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  Sassy {B}Witch

  Bitchin’ Coven Book 1

  Madeline Fay

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Afterword

  Author Note

  About the Author

  Copyright @ 2019 Madeline Fay

  Sassy W Bitch

  Bitchin Coven Book 1

  Reverse Harem

  First publication: Live release October 21st 2019

  Editing by

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Madeline Fay

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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

  This is a Halloween Reverse Harem short story.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedicated to Ashleigh my PA who is sassy and the best bitch in town! Love that woman

  Chapter One

  My little car's faint headlights illuminate the street sign Hollow, my old childhood stomping grounds. I turn down the stereo to listen to the buzzards through my cracked driver’s side window, it’s so quiet compared to the city. Drawing in a deep breath; the smell of magnolias fills my senses and brings back so many memories. Some forgotten and others, I wish I could forget. I take it all in, I haven’t been back here for five years now. White, enormous plantations line the street, one after the other until you get to the dead-end of the road.

  Lo and behold Grams’ house. It’s good to be home.

  A broad smile spreads across my lips as I pull onto the dirt driveway with overgrown weeds that lead up to the one and only haunted house in the state of Louisiana. Worn, brown boards hang off the side of the house, giving the home a look as if it’s abandoned. Just the way Grams likes it.

  The shutters flap in the non-existing wind, causing a creepy creaking every few minutes as they slam against the house. Jack-o’-lanterns line along the wrap-around porch, spiders hang in thick webs around the front of the house, and no doubt, the bats still live in the attic. Looking up at the two-story house, candles flicker in the windowsills—casting shadows—making it appear that someone is standing in the window. The moonlight is bright tonight, forming an eerie essence around the woods framed behind the house. Turning off the ignition, the sound of the porch screen door slapping against the frame startles me, only when I look over, it’s just Shade. Grams’ black cat stares at me with its large orange eyes as he plants his furry butt on the porch as if he’s been expecting me.

  Sneaky little shit. Always popping in and out, moving with the night, and blending in with the shadows.

  Taking a deep breath, I climb out of the car, willing myself not to look over at the plantation to my right. I’m here for Grams, not the twins who I grew up with right next door.

  Don’t look, don’t you dare peek at that bedroom window you used to sneak through late at night when everyone was asleep.

  Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach and I realize I’m being stupid and over-dramatic as I walk up the steps. They probably don’t even live there anymore; most people end up moving far away from Grams’ house as fast as they can once they realize she’s a bit nutty. Also, I’m probably a forgotten thought like the wind, it’s been many years. It’s not like I remember every bit of detail about them, nope. Not at all. I’m a liar to my whole freaking heart.

  I definitely don’t remember every single whispered word or the hidden touches that made my heart beat to the same rhythm as that hand that caressed me. I don’t recall loving someone so much that you feel your whole world being ripped apart when they shatter you into tiny pieces.

  No, I don’t recall any of that.

  Practically skipping up the wooden steps, I dodge the planks with booby traps in them. One wrong step and hello Splinterville. Grams says it scares away the salespeople and debt-collectors. I honestly think looking at the house alone can scare just about anyone away. I swear there is a dark cloud hanging over the Shadow household. Taking a deep cleansing breath of sage that fills the air around the house, I grab the door handle and push with a shoulder shove until I almost fall through the threshold once open. The outside is a complete rouse to deceive the townies, but the inside is completely the opposite. I quietly shut the red front door behind me and take a look around at Granny’s home.

  Luxurious materials of a multitude of colors decorate the rooms, vibrant to the witch’s eye. Purple drapery hangs in each doorway with gold tassels, giving the feel of something mystical on the other side. The living room has red velvet couches with royal blue throw pillows that look so inviting to fall asleep on with the fireplace giving off a warm glow. I stifle a yawn as I make my way to the kitchen, where I know Grams will be brewing up a storm of potions—and hopefully cookies.

  My nose guides me to the back of the house where scents of baked goods fill the air. Pushing the drapery aside, I stop to take in my best memories here. The moonlight shines through the row of windows that overlook the backyard to the witch’s circle in the distance.

  So many naked dancing rituals were held there, I think to myself with a fond smile.

  Granny taught me my first love potion in this very kitchen on that faded wooden table she’s currently sitting at while sipping her evening tea. No doubt, with a splash of bourbon to ‘warm her old bones’ as she likes to say. She’s aged a bit. I’ve talked to her almost every day for five years straight, but this last week she didn’t call. I found that unusual and started to worry, it was all for nothing. My Granny is the most conniving, evilest little witch alive. I kept calling her until she picked up the phone, and she only said two words to me, “Come home.” Before the line went dead.

  I haven’t slept in two damn days, feel like I haven’t showered in ages, and yet, here the little devil sits, with a small smile and slurping from her teacup. I give her my best glare, and she slams the cup down dramatically.

  “Luna Shadow! You wipe that look off your face right now before I turn you into a toad. You ungrateful child, I swear you have no respect for the elderly. Now come and give your Granny a hug!” Her voice was like whip snapping until it turned sugar sweet as she bounces out of her chair and hobbles over to embrace me in a tight hug.

  I breathe in her peppermint smell and finally feel at home for the first time in five years. I blink the tears away just as she pulls away and holds me at arm’s length.

