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Nadia El-Fassi Biography

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“Can you forgive me, sweet boy? For that night?" Hank tilted his head to the side again, and seemed to reply by giving Ellis's hand a sloppy lick. "Thank you, Hank. I know you can't understand, but you saved me. Again and again, just by being there. My life was fuller because of you. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. And I love you, so much." He patted the air softly. "You can go now, sweet boy." Hank stilled, as if Ellis's words were settling over him. Rosemary felt the air around them swell and for a second the world grew soft and permeable. She heard a raspy bark, as if down a long echo, and Hank dissolved into moonlight.”

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“Lemon verbena, though. That's my favorite. It's a pretty hardy plant, and you can turn it into a tisane. In Morocco we call it louiza." "Louiza?" "You add the leaves to boiled water and they let out the most deliciously sweet fragrance. Not exactly lemony--- more like a honey balm." "What does the tea taste like?" he asked. "Sort of like chamomile, maybe, but with more body, and sweeter.”

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“It was a fairy moon. Pearlescent, glowing, and hanging low in the sky---cit was the kind of moon that spelled mischief and delight. Dina stood at the edge of the north field, where the fire was already burning. It had all been arranged by Nour, a kind of witchy wedding gift. Dina inhaled the midnight air, sweet and smoky. Her mother was silhouetted by the fire, loosening her hair from the updo she'd styled it in for the evening. Dina would be like her mother tonight: untamable, wild.”

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“It was a fairy moon. Pearlescent, glowing, and hanging low in the sky---it was the kind of moon that spelled mischief and delight. Dina stood at the edge of the north field, where the fire was already burning. It had all been arranged by Nour, a kind of witchy wedding gift. Dina inhaled the midnight air, sweet and smoky. Her mother was silhouetted by the fire, loosening her hair from the updo she'd styled it in for the evening. Dina would be like her mother tonight: untamable, wild.”

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“The stewards of Honeywell House had really outdone themselves with the decorations. As with the rehearsal dinner, everything was lit by candlelight. Delicate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, light danced from the brass sconces on the walls, and there were pillars holding bowls of water with small tealight candles floating on the top in the shape of water lilies. It was like a set from one of those Nancy Meyers movies his mums had made him watch growing up.”

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“It depends on if I like the drink." He flashed her a grin. "You'll like it. Soft or hard?" Rosemary's brain went straight to the gutter. "Hard, please." Ellis pulled out a bottle of dark spiced rum, lemon juice, and a smaller curved bottle of maple syrup. He measured out the shots, filled the shaker with ice, and, with a firm smack, pushed the glass and shaker together. She watched, a little transfixed, as Ellis shook the liquid back and forth, his forearms flexing, before he dislodged the two pieces and sifted the cocktail into an elegant coupe glass. Ellis handed her the glass. "Tell me what you think." The liquid was a deep golden color. Rosemary took a small sip; the spiciness of the rum hit her first, an exquisite burning down her throat. And then the sweet smokiness of the maple syrup. Her eyes nearly rolled back into her skull because damn, this was delicious. "Fuck me," she moaned, immediately realizing the words that had just come out of her mouth. She wondered what point in this conversation might be a good time to crawl into a ball and die.”

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“I need you, but not here." She looked up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. And then Dina took off at a run, rushing back through the trees toward the cottage. Christ, the way her ass bounced up and down as she ran; he was ruined. He was going to make her scream his name, again and again. She was making him chase her, and he was more than happy to. With a growl, Scott began to run, chasing Dina through the winding trees and onto the path to their cottage.”

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“And I get to decide when you come." Ellis ground his cock against her core, knowing precisely what he was doing to her, knowing how the edges of an orgasm were already building. She was a bundle of nerves, ready to break. Ellis thrust hard against her once. "Fuck!" Rosemary cried out, her orgasm so, so close. But then he pulled away. She contemplated begging. "Does that all sound good to you, love?" Ellis asked, a boyish, mischievous, and all-too-smug expression on his face. She nodded, even as she was slick with need. "Good," Ellis smiled, before slanting his lips against hers once more.”

