Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Read online

  Beyond Magic

  Magical Love Series

  Lizzie T. Leaf

  Celtic Hearts Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Original Copyright 2011 by Lizzie T. Leaf

  Revised and re-edited 2016

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Published by Celtic Hearts Publishing

  Arvada, CO 80003

  Cover Art by Julie Nicholls

  Re-edited by Helen Hardt

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

  Botox: Allergan, Inc.

  Guinness: Guinness & Co.

  Harry Potter: JK Rowling and Warner Brothers

  WD-40: WD-40 Manufacturing Company

  What Not to Wear: Discovery Communications, LLC

  Other Books by Lizzie T. Leaf

  Educating Amber

  DEAD Awake

  Holiday Stories

  Making Christmas

  Forget the Mistletoe

  The Nutcracker Returns

  RELEASING 2017

  Beyond Magic

  Emerging Magic

  Banshee Magic (New)

  As well as several other re-releases

  Dedication

  Thank you to my family and friends for their encouragement. A special ‘thank you’ to my husband because without your love and support with your continued encouragement there have been times I would have thrown in the towel.

  Thank you to the fans that have reached out and asked about new books. Yes, I’m back to creating new works and in addition to your favorite characters there are new ones in the work. I love hearing from you and appreciate your taking the time to post reviews, even those that point out errors.

  1

  Beyond Magic

  PROLOGUE

  “Powers that be,

  I ask of thee,

  Show me the good,

  Show me the bad,

  Show me the ones,

  I am to make glad.”

  Hands, gnarled and wrinkled, old as time, waved back and forth over the crystal ball. Fog obscured what moments earlier had been clear glass. As the mist dissipated, the blurred image of a man appeared.

  The Cailleach gasped and widened her eyes. “Nae, it canna be.”

  The face came into focus, and she had no doubt about one of the lovers. No one else on any realm had hair that shade of gold streaked with fire.

  He ran a hand through the top of his unruly mop. Eyes blue as the sapphire DooNell wore around her neck stared directly at her for a moment before he turned to the computer screen on his desk.

  Still unsure of what to make of the vision, the old hag started another chant and waved her hands across the glass orb once more.

  “Powers that be,

  Show more to me,

  Show me the one fair,

  Who needs to be there.”

  Once again, the fog in the ball swirled and then lifted. The hag stared at the face of a female. Not the young girl she expected, but a woman seasoned by life. The female swept a heavy mane of rich auburn hair from her neck. A puzzled frown puckered her brow and her sherry-colored eyes darkened. The crone’s heart beat a rapid tattoo until she remembered she could not be seen by the part immortal who didn’t realize she had powers.

  A door slammed and a woman’s voice called, “Emma, where are you?”

  “In here, Cori. How was your day?”

  Emma pulled a piece of chocolate out of the bag by her hand and popped it in her mouth before she turned toward the door behind her. “Sure hope it was better than mine.”

  Through no request from the old crone, the crystal ball clouded over and the image and voices were gone. The mist cleared again and two faces, side by side, now stared from the glass.

  “So be it.” The Cailleach bowed her head in surrender to what the Powers required. She pulled in a deep breath before summoning the energy she needed for the task ahead.

  Eyes opened wide, arms outstretched, she set the magic in motion to bring two beings together.

  “Winds of the earth,

  Currents of the sea,

  Let these two,

  Find the love,

  They need to be.”

  Slumping back in her chair, the Cailleach sighed. She had done her part to set their discovery of love for each other into play. Now it was up to the universe.

  Far harder would be explaining to Oberon why she had interfered in the life of his only grandchild. Neither the Faerie King nor the entities involved from the other realms would be happy with her over this potential new love she’d just set into motion.

  “Ah, DooNell, lass. May be it, you be getting too old for this business of magical love?”

  She sighed and forced her weary bones from the chair. She had much to do if the will of the Powers could succeed, and she had been given the task to make sure it did. Too many worlds were involved to leave the uniting of Emma and Ian to chance.

  Chapter One

  Emma Grant caught movement out of the corner of her eye as a man swooped down on her. What was she? Road-kill? The vultures had started circling shortly after the bar filled to capacity.

  The placed reeked with more testosterone than a Super Bowl locker room. Unfortunately, the jocks who gravitated to her table crushed her dream of being irresistible to the opposite sex.

  Yeah, like I’ve ever lived under that delusion.

  Tonight’s pull, like that of so many others, had been something else—the empty chair across the table from her.

  “Say, if you’re not using this chair I’ll take it off your hands.” A chiseled-jaw blond flashed his pearly whites at her.

  Fed up with the assumption the seat was empty because she wouldn’t be waiting for someone, Emma snarled. “Move it an inch and I’ll break your arm.”

  “Sheesh. Keep the damn thing.”

  “I intend to, thank you very much.”

