, someone had cursed the man Manny used to be.

“Here we are.” Taffy turned onto the walk leading up to the three-story townhouse. “Shai said I could stay as long as I want, but I’d like to find a job and get a place of my own before she returns.”

Inside, the delicious cool air hit her and everything fled her mind except how tired she was. She didn’t think she could make it to the guest bedroom. She kicked off her shoes on the way to the sofa and flopped down on it.

“No point in going all the way across town this late, Manny. You can crash here tonight,” she offered with a yawn. “Pull up a pillow or just bunk with me on the sofa. I have to get up early to go job hunting tomorrow.”

She snuggled in, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

Fresh Fruit and Fate

Ann Regentin

Chapter One

Demetrius smiled as he drove a finish nail into the back of a new cabinet with a single stroke. He was a lucky man and he knew it. Although machines had replaced men in some ways, there was always a demand for custom carpentry, especially good custom carpentry, and Demetrius loved his job. He loved working with wood, and with centuries of experience under his belt, he was outstanding. Anything done by putting tools to wood, he could do better anyone else.

That was why Electra at Sinful Sundaes had called him. She needed new cabinets and display cases, and she wanted something better than what she could get from the industrial catalogues. She wanted doors that were easy to clean and wouldn’t stick, shelving that was designed for her current needs and could be adapted to future changes without replacing the entire unit, and she wanted it all to be as beautiful as it was functional.

She wanted, in other words, the sort of work Demetrius thrived on, and he gave her a quote square in the middle of the usual bidding range. She accepted without hesitation, and now he was staying in a hotel in Spellfire while he rebuilt a good deal of the store.

This was his first week on the job, and so far he was enjoying it. Spellfire was an interesting town, and Electra kept giving him free ice cream, which was not something Demetrius ever turned down. She was also understanding about the mess and chaos involved in renovations. No matter how hard he tried, he left a wake of exposed structure, sawdust and noise as he worked, but he was a carpenter, not a genie. He did things the old-fashioned way.

It was mid-morning on a Friday when he heard the back door of Sinful Sundaes bang open. He looked up to see a woman with silvery-brown skin and deep green hair hoisting a crate of something through the door. She wore a tank top and a pair of boot-cut jeans, and if her hair hadn’t given her away as a dryad, her eyes would have. They were ancient and startlingly inhuman, the eyes of a tree. Then again, a dryad was the soul of a tree. He wondered what one was doing unloading what appeared to be blueberries from the back of a van.

“Let me get that,” he said, grabbing for the heavy door.

“Thanks,” she said with a strong, Greek accent as she went in to settle her crates.

“Do you have more to bring in?” he said in Greek.

She smiled broadly. “Yes,” she said, also in Greek. “Can you get the door for me?”

“No problem.” He held the door for her she unloaded, watching her rear end at every opportunity. It was well worth watching.

By the time she finished, he’d made up his mind that he’d like to do more than just watch, if there was any way he could arrange it. “I’m Demetrius,” he said as he held out his hand.

“Achlys,” she said, taking it. “How long have you been here?”

“In Spellfire?” he asked. “Less than a week. In North America? About ten years. How about you?”

“About fifteen years, all of them in Spellfire. Where else have you lived?”

“I don’t live here or anywhere else,” he said, grinning. “I’m an itinerant carpenter. I go wherever I can find work. Do you like it here?”

“I live about ten miles out of town,” she said, “but it’s a good town.”

“Listen, I have to get back to work or Electra will fire me. How often do you make deliveries here?”

“Every other day,” she said.

“I’ll see you Monday, then,” he said.

She flashed him a wide, bright smile. “Yeah. I’ll see you next week.”

Even in a town like Spellfire, he was surprised to see a dryad. They rarely left their trees, and they definitely weren’t prone to transatlantic travel. There also weren’t many left. Greece had suffered the same deforestation that every other country had, driving woodland spirits nearly into extinction.

Achlys was an olive tree. He knew wood, knew trees, and the deep shade of her hair and eyes were a dead giveaway. It made him ache for home. He hadn’t been back to Greece in so long it hurt, and home was full of olive groves.

Some had been cut down to make way for modern life, but agriculture was still an important part of the peninsula’s economy. There were olive trees there that had stood for over a hundred years, trees that still had dryads in them. He missed the trees, and he missed the dryads, too.

“Hey Demetrius!” Electra carefully poked her head into the corner of the storeroom Demetrius had commandeered for his workshop. “It’s almost time to pack up. Want some ice cream? We just had a blueberry delivery and they’re great.”

“I know,” he said. “I helped her unload. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll take you up on that.”

“No problem.”

Demetrius finished up and cleaned up, then loaded his equipment into the back of his truck and locked the toolboxes. Electra, true to her word, was garnishing a large bowl of vanilla ice cream with a generous handful of berries. “How’s the work going?” she asked.

“On time and on budget,” Demetrius answered around a spoonful of cold bliss. He was used to worried clients. Louis the XIV had worried, too. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know how long things take and how much they cost.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “It’s just that—“

“You’re spending a lot of money on this and now you have buyer’s remorse,” he said, grinning. “Don’t worry. The new cases will last for years. Do you know anything about Achlys?”

“Achlys? The dryad? Oh, jeeze! It’s an awful story. The short version is that she’s the Guardian.”

“Demeter’s Guardian?” Demetrius asked, surprised. “The Garden is here?”

“Yes to both.”