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“You're fucking soaked, love." "Sorry." "Don't apologize. I love it. I love that I can do this to you." Ellis circled her clit with his fingers, his eyes on the road and right hand on the steering wheel. "All this talk about kinks made you wet, didn't it, sweetheart? Imagining what I'm going to do to you?" His fingers dipped into the heat of her core as his thumbs continued to stroke her clit. "Mmm, yes," she murmured, her head tipping back against the seat. "You want to come for me, love?" "Please." Ellis fucked her with his hand, loving the deliciously filthy sound of it, until her body began to clench around him. Then he pulled his hand out, and sucked his fingers into his mouth, tasting her, like honey and sea salt.”

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“So this was Rosemary Shaw. The woman who had tried to get him pulled from the movie. She was nothing like Ellis had expected, when he'd imagined their meeting. No, instead, he was faced with a haughty little North American woman who looked like she'd just stepped out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Her long wavy copper hair was plaited back, exposing the smooth, pale column of her neck, and her face was framed with cat's-eye glasses that only served to accentuate her piercing gaze. She was young, younger than many of the screenwriters he knew. There was a sunniness about her that spoke of someone who wasn't yet as disillusioned with the industry as he was. Peachy, that's how he'd describe her.”

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“Dina couldn't tell where she ended and where Scott began; it was hot and messy and every millisecond of it felt excruciatingly good. "I want to see you," he said, scooping her up and swinging her on top of him, so her thighs straddled his. "Ride this cock," he ordered. The command shivered through her deliciously. Dina was on top of him, and as he lay back she planted her palms on his chest, feeling the rollicking beats of his heart, knotting her fingers around the black curls of his chest hair. This was all new; she'd never been on top of a man before. It had never really felt like there had been time for it, like the guy had always been chasing his orgasm, and having Dina on top would have been as a waste of time. But not for Scott. He hissed with pleasure as Dina ground down on his cock, her hips thrusting back and forth, each movement sending a surge of delicious pulsing through her. It was almost too much for her, taking him all like this. Scott gripped her ass, keeping her moving with him as the wave of pleasure rocketed over her, the jagged, raw orgasm rushing through her. "Scott, Scott," she whispered, and he was there. His huge arms wrapped around her, his chest pressed against her, rocking gently as pleasure throbbed through her. "I can feel you coming. Come for me, sweetheart, come on this cock," he hissed into her neck, licking up the sweat that beaded there.”

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“He teased the tip of his cock right at her entrance, desperate to feel her smooth heat around him. Dina hissed, shifting herself so she could take more than just the tip. "Should I make you beg for it, Dina?" He reached around her, caressing her clit with his thumb. "Please," she moaned, and that was all it took. Scott thrust in, pleasure cascading from the tip of his cock all around his trembling body. Everything about Dina was perfect, and she was his, she was his. Scott fisted his hand in Dina's curls; every inch of him sank into her warmth as she writhed in pleasure. "Come for me again, sweetheart, come all over this cock." It wasn't long before she shuddered against him, letting out a delicious moan. Scott rolled her over and scooped her into his arms, resting her ass on the desk. Down on his knees he tasted her again, sweetness and salt and something indescribably Dina.”

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“Dina had meant to get a black cat when she'd gone to the cat shelter a few years ago; she loved the way they looked like little pockets of midnight. But then she'd heard a grumpy yowling coming from a small cage near her feet. "That one's just come in, the vet reckons it's a feral one. No microchip," the man who worked there had said. Dina had crouched down and locked eyes with the cat, who was mostly black but with a golden crescent shape on top of her head and a creamy white belly. Heebie, who hadn't even had a name then, had bumped Dina's outstretched knuckle with her head, and Dina had felt the warmth of the cat's cheek and known instantly that she had found her familiar.”