  He stalked away, and a small sense of satisfaction lightened her mood. That quickly dissipated with the scraping sound of the contested chair. Ready for another battle, she whirled around to face the latest “God’s gift to women,” only to discover the real reason she’d had to battle most of the men in the bar.

  “It’s about damned time you got here.” Emma didn’t attempt to hide her irritation as her roommate and best friend flopped into the chair across the table from her.

  “Bite me.” Cordellia Sparks patted her face with the tissue she pulled from her purse and flashed a snarky grin. “I had to cruise around forever to find a place to park that wasn’t blocks away. It’s hot as hell out there.”

  “Bit me” was the bubbly blonde’s favorite expression when something annoyed her.

  “No shit, Sherlock. I spent the whole afternoon out in the heat, not on my ass in a nice air conditioned office like some people I could name.” Emma glared at the woman across the table, taking fiendish delight in the normally bouncy blond curls now plastered to her friend’s flushed face.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, don’t give me ‘the look.’” Cori finger-combed her hair in an effort to unglue it from her head. “You’d think after all these years you would realize it doesn’t work on me.” A shake of the damp curls, and they bounced back into their normal ringlets.

  Annoyed yes, but still Emma was glad to see her si
ster of the heart finally place her rump into the chair she’d been fighting to keep empty until the persistently late woman arrived. Their first meeting in college had resulted in a connection stronger than the one she had with her real sister, which said a lot since Cori was a Yankee from Gettysburg, of all places. But Cori’s habitual tardiness drove Emma crazy and had created several heated discussions through the years.

  “I didn’t give you ‘the look’ as you call it. I simply pointed out that you’re not the only one here who feels the heat.”

  Cori’s cocked eyebrow spurred Emma to share more of her thoughts.

  “I’m the one who traipsed around the city all afternoon on a walking tour for a group of testosterone-pumped teenage boys. They had more interest in ogling any female under thirty who passed than in my riveting history of Denver. By the way, why was it so important to meet at this meat market? Why couldn’t we go home to our nice air conditioned house?”

  Triple digit temperatures and the unusual humidity for Denver put Emma in a foul mood. Summer was one of the reasons she’d left South Carolina after graduating from college. Denver offered a less humid option, but this year the thermometer and the blabber mouth weather people wouldn’t let her escape the dog days of summer, even in the Mile High City. For cripes’ sake, it was only the end of May. She couldn’t wait for July and August.

  “Take a look around you.” Cori fluffed her short do again, which only served to give more perk to curls Emma wouldn’t achieve in a lifetime. “What do you see?”

  “A blond bubble head?”

  And as always, a well-dressed one. Too bad she’s four inches shorter than I am. I really like those pants. Being five-feet-ten eliminates most of her wardrobe for me.

  She didn’t need cute outfits to impress the high-class travel clientele who walked through the door of her business the way Cori did. Her current position of tour guide required comfortable shoes and loose clothes for the miles of walking the job entailed.

  The remark earned Emma a scowl, so she tried again.

  “A crowded room?”

  Cori leaned across the table. “Right, and what gender are most of the bodies in here? Male, darling. Male! This is the number one happening spot in our deliciously upscale Cherry Creek neighborhood.” She sat back with a smug smile.

  “Fat lot of good it does us. Look harder, blond one. Most of the guys in here are young enough to be our sons.”

  “Bite your tongue, my cynical friend. Younger brothers is more accurate if you have to consider something as mundane as age.” Cori sat back in her chair and surveyed the room. “Hey, there’s an older guy at the bar.”

  Emma sighed. “Cori, neither of us is desperate enough to start dating guys old enough to be our grandfather.”

  “True.” Cori smiled at the waitress who finally showed up to take their order. “Cosmopolitan for me please, and a glass of whatever sugary wine my grumpy friend is slurping, though God only knows how she can drink that crap.” She flashed a grin at Emma and winked. “Anyway, back to our subject.”

  Subject? What subject? Their conversation since Cori’s arrival had been more like follow the bouncing ball.

  “And that would be?”

  “Men—or rather our lack of them. Here we are almost forty and alone.”

  “Speak for yourself ancient one. I’m only thirty-eight.”

  A diabolical smirk curved Cori’s lips. “Soon to be thirty-nine, if I recall correctly. Sort of like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun as that new decade creeps up on you, isn’t it?”

  Emma rewarded her roommate’s evil grin with a light smack on the shoulder. “I can’t believe I call you a friend.”

  “You love me and you know it. So, as I tried to tell you, I feel the tick of my biological clock.”

  “Tick. Hell, mine’s been booming for years. Big Ben sounds soft by comparison, but I do believe my main spring has sprung.” Emma drew circles with her finger on the table in front of her, unable to meet her friend’s eyes.

  “Sprung? Tell. What the hell do you mean by that remark?”