Demeter was the goddess of earth and nature, and her Garden was essentially a memorial to the world’s extinct plants. Although Demetrius had heard of it, he’d never known where it was, mostly because Demeter preferred to keep it that way. It was hidden in plain sight, much as Spellfire itself, so perhaps it was no surprise to find it in the vicinity. The Garden always had a Guardian, someone whose life energy was bound to sustaining it. It wasn’t enough to have the plants exist someone had to remember them and care for them, and that was the Guardian. Without a Guardian, the Garden would wither and die.

“How did a dryad end up as Guardian? Where’s her tree?”

Electra sighed. “That’s the awful part. About fifteen years ago, they were clearing an olive grove, and one of the trees had a dryad. That was Achlys. Demeter got wind of it and went to her because the Garden had just lost its Guardian, and she wanted to offer Achlys a chance to live. Achlys took it, but unfortunately not before a bulldozer took off the lower part of her left leg. They couldn’t save it. She almost bled to death.”

“Damn!” Demetrius’s ice cream suddenly lost its flavor. “What happened to the tree?”

“They couldn’t save that, either,” Electra said. “Achlys still has it, but it died when it was transplanted. Bulldozers aren’t gentle and it was old even for an olive.”

Demetrius knew which blow had struck hardest. A dryad could eventually learn to live without both legs and arms, but he had never heard of one outliving her tree. “Why didn’t Demeter let her die?”

“Achlys was already bound and anyway, who else would take on the Garden? It can’t be left, not for long anyway. Dryads are used to having a limited range. The rest of us like a bit more mobility.”

“How well do you know her?”

“Nobody knows her.” Electra sighed ruefully. “I’d like to wimp out and say that she’s shy and doesn’t even try to make friends because both are true, but it’s also true that most of us can’t relate. Nobody knows what to say. She’s essentially a soul without a body, and none of us can understand that, and the body she has is missing a leg, which makes it even worse. None of us know how to talk to her or what to say. I know there are support groups, but they’re for humans. The poor thing is a fish out of water no matter where she goes.”

“Does she live out there entirely alone?”

“No,” Electra said. “There’s a colony of little fairies here, and right now they’re staying in the Garden. They earn their keep by helping Achlys with the plants, but I’m not sure I’d call them good companions. Those damned things are like winged toddlers. They’re into everything and have no idea of how their actions affect other people, not to mention having nothing resembling common sense. If it amuses them, they do it, and you wouldn’t believe what amuses them.”

Demetrius was pretty sure that Achlys could handle the fairies. He’d seen olive trees get chopped down, only to have branches grow out from the severed stump. Achlys’ smile reminded him of those branches.

Saturdae: Sexparilla Shakes & Spacemen

Mae Powers

Chapter One

Teth zoomed around Mars with light speed. Next stop, Earth. His biggest account was on Earth. Well, particularly in Spellfire Texas, USA, Planet Earth. Still, he sometimes hated coming to the Big Blue Planet. Every year, for the last decade, it seemed he got more lethargic with each visit. The Plutonian doctor back home said it could be a difference in the atmospheric conditions. He hoped that’s all it was then and that was all that was making his libido a limpido.

He checked his landing gear, making sure the ship’s controls were on silent mode. This way, the regular humans couldn’t contact him, when he put his space ship on stealth mode and automatic pilot entry. His reliable vessel knew how to get him home and where to land safely upon this strange world. He’d be the landing specifically just outside a town called Spellfire. The inhabitants of Spellfire were some of his best customers. They bought huge amounts of Plutonian Pretzels and Puffs. He’d been coming there for years; well especially since most of the paranormal folk didn’t find it odd that he came from another planet.

His first stop, usually in Spellfire was at Sinful Sundaes Ice cream Shop. He’d been going there almost since its current owner took over the shop from her elderly kin. He liked the camaraderie though of Electra Spellfire, and most of the inhabitants of Spellfire and Sins, as it was nicknamed. The place, and all of Spellfire, fascinated him more than any Plutonian or Earth soap opera. Its variety of townsfolk almost always amazed, and amused him somehow.

The last few years, he’d been coming, he made friends with several people; like Adam Spellfire, who devoutly devoured Plutonian Pretzels. He also became fond of meeting and chatting with Shonda Lamont, a weekend waitress and counter person, also a witch who worked on her masters degree in bio magic. The thought of Shonda always made his groins grow with need. Yet, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask her out on what humans called a date. That and Plutonian law forbade him to get involved with aliens, no matter how pretty they were.

Still, lately, the trips back and forth from Pluto to Earth were wearing out his libido. Earth’s atmosphere, and the Texas humidity, were starting to put a limp in his g-factor. And Plutonian males usually never wearied out! Most Plutonians were adaptable to any atmospheric condition, especially with their shiny, silver all-in-one space flight suits, they were most of the time. Of late, his blue-skinned girlfriend dumped him last year because she smelled too much Earth scent on him and he couldn’t perform to her icy, high classed expectations.

Normally he went to Earth during the Earth winter, but with Plutonian trade regulations getting all convoluted, his shorter trips had to be made during Earth summers and early fall, due to the regulating of off world commercialism coming in and out of Pluto. Most Earthers didn’t know he came from another planet, but those in Spellfire, mostly the paranormal ones, did know about his otherworldly activities. They didn’t find him any odder than he did them.

The Plutonian Ice House Committee took more from his pocket than he cared for, but there was naught he could do about that. A guy had to make a living in this galaxy somehow or another. After getting his supplies out and locking up his vessel, he wheeled his large boxy product case and made his way into town.

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