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“Dina slipped out of the bathroom and nearly walked directly into Scott. Well, fuck. He was shirtless. She definitely hadn't been wrong about his body. His wasn't the chest of a man who spent endless hours in the gym or kept to a strict diet. Scott's muscles were heavy, densely packed. His shoulders were broad and rounded with thick cords of muscle. He looked like some kind of Scottish war hero or Greek god. Dina was definitely staring and she didn't give a fuck. She had been right about the hair too. A mass of dark brown--- almost black--- hair peppered his chest and trailed down his stomach to the V-shape of his hips.”

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“And he buried his cock inside her, right up to the hilt. Rosemary cried out, the pleasure of every inch of her filled by Ellis's size was almost too much. "Fuck." Ellis hissed and drove into her again hard, his free hand circling her clit. "You're taking me so beautifully," he praised her, thrusting deep, again and again, building Rosemary up until she was shaking, twisting, no longer in control of her limbs or her speech, crying out as she clenched and came. She heard Ellis whispering, "Like that, good girl, come for me," and felt the roughness of his stubble as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the breasts, and the wave brought her down. "You're so beautiful," Ellis said, looking down at Rosemary. Her brain warped at how he could say something so lovely, so endearingly romantic, yet continue to buck his hips, his cock driving into her. "So are you." She reached up to run a finger through his dark hair, tracing the silver scar on his forehead. She was learning what Ellis liked, and when she scratched the nape of his neck with her nails, he bucked suddenly, fucking her faster.”

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“You want me to watch a load of horror movies while we're staying in a big old house that may very well be haunted?" "Scared, are you?" "No, I don't believe in ghosts, or whatever else." Rosemary stepped closer, an almost imperceptible grin pulling up the corners of her mouth. "You should." "And if I watch them, will that finally make you believe I'm the right choice for your movie?" There she went, looking up at him with those piercing brown eyes again. Deep enough to drown in. "I'll consider it.”

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“She watched him with hungry eyes as he undressed, drinking in the salt-and-pepper hair of his chest and forearms, the deep V of muscle that led down to those powerful thighs. There was nothing Hollywood, nothing prim and polished about the man who stood half-naked before her now. He was built like a rugby player, tall and thick. Ellis scooped her up into a high kneeling position, and kissed her. It was decadent, kissing like this. And surprisingly rare.”

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“She'd give him what he needed. Her limbs were jelly as Ellis pivoted her on the bed, looping her thighs over his so she could ride him. "Good girl, ride it, ride my cock," he growled out, his hips punching to meet hers. She wound her arms around his neck, their panting breaths mingling, their bodies as close as possible. The only time Ellis's mouth left hers was when he bent down to suck her nipples, twirling his tongue around them until Rosemary felt the heat building in her core again. She was helpless to avoid it, this onslaught of pleasure. Her thoughts ebbed away, and she wasn't;t sure if she was moaning or whispering or screaming Ellis's name. Every touch rippled into a wave of pleasure, every vicious jerk of his cock inside her, every stroke of his fingers circling her clit had her floating away. It was heady, dizzying. She let herself go, knowing that she was safe, knowing that when this was all over, Ellis would bring her back down to Earth.”

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“Scott seemed to have similar ideas, because his hands had moved to cup Dina's butt cheeks, massaging them. He let out a sound that was partway between a moan and a vibration, as he slipped a finger, and then two, into Dina's soaking pussy. Dina bit her lip, but a small squeak came out. They were going to need to be a lot quieter if they were going to do this. "Such a pretty cunt," Scott growled, moving lower. And then his face was buried between her legs. He lapped at her wetness with his tongue, first soft and then harder, flicking her clit in such a way that it sent shudders through Dina. She never came this easily, this quickly. Yet now she could feel it building with each motion. Scott's fingers plunged in and out of her, while his mouth sucked, kissed and did all sorts of wondrous things. He was everywhere at once. Dina ran her fingers through his hair, relishing the feeling of having him between her thighs. Like he was meant to be there. The voices still spoke on the other side of the door, but they were a whole world away. Nothing else mattered now. "Come for me, good girl," Scott whispered, his mouth still moving against her. Scott knew what Dina wanted; he would give it to her. Dina wrapped her legs around Scott's upper back, resting them there. From the way Scott shifted himself, she knew he liked it. And--oh fuck-- she couldn't hold on anymore, not when he did that thing. The orgasm swept over her in delectable waves, bright spots of light dancing before her eyes.”

