Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I don’t know Caden well. But despite his disinterest in the contents of my knickers, I’m convinced he’s not gay.
“Or more evolved than a hormonal ape,” Caden drawls.
“Stop being rude,” I snap at Jamie. “This is a birthday party, not a brawl.”
“Tell us your wish,” Leslie from marketing suggests to smooth the tension.
A romping shag with Caden, but since that isn’t likely to happen…lead reporter has a lovely ring to it. Sure, I work for an online paranormal tabloid that few take seriously, but it pays the bills. Soon, I hope to make a name for myself writing stories that traditional journalists eschew. And people everywhere will recognize me once I find proof of the supernatural. I know it’s out there…
Until then, I’ll write about the otherworldly things my parents have utterly rejected. Besides, Out of this Realm is a scream to work at. Where else could I collect a salary for chasing Ripper ghosts and conducting interviews at the London Psychic Centre?
My personal life, on the other hand? Disaster. How does one manage to become a sad spinster at twenty-eight? The endless string of dates from my uni days have been replaced with deadlines and staff meetings. My last boyfriend… His pretty face failed to compensate for the fact he had the IQ of a dead houseplant and the emotional range of a pea. Perhaps I should wish for a man.
For Caden.
Yummy waves of dark hair, delicious blue eyes, a body that belongs in magazines, and a reserved nature that makes me itch to know the man beneath. It’s a shame the attraction doesn’t run both ways.
“She can’t tell us or her wish won’t come true,” Holly, my editor, points out and gestures to the table loaded with brightly wrapped boxes and decorative bags. “Now stop fannying about, Syd, and open your gifts.”
Aquarius points animatedly to a bright yellow box with a kitschy floral ribbon. Before she can thrust it into my hands, I tear into another. I adore my assistant, but she has a penchant for gifts that often induce snickers and shock. I’d rather open hers in private.
Sighing, Aquarius pours cups of her infamous home-blended herbal tea as I plow through all the brightly wrapped boxes. A pair of delicate silver earrings, a relaxing massage at a local day spa, and a sumptuous Italian silk scarf trimmed in blue crushed velvet. Jamie gives me a gift certificate for a large pizza and Netflix discount code—both of which he’ll likely insist I share. Prat.
Caden hands me a somewhat impersonal card and a small box of gourmet chocolates. It’s lovely…though I would have preferred an indecent proposal. It’s been an age since I’ve had a shag, much less a decent one. And I’ve never been as attracted to a man as I am to him.
“Thank you, everyone. I’m genuinely touched. You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble,” I tell the group.
“We want to show you how much we appreciate you,” Leslie insists.
Wrapping paper and greeting cards litter the table when only the package from Aquarius remains. My assistant practically vibrates with excitement. “Last one. Open this! It’s from me.”
“You baked and organized and still got me something? You shouldn’t have.”
With the butterfly tattoo on her shoulder and her asymmetrical mesh-and-lace blouse that looks like something from Stevie Nicks’s wardrobe, Aquarius doesn’t dress like a typical assistant. She refuses to make coffee—too full of chemicals and caffeine. And she despises technology. But Aquarius has a knack for stories, for juggling my hectic schedule, fielding the editor-in-chief, soothing paranoid readers, and keeping internal strife at a minimum.
Despite being total opposites, she and I have become good friends.
“Are you two going to start snogging, or are you opening that?” Jamie hollers.
After tossing another glare his way, I focus on the gift. It’s square and slightly heavy, wrapped in yellow linen. I study the loud ribbon, wondering whether the present is safe to unwrap in polite company.
“Go on!” Aquarius insists excitedly.
An odd anticipation revs through me as I pluck at the silky bow and tear through the wrapping to reveal…an old book. The red leather cover is framed in a gilt filagree design and some sort of scripty-looking symbol. I try to hide my confusion, but I’ve been told I should never play poker.
Aquarius laughs. “Read the card inside.”
With a shrug, I open the little volume and flip through the empty, ever-so-slightly yellowed pages. Caden elbows in and gives the book an eye-popping stare as I thumb my way to the middle and locate a white square of card stock emblazoned with a fancy script that reads:
On these magical pages, spill your sensual fantasy, soon, your wishes will become reality.
A kiss, a touch, a whisper-whatever you most desire, in the arms of your lover, pleasure will burn hotter than fire.
Wait. Aquarius believes this unassuming little book makes sexual fantasies come true? I would love that, and I believe in magic, but this little volume in my hands?