In a recent survey of my newsletter subscribers, you guys told me you wanted to know what happened after “happily ever after.” Here’s a short flash fiction of one couple from my Blood Moon Rising series. Enjoy. 😉
*WARNING: Possible spoilers if you haven’t read the full Blood Moon Rising series. You can start with Book 1, Fever, here. (Free read!)
Verika stared at the little pink plus sign on the pee stick. Or miracle stick. Or scare-the-hell-out-of-you stick, whatever it was called. Her feelings about it were fluctuating so fast it was hard to keep up.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
She was pregnant.
Elation filled her, along with a trickle of fear. Holy crap, she was going to be a mom. She and Eli… they were going to be parents.
Her mouth stretched into a wide grin. She couldn’t stop staring at the stick, at the little pink plus that promised joy and hope.
Finally, a family. They were going to have their own family. There would be gameboard nights, cookie baking, going to the playground, the movies. Nights spent helping her son or daughter with their homework. Teaching them about the Underworld and all the joy of magic. If they inherited any.
A hard lump formed in her throat, and the master bathroom of their little cottage suddenly felt colder.
What if their baby inherited the Dark Gift?
You can control your powers, she reminded herself. You can teach them to do the same. Her boss, Sebastian Hex, had been crucial in strengthening her magical prowess. Besides, she was getting nervous about nothing. There was a fifty-fifty chance their child wouldn’t inherit a drop of magic, seeing as she was the only magic-bearer.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we have to, girl,” she murmured to herself, and stood. Elijah would be home soon. She’d picked out something skimpy to wear to surprise him at the door. Something that left little to the imagination and would probably be on the floor or ripped in half within seconds once he laid eyes on her.
She smiled to herself as she washed up. This was the least she could do, considering it was the first time she’d gotten to see him in three days. Business trips sucked, but they were a necessary evil for both of their lines of work. Plus, they got to meet new people and travel to interesting places. It wasn’t all bad, she supposed.
Still, she’d missed him like hell. And the phone sex, while a challenge in kinkery, could never satisfy her sexual itch.
After taking a shower, belting out the soundtrack to Wicked the entire time in her best off-key soprano, she toweled off and opted to leave her hair “sexily wet”. Running her fingers through her long red tresses and towel-drying it, she slipped into her royal-purple negligee. She’d conjured it herself, out of a scrape of purple lace. Joining a local coven and attending magic seminars every week had done wonders for her magic repertoire. She’d attended the meetings and lectures for work, yes, but also to feed her inner nerd. She did love her some magic. And her growing personal grimoire made her do a happy dance.
She slipped on a plum-colored silk bathrobe she’d snapped up from Victoria Secret’s for a steal–twenty bucks, clearance–and looked over her appearance in the mirror.
Hmmm… the negligee all but blended into the robe. Should’ve thought that through.
Delicate nails pat-pat-patted across the bathroom floor, and she felt something wet lick her hand.
“Hey, Ginger,” cooed Verika, unable to resist petting their adorable eight-month-old Irish Setter. “What do you think? Does Mommy’s negligee need a little more ‘va-va-voom’?”
Ginger’s tongue lolled out in a very doggy smile.
“I thought so, too.” Wriggling her fingers, she pointed at herself in the mirror. “Floral de santum–oh… oh, my…” Feeling a wave of nausea coming on, she rushed through the phrase, “Floral de santum miadum onitobleeh!” She flubbed the last word, lunging for the toilet at the last second and puking her guts up.
There was a flash of purple, a yip of surprise from Ginger.
Clutching the porcelain lid, Verika wearily turned around.
Ginger was purple, the same shade as her negliee.
Speaking of negligees… Verika looked down. The negligee was now white, the color leeched from it.
Fantastic. She’d magically dyed her dog purple. “Oh, boy,” she said, snagging a tissue square to dab at her mouth.
Ginger, not the least bit bothered by her unusual new color, began sniffing around and rooting through the trash.
Verika looked up. Elijah, wearing a sexy black leather jacket, a dark gray T-shirt, and jeans, stood in the doorway of their bathroom.
He frowned, sniffed the air. “Are you sick? Need me to get you something?”
Crap. Blushing, Verika flushed the toilet and stood. “I’m not sick, per se. Not really.”
His eyes shot to Ginger, back to her. “Why is the dog purple?”
“Hey, whatcha got there, girl?” Elijah said, kneeling as Ginger brought him something.
Verika’s heart skipped a beat as Elijah took the pee stick out of her mouth and went still. His eyes widened, his breath stopped a beat.
“Well, say something,” Verika said quietly.
He blinked hard, stared. Blinked again. Looked up at her. “Is this real? This reading?” He held up the stick.
She pressed her lips together, nodded.
He looked at the toilet, and understanding and warmth bloomed in his eyes. He rose and walked over to her. “You’re telling me my mate is pregnant?”
“Uh huh. Are you mad?”
“Mad? Why on earth would I be mad? I could kiss you, I’m so damn happy.”
She pressed a finger to his mouth. “Hold that thought. Before we have hot celebratory sex, I need to brush my teeth.”
Elijah stared at the stick while she brushed. The smile never left his face. “Wow. We’re going to be parents.”
She rinsed and turned. “Unbelievable, right?”
“Incredible is more like it.” Tossing the stick, he washed his hands, toweled them off. Scooping her up in his arms and making her yelp in the process, he carried her into the bedroom. “I’m taking you out to dinner. And a movie. And whatever the hell you want.”
“After hot sex?”
“Hell, yes, after hot sex. And maybe after we undye our dog. The purple clashes with our décor.”
Giggling, she gave him a light slap on the arm as he laid her against the sheets–and tore off that plain white negligee with his teeth.