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“The roughness of his beard as he settled his face between her legs was excruciatingly delicious. Scott's tongue flicked her clit, sending a shudder through her. Before Dina could catch her breath, his tongue parted the wet folds of her pussy, pushing inside. His lips were everywhere, sucking against her wetness as if he wanted to taste all of her. Dina hooked her legs around his shoulders. "You taste so good," he groaned. Damn, this man knew exactly what he was doing. She opened for him, and Scott slid a finger into her smooth heat. She moaned, bucking her hips into him. He only fucked her harder with his fingers, curving his hand so that she could rock against him. "Good girl, just like that," he whispered, the heat of his breath on her cunt.”

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“"Please," she begged. Scott didn't need to ask twice. This time, three fingers plunged into her, two at the front and one teasing her at the back. His tongue lapped her up, circling her clit. Building, building. "You're so perfect... fuck, Scott, there, right there, right---" The orgasm shattered through Dina, an ecstatic ripple from deep inside that rove all over her body. Just as she came, Scott thrust his tongue deep into her and drank her all in. Her body was jelly, her limbs heavy and sensitive and deliciously warm all at the same time. She knew he would make her come again tonight. Scott's beard was all wet--- with her. It shouldn't have turned her on so much to see herself all over him, but it did. Scott groaned, palming his own cock, as if he couldn't stand another second. That wouldn't do. "Dina," he moaned as she crawled off the sofa, pushing him back and slotting herself between his legs so she could see his full erection up close. There was just... so much of it. Veined thick ridges, and dark hair at the base. She felt slick again just looking at it.”

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“Will you beg if I don't give it to you, Dina?" he whispered in her ear, sending a tremble right to her core. She would, she'd beg. With one rough tug he pulled her underwear off. "Yes," she hissed as he caressed the seam of her pussy, his fingers rubbing against her clit with just the right amount of friction. She wasn't sure how long she could last. When he plunged his fingers inside of her, Dina cried out. How could it feel so good? Had it ever felt this good with anyone else? "Tell me, Dina. Is this all for me?" Scott growled against her throat. "Yes, take it. Take me." She shuddered as his fingers pressed deeper, as she rode the palm of his hand. "So fucking wet," he groaned. The hard press of his cock against her ass cheeks nearly sent her into a frenzy as he continued to fuck her with his fingers. "Bend over for me so I can see you," he said, and Dina bent forward, resting her arms on the bed. Scott was gone for a split second, and as his fingers left her she already felt bereft. "Please, please," she moaned again, now on all fours. "Such a pretty cunt," Scott said, his voice breaking apart behind her. Then suddenly the emptiness ended, and Scott's mouth was there, licking, sucking at her pussy. Drinking her in. Dina let out a cry of pleasure as the tickle of Scott's beard brushed against her folds. He buried his face in her pussy, his tongue pushing inside her, flicking back and forth. And then his fingers were there as his mouth found her clit and sucked and kissed and then the orgasm broke through Dina, arching her back in pleasure, and she grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheets. Scott didn't let up; he continued to hold her there, burying his face deeper into her seam. "Good girl," he said, lifting Dina back up as if she weighed nothing. She was glad to have his hands on her. She wasn't sure she'd be able to use her legs at that moment. She faced Scott, looking up at him through half-closed eyes. The aftermath of the orgasm still rippled through her in electric shockwaves. But she still wanted more, needed more. She needed to be filled by him.”

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“I think the animals we love always love us back unconditionally. Forever." Rosemary was looking down at his feet, a soft smile on her face. "You really believe that?" She met his gaze. "I do." Just then, Rosemary crouched down and picked up a smooth, flat stone with a hole that went straight through it. "Huh." She held it up to her eye. "Don't tell me you have a secret rock collection, too?" he smirked. "No, I've just been looking for one like this. It feels... rather serendipitous.”

