Your Magic or Mine? (2 page)

—
Maura, Coffee Time Romance

Francie and Clay are two strong characters. The author brings them to life with her depiction of their growing relationship. Francie doesn’t believe what Clay is telling her, and it becomes a fun-filled struggle for him to convince her. She is a great heroine —one this reader thoroughly enjoyed. She shows signs of stubbornness and vulnerability. Clay is a man who takes it for granted that his soul mate will fall into his arms. He is shocked by Francie’s reaction, and at times, his responses to her are quite humorous. This couple was great together, and the chemistry was just right. Not only does the author give us a lead couple to love, the people surrounding them are winners too, from Daria to Tamara. They all add to the richness of the story. Run, don’t walk to get your copy of DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? It is a fun and fast read —perfect for the beach or in your favorite spot for reading!

—
Susan T, Fallen Angel Reviews

“DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? is a light romance, a good choice with which to while away an afternoon.”

—
Lisa Baca, Romance Reviews Today

“Well written with a great plot, believable characters and snappy dialogue, Ann Macela has yet another winner on her hands. Be forewarned though, it is almost impossible to set DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? aside for anything so be sure to have a day blocked out to do nothing but enjoy yourself.

This reviewer recommends DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? to any readers who enjoy contemporary paranormal romances. And while you are picking up DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? from your local book store be sure to pick up the first book in the series THE OLDEST KIND OF MAGIC and block out an entire weekend for yourself.”

—
Shaiha, Love Romances and More

“The sexual tension between Clay and Francie is HOT! … The pages sizzle with heat. The story is imaginative, fresh, and appealing…. The book has a surprise ending that will leave the reader cheering.”

—
Fantasy Romance

Accolades for
YOUR MAGIC OR MINE by Ann Macela:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

Thanks to my critique group plus Paula who read every word of this story and made wonderful suggestions for making it better.

Thanks to Drs. Charles Bacon, Tom Mabry, and Maureen Bonness. Dr. Bacon for his help with theoretical math concepts and Drs. Mabry and Bonness for their aid on the botany side. Any mistakes in my story are my own.

If I’ve taken liberties with any department or person at the University of Texas, I apologize.

I also have rearranged the building layout on Nob Hill in San Francisco and placed my HeatherRidge Hotel and Condominium on Sacramento between Mason and Jones, thereby displacing existing buildings. I hope the residents will forgive me for evicting them, even fictionally.

Thanks especially to Helen Rosburg and Medallion Press for taking a chance on me and my practitioners.

And, of course, to my own “Blue Mage,” who puts some true magic in my life, Paul.

Him:

He ran. As fast as he could, through the tangled jungle, through the pouring rain. Chains of writhing vines reached for him as he sped by—or was the supple branch that brushed his arm a snake looking for its dinner? Booms of thunder so loud they shook the ground rolled down from the treetops. He almost stumbled on a fallen limb, but kept his balance by sheer force of will.

He halted his headlong dash and took shelter for a moment under a giant leaf. Thick bushes, huge, vine-covered tree branches, strange spiky or large-leafed plants pressed in on all sides.
Green
saturated the very air. The warm humidity, the earthy smell, the confining plant growths all increased his sense of claustrophobia and alienation. He definitely did not belong here. He chose another direction and ran again.

He had to get away, get out. But, where was he? And which direction was out? He’d been running forever, he knew that much. The jungle had no end.

Or, was he running in a circle?

With a final bone-deep crash of thunder, the rain stopped, and he did, too. Only dripping water and his own fast breathing broke the silence. He was alone—exactly as he preferred.

Why then was he so forlorn?

Her:

She turned in a slow circle on the flat, sterile plain. Not a bit of vegetation, green or otherwise, in sight. Only brownish-gray earth and rocks. A true wasteland.

Wait. What was that? A rainbow, like light through a prism, sparkled on the horizon. She ran straight at it.

A tall building rose before her. A glass structure. A greenhouse! With lush, growing plants stretching up to the light. Exactly what she wanted, needed. Inside, she’d be safe, in her natural habitat.