  “I mean…” Emma paused to clear her throat, reluctant to say the words. “I think I had a hot flash today.”

  “No!” Cori’s jaw dropped. “I hope you don’t get as bitchy as my mother did when she went through the change. I love the woman dearly, but for a while there she turned into Super Bitch.”

  “I’m not in the change yet. Haven’t you heard of peri-menopause? I said I think I may have had a hot flash. Then again, I may have over heated a little. After all, I was wearing my feet to nubs in one hundred-plus degree heat in an effort to enlighten a group of teenagers on the history of our fair city. Between their attitude and the weather, who knows? ” Emma regretted bringing up the subject. All I know is one minute I was hot and the next, really hot.”

  “Did you feel your heart racing like you’d just run a hundred yard dash?”

  “Well, maybe not that hard, but it did beat a little fast.”

  “Well, sounds like the start of menopause if you ask me.” A smug little smiled paired with the twinkle in Cori’s eyes. “Either that or a hot guy walked by, and I like the hot guy theory better.”

  “Nobody asked you. I shared my day when you asked about it.” She hated it when Cori used the I-told-you-so tone.

  The waitress plopped their drinks on the table.

  Cori rummaged in her purse and fished out some money. “See, this is another confirmation of what I’ve been trying to tell you. We both need a man.”

  “And how do you propose we accomplish instantly what we’ve not achieved in thirty-plus years in the love department?” Emma raised her eyebrow. “I read something the other day. Women over thirty-five have a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than getting married.”

  Cori slid several bills to the waitress. The tip for the harried looking woman must have been a good one given the grateful smile she flashed. Maybe Emma should have offered to pay for her drink, but she’d get the next round. Besides, Cori irked her with all this talk about men, a subject she tried not to think about these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten laid. Better to focus on her new career as a tour director and travel guide than non-existent sex.

  Cori sipped her drink and nodded. Chewing on her bottom lip she stared at Emma for a moment. “Maybe we should try a magical spell or two.”

  Emma didn’t try to contain a burst of laugher. “Right. And while we’re at it, let’s go big and conjure up a hot god.” The comment earned a glare from her friend.

  Pushing back a mop of curls, Cori leaned forward. “Well, since things are serious for both of us in the love department—as in seriously not having any—maybe I should share something about me you don’t know.”

  “Which is?” This should be good. She knew most of Cori’s vanilla history. Raised in the perfect family with parents who adored her and a mother she still called weekly—well, the whole thing was enough to put most people to sleep. But come to think of it, Cori’s mom could be pretty demanding at times, so maybe there was discord in paradise.

  “I’m a witch.”

  “Yeah, I know you’re a bitch.”

  “No stupid.” Cori puffed out her cheeks. “Witch! As in itch with a ‘w’ in front of it.”

  “A what?” Honestly, next the ditz would tell her about the hex she put on their nosey neighbors, which wasn’t a bad idea. Better yet, if she was a witch, why in hell hadn’t she conjured up some men for them before now?

  Witch my ass. The woman still believes Prince Charming will ride up and sweep her away someday.

  “I don’t recall stuttering. I said I’m a witch.”

  Emma couldn’t decide whether to laugh or throttle the woman sitting across from her. “Cori, I love you like a sister, but sometimes you’re just plain full of crap. Like right now. Next you’ll tell me you ride a broom across the moon on Halloween.”

  Cori shot her a drop dead glare and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp
, signaling the passing waitress for another. “Well, shit-a-brick. You don’t have to act so high and mighty. There are things about me you don’t know, and this happens to be one of them.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Emma repressed a grin. The booze had started to hit her friend when the shit-a-brick comments began to flow.

  Better think about food or getting home before she digresses into her other favorite drunken fowl abuse verbiage.

  “Yeah, and how did this magic happen? Excuse me, I mean when did you decide to become a witch?”

  Cori was a cheap drunk, and the second Cosmo setting in front of her would make getting her home a fun task. Obligation prompted Emma to pay for the drink. Her tip must have been small compared to the earlier one from her roommate, because Emma only received a slight smile from the server.

  She turned her attention back to her friend. “Maybe we should order an appetizer.” She definitely needed to get food into Cori.

  Cori waved away Emma’s suggestion. “Heredity. You don’t decide to become a witch with real powers when it’s in your bloodline. One only needs to work to develop their natural powers.”

  The little burp emitted at the end of this declaration took away from the intended seriousness of the matter Emma knew the statement meant to convey.

  “I know both your parents, and your mother doesn’t come across as a witch. Hell, most of the time she’s not even a bitch. And when your father was alive, he was one of the sweetest guys ever.” Emma still mourned his loss along with Cori.

  “You don’t know the full story.” Cori waved her hands and bumped her glass. Part of her drink sloshed on the table and onto her fingers. “Fuck-a-duck. Oh well, waste not, want not.” She licked the liquid from her hand.