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“He was probably just sleep-deprived and insatiably horny and it was messing with his head. "Was your head feeling particularly full of something?" she asked innocently. He couldn't help himself any longer. He looked down at Dina and, fuck, she was there, stark naked. His brain short-circuited; it was too much. Moonlight bounced off her deep honeyed skin. "Fuck, Dina. Look at you." Scott's voice was hoarse. She stared up at him with molten eyes. She was perfect, fuck, she was perfect. Just as he'd imagined--- no, better than he'd imagined. The curve of her hips, the softness of her belly and the swell of her breasts, her nipples stiff. For him. His eyes feasted their way down her body, to her inner thighs. If he kissed her there, would she be wet for him? Her face was only hunger, only lust. He needed to have her.”

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“As soon as they entered the forest, Dina felt something stirring in her magic. Normally it lay dormant within her until she needed it for a spell. But now it was thrumming in her blood, reacting to this place. The trees were tall and thick, little sunlight made it to the forest floor, and the narrow pebbled path they walked along twisted out of sight ahead of them. "There's something here," she whispered to Immy. "Like magic?" "Yeah. Like, I don't know how to put it--- like this is an old and powerful place. Like the land is breathing." "Ooh, I'm going to write that phrase down for my next book," Immy said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. As Immy slowed down to make her note, Dina walked on, feeling the power of this ancient wood flooding through her. She felt as if she were walking into the mouth of a great, slumbering goddess. But it didn't scare her; it wasn't meant to. It was just nature, older than history, older than bone. The path curled around to the left, revealing a small cottage in the dappled light, dwarfed by the surrounding oaks. The lights were on inside, illuminating the ivy and wisteria vines that had twined themselves around the outer walls of the cottage. The windows were sashed in dark green wood, complete with window boxes filled with daisies. Daisies that Dina was sure shouldn't have been able to grow in such little light, but this wood seemed to play by its own rules.”

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“Need to taste you." Ellis lifted her up, his hands branding her thighs, and placed her down on the armchair, kneeling before her. He slicked kisses down her stomach, down the apex of her thighs. Rosemary let out a needy sob when he blew softly on the wet seam of her pussy, making her writhe. The way he looked up at her, her legs wound around him, was almost enough to make her come apart. His eyes didn't leave hers as he sucked on the pearl of her clit, his tongue driving into the heat of her cunt. Rosemary moaned, her fingers tangling in Ellis's hair, holding him in place. "Be a good girl and come on my tongue," he ordered, and with growing pace he fucked her with his fingers, too, arching inside her, pressing down on that perfect spot. Rosemary cried out, hoping that the closed door would muffle her voice as she bucked, seeing stars, riding Ellis's face and tongue until her orgasm abated.”

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“Pulling out a stick of lilac chalk, Dina added "besotted briouats" to the list, followed by "rosy-cheeked ghriba." The briouats--- melt-in-your-mouth filo pastry filled with honey and almonds--- were heavenly, even without the spell that made you feel like you'd been kissed on the forehead by a loved one. The ghriba, decadently soft sugar cookies with rosewater essence and lemon zest, were laced with a spell to warm up the fingers and toes.”