She circled the building. No door. No operable windows. How was she supposed to get inside?

She beat her hands on the glass. It didn’t move. She threw rocks. They didn’t even scratch the shiny surface.

Was there anybody around to help her? She cupped her hands around her eyes, leaned on the glass, shifted to see around this fern and that tree. No one. She revolved in a circle again, searching the dusty plain.

She was totally alone—exactly as she did not want to be. And as, she knew in her bones, she was not supposed to be. A wave of loneliness almost brought her to her knees.

Him:

He started walking again. What else could he do except keep going? He stumbled upon a gravel path, followed it through the shrubbery. In a few spots, the canopy of trees left little light to see by, and only the crunch of his feet on the small stones kept him on the trail.

The path existed, therefore someone—or something—had to have made it. Surely it led somewhere. To another person, to civilization.

He shook his head. The isolation was getting to him. He felt … almost lonely.

Ridiculous. He’d never been lonely in his life. Had he? No. Was he sure? Yes. Then why this niggling sense of doubt, this vague sense of needing someone?

What was that noise? It came from around the next bend. It sounded like … no, it couldn’t be in this jungle … it sounded exactly like breaking glass.

Her:

She was beyond frustration. She’d tried every method she could think of, but she still couldn’t get into the stupid greenhouse. She was thirsty, too, made even more so by the sight of water running down the glass inside.

Think. What hadn’t she tried? She moved to a place where the plants didn’t press against the windows and looked inside again. Nothing except foliage. No evidence of human or animal life. She could almost cry. With a sigh of despair, she leaned against the glass wall…

And fell in.

Him:

He came around a bend in the trail into a clearing, and there she was, picking herself up off the ground. A woman. A naked woman. A naked, gorgeous woman with long, dark, curling hair.

She glanced around curiously, but didn’t seem to be afraid or uncomfortable in these surroundings. In fact, she was smiling when she reached out to stroke a large elephant-ear leaf. When he walked forward, she turned to face him.

It wasn’t easy, though he did manage to pull his gaze from her curves to her eyes—the greenest he’d ever seen. He was immediately ensnared, enthralled, enchanted.

No. His mind reasserted itself. He had to get out of here. He didn’t want or need anyone. He had no time for a woman—even this one.

His body, however, had an opposite opinion and tightened. Hardened. Heated. Swelled.

Her:

Oh, thank heavens, she wasn’t alone. A man was here. She had someone to talk with, to share the wonders to be found in the jungle.

He stopped about three feet away. A cloud blotted out the sun, the darkness under the trees increased, and she couldn’t see his eyes. She cast a lightball and brought its power and light up through blue to indigo with violet streaks, her highest level.

How unusual. His eyes were light blue with a charcoal rim around the iris. As she watched, his irises expanded until only a thin line of blue remained. She’d thought light blue eyes were cold, icy, aloof. His, however, were more than warm, and her body reacted to their heat. She tingled all over, and her center hummed.

She glanced down at herself. She had no clothes on, but she wasn’t bothered by her nudity. It felt natural somehow. She looked into his eyes again. He was staring at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. She asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to get out,” he replied.

“Why? It’s the perfect place to be.”

“I hate it. Do you know how to get out?”

He hated it? Her Eden? If he felt that way, better for everyone that he leave. “You only have to …” She realized that she didn’t know. She wasn’t even sure how she had gotten in.

“I’ve been following the path,” he said.

She told him what seemed plausible and felt right. “You’ll never get out doing that. You have to make the extra effort.”

Him:

Extra effort? What did she think he’d been doing, going out for a stroll? He managed to jerk his eyes away from her and look around. Oh, great. The path had disappeared.

A distant rumble of thunder and a gust of wind caused him to shiver. The breeze brought with it a subtle menace. A dangerous evil was coming, he was certain. “We have to leave.”

“Nonsense. We’re safe here.”

Crazy woman. No, they weren’t. He couldn’t abandon her, however. He had to protect her, no matter what her opinion.