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“For spring and summer, Dina baked delicate and light pastries fragranced with rosewater, meskouta orange bundt cake, and delicate raspberry macarons. When strawberries were in season in early June, she made airy fraisier cake. For autumn and winter, Dina worked with heavier ingredients: thick, dark chocolate, cinnamon, cardamom, gingerbread, and pumpkin. As the days grew colder and the light dimmed earlier and earlier, people started to crave that feeling of warmth and comfort. And Dina would give that to them, even if only for a short while. One special bake for this season was a ginger and persimmon cake, yellowed with saffron strands, which Dina had bought on her last trip to Morocco, and fresh vanilla pods, their sweet scent so potent that it wafted across the café. This was in addition to all the regular pastries and cakes she had on offer, which were all recipes her mother had taught her to bake. The cake made with dark honey from the Atlas mountains was an all-time customer favorite. Dina had imbibed it with a very specific spell, a childhood memory of a time that she must have fallen asleep on a car ride home, and although she was a little too big to be carried, she remembered her father lifting her into his arms, her mother closing the car door softly so as not to wake her, then carrying her upstairs and tucking her into bed. When she'd been fashioning the spell for the first time, it had occurred to Dina that one day your parents put you down and they never picked you up again, and so she'd made the honey cake to recreate that feeling of childhood comfort. That sensation of someone taking the utmost care of you, holding you close, was a feeling that many in the rushing city of London didn't experience often. Sometimes she wondered if she was really in the business of café ownership, or if she was more of a fairy godmother in disguise. Undeniably, the magical pastries were great at keeping customers coming back for more, so that was a bonus on the businesswoman side of things.”

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“As Dina walked down the hall, the floorboards seamlessly transformed into blue and white tiles beneath her feet. She found herself standing in the heart of the house: a riad with a bubbling mosaic fountain, vines twisting up the walls and, above her, fuchsias blooming in terra-cotta pots and miniature date trees coiling around the pillars. It was more of a garden than a room, really. The ceiling was open to the night sky, burnished stars in an inky darkness. It wasn't the real sky of course, but the house's magic was powerful. Dina could even hear crickets chirping in the distance and the cinnamon scent of the earth in Khemisset, where her mother had grown up. She exhaled deeply, the feeling of being home sinking into her bones.”

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“Power twitched at her fingertips. It was Samhain after all, and her power swelled within her, aching to be used. The magic that came with Samhain was different from the other dates like Ostara or Beltane. It was wilder, and it came with its own shadow. And with the old woods at her back, and the rolling fields before her, she was all but breathing the magic in. It seeped from the soil into her body and wound its way like deep green tendrils into her heart.”

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“From the ceiling, lanterns in sage green and robin's egg blue hung like jewels, glowing gently. Flowers were gathered and tied to the seats that flanked the aisle: irises, bluebells, peonies. All of Immy's favorite blooms, some of which weren't even in season at this time of year. That had been a maid-of-honor task for Dina's magical expertise. Immy had asked for multicolored sunflowers and Dina had made them for her.”

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“Dina hummed to herself as she pulled out an empty jam jar from a busy cupboard. It was still labeled "Apricot Jam" from the batch her mum had made for her last year--- jam that tasted like bottled sunshine. There wasn't an exact science to the magic, but Dina often found that the best tea blends were ones she put into secondhand jars, ones that had been full of delicious, wonderful things. She clipped her curls out of her face and headed into the pantry. The walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with all manner of jars and boxes, all individually labeled in Dina's messy handwriting. She kept her spices together, along with other baking essentials like fish vanilla, cake flour, and a tin that was labeled "Eye of Newt" but actually contained nutmeg. Her tea selection had several shelves dedicated to it. Aside from the specialty blends she made for the shop, Dina kept a collection of tea and tisane ingredients, which she could mix into more personal blends at a moment's notice. Dina never felt more in her element as a kitchen witch than when she was looking through her pantry. Scott's tea blend needed to be something that encapsulated his energies yet also helped him in some way. A tea to drink in the middle of a long work day, Dina decided. She twirled a curl around her finger as she focused. She hadn't met any of his fellow curators yet, but from what Scott had told her they could be a bit of a handful. So the kind of tea that would help him get through a long meeting. Something to sharpen a tired mind. Dina knew just the thing for it. She scooped up several jars and laid them out on the counter before her. Black tea--- a full-bodied assam, cacao nibs, dried ginger and... it was missing something. Dina stepped back into the pantry and surveyed her shelves with her hands on her hips. She knew that this would need one more ingredient to be perfect for Scott. Lion's mane mushroom? Perhaps a little too earthy. Clove? Too heavy. It would overpower the other flavors. As her eyes skirted over the rows of jars, she spotted it. A small glass jar with a dark red powder in it. Dried beetroot! Perfect! Energizing yet slightly sweet and smooth, and it would make Scott look like he was drinking some kind of red-velvet-themed drink. Which was also his favorite cake flavor.”

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“She looped her fingers around his belt buckle, arching into him, grinding her pussy against the hard press of his erection. "Fuck," Ellis moaned. Open my belt, love." She did as she was told, relishing the command. Ellis pressed his forehead to hers, and they both looked down between the space between them, watching hungrily as Rosemary unbuckled Ellis's belt and unzipped his fly, pulling his cock free. It was heavy and thick in her hands, and Rosemary shivered with pleasure as she gave him a couple of short, firm strokes, Ellis biting his teeth down into her shoulder, punching his hips forwards automatically to meet her strokes. "You're so good for me, Rosemary," he whispered in her ear.”

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“Now," he huffed, the heat of his breath against her pussy near enough to drive her insane, "you're going to ride my face and you come." His hands gripped the backs of her thighs, cupping her ass firmly, bringing her down to him. "What if I crush you?" she asked. "You won't. There is nowhere else I would rather be right now, Rosemary." Ellis looked up at her from between her legs, his pupils blown wide, a grin on his face. Then he pulled her to him. The first suck of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure right through her. "Fuck," Rosemary hissed, as Ellis lapped at her centre, using his hands to move her, showing her how to grind against him. She was shy at first, but that soon faded, with every firm lick on her cunt, every kiss Ellis planted on her clit. He seemed to be taking just as much pleasure from this as she did, groaning as she writhed against his lips. She loved watching him lose control; she wanted to be the one to elicit this reaction from him. Rosemary let herself go, grinding into the heat of Ellis's mouth, seeing stars as the orgasm crashed through her.”

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Book:Love at First Fright
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“She had woken the house up with screams at 6 A.M. when she'd discovered that her mother's spell had changed her hair to a mermaid-blue color overnight. After the initial shock, the whole bright blue hair look had kind of grown on her, but she wasn't convinced it would be the best look for the wedding, so she had begun the painstaking process of charming it back to its original aubergine brown with flecks of purple.”

Blue HairHair Color SpellsWitch Spells
Book:Best Hex Ever
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“After a while Heebie's tentative tail swishes and cautious sniffs around her cheeks. Dina shifted to her side so Heebie could crawl into the curve of her lap, kneading Dina's belly with her sharp little claws. "What are you baking today, Madame Heebie?" Dina sniffed, tickling the cat under her chin as she kneaded. She liked to imagine Heebie in a little baker's hat and had once even tried knitting one--- but Heebie had hissed when Dina had tried to dress her in it. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, petting Heebie's soft black fur, but slowly the pain in her chest started to loosen, as if gentle fingers were prying open a stiff knot thread by thread. It wasn't gone, but it was a little quieter for now.”

CatComfortingKnead
Book:Best Hex Ever
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“Although she didn't have Dina's magical ability to imbibe food and drink with magical comfort, she still loved the process of baking. Measuring out the dry and wet ingredients, pouring it all in the baking tray, and crouching by the oven every now and again to make sure it was rising as expected. While she waited for the pie to bake, Rosemary noted a few ideas down for the early scenes of the script adaptation of Julia, which was coming along nicely. The room was filled with the scent of nutmeg, cinnamon, and caramelized pecans that she would use as a topping, as well as the buttery, fruity scent of the pie itself.”

PieBakingPersimmons
Book:Love at First Fright
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“Dina looked up and found herself in a quiet glade, though that was the only thing her eyes could make sense of. Sunlight, much brighter than the tepid dawn, beat down through a circle of sky above her, a deep summer blue. Her skin prickled with an awareness that magic was at work here, though she wasn't sure if it was a witch's or the woodland itself. The entire glade was impossibly carpeted with bluebells. It was November, they shouldn't have been in bloom. But there they were, a dense meadow of bluish-purple flowers swaying in the breeze before her eyes. Impossible. Magical.”

MagicNature WalkBluebellsGlade
Book:Best Hex Ever
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