  “You haven’t been eating, have you? Want a cookie? Did you finally find a husband? You know I’m not getting any younger and you, my dear… your clock is ticking. I want grandbabies. Are you still practicing magic because that’s the reason I need you here for, among other things, but we can get into that later. The Blue hair suits you by the way, you remind me so much of me when I was younger.” She chatters on as she shoves me into a chair and places a steaming mug in front of me. God, she’s strong for a small little old lady, and I’ll never say that to her face. She hates the word old.

  She has my favorite mug in front of me, hot to the touch. It’s like she knew I wa
s going to be here any minute, nothing gets by Granny, and I mean nothing. She knew when I lost my virginity to Titus by just the look on my face, but I don’t think she knew why I ran that night five years ago, or at least she might have had a knowing. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I answer her because she won’t stop harassing me until I do.

  “I’ve been eating just fine; all that Chicago food is going straight to my gut. No, I haven’t found a husband, to be honest, Granny… I want to just focus on my career and not men. They are all assholes. Why exactly am I here? What does magic have to do with anything? Where are these said cookies?” I grumble into my tea mug and nearly choke when I realize it’s warts herbs. Taste nasty, but makes you calm and happy. I think Grans needs more of this stuff, I think to myself as I lean forward to pour her more. Oh! Found the cookies, and I start plucking them off the plate to shove in my mouth like a starved animal. So good.

  She whips out a flask from God knows where and dumps the rest in her tea. She sips it while staring at me with an arched brow like she dares me to judge her. I would never. I flash her smirk as I pull my very own flask of whiskey out of my purse and dump the contents into my own glass. I hold my mug up, and she clinks hers against mine as we sit in silence. I missed this, being here with my cranky, crazy, lovable grans.

  “I’ve been having issues… issues that concern us both. I fear for the worst Luna.” She sucks in a breath, and I start sweating because it can only be bad news.

  “No! You can’t be dying! You’re all I have left, damn it, Granny! I freaking love you!” I cry into my cup, and I get a smack of a hand on the back of my head. With surprise, I look through blurry eyes and see her scowling at me like that’s the most ridiculous thing in the whole world.

  “Shut your filthy mouth, child! I’m too young to keel over. I needed you to home because we have a disturbance in the community. A rather frightening one. You are going to help me gain control back, and I’m getting married.” She announces with a pleased look as I spit my drink everywhere and wheeze through a coughing fit.

  “Come again?” I rasp through a sore throat since I had most of the tea come out of my nose. That burns like witches brew through the nostrils.

  “That old brute has finally asked my hand in forever marriage until he dies. I plan on living forever, by the way. Anywho, Gerald, the shop owner next to mine—my arch-nemesis—is going to be my husband, but he thinks he’s going to take the shop under his control. That coot is getting nothing of mine if he can’t learn to share, and I mean nothing. Even on our honeymoon if he doesn’t have a change of heart. No loving from me; that’s for sure, well maybe a wee bit.” She says deadpan with her plotting face on full game.

  And that’s my cue to make an escape because my ears are scarred for life and, Gerald’s grandsons are the twins. I slam my mug on the table and stand with the chair scraping against the wood floors.

  “Are you out of your mind, Granny? You can’t marry Gerald! He’s been causing you trouble from day one! And— and his grandsons are the uh— damn it! No!” I storm out of the kitchen, too mad to hear her side of the story, and flick my wrist for my tote bag to follow me up the spiraling staircase. I don’t even bother to ask her what is the disturbance in the community, I’ll find out eventually.

  I don’t even pause as I snap my fingers for the bedroom door to open and shut behind me. Falling onto my old bed, I stare up at the ceiling and wonder when my life got so complicated. Was it when I had my sixteenth birthday and became a powerful witch, or was it when I fell in love with both of the twins years later? I’m tempted to hop in my little bug of a car and drive away without looking back like before.

  I turn my head to look outside the window, directly across is the window that looked into the twins’ shared bedroom—Titus and Saint. My best friends who grew up to be the men I both ended up loving, and still do. A shadow appears in the window of the darkened bedroom—unmoving. Watching me watch whoever it is, but I know who, at least my body does. It still yearns to cross that distance and fall into both their arms. I snap my fingers, and my blinds close before one of them thinks about crawling through my window, but I highly doubt that. I left without a notice and no goodbye, I was a fool to think it was okay to be in love with both of them.

  I dated Titus, but I wanted Saint also, and that night he kissed me was the best night of my life.But also the worst. Titus caught Saint and I kissing, I didn’t know what to do so I fled and never looked back. I knew I broke his heart, and I regretted being who I was. I don’t anymore. I’ve changed and grown up, lead a life on my own, and stayed away from men. I didn’t have it in me anymore to open my heart, there wasn’t enough room for anyone else.

  I’m going to leave first thing in the morning after I sleep, shower, and coffee. Not in that order. My eyes start to drift shut, but my last thought is that I hope I don’t see them, or I might never have the courage to leave again.

  Chapter Two

  Someone plays with my hair, twirling it around their finger and smoothing it back. My back is deliciously warm, and my front is pressed against something hard yet velvet soft as I spread my fingers wide on the chest that’s comforting my cheek. This is heaven right here. I don’t want to wake up from this dream as I touch velvet skin and trail my fingers down a six-pack that I have a desire to lick. God, even in my sleep they overpower me into a limp noodle by just the smell of them. Sweet and spicy that I want to taste, lick, and devour. I moan gently as a rough hand wraps around my hair, exposing my neck as he places his lips on my pulse with a soft kiss.

  “Saint, you hear that? A moan of desire and need, fuck yes. God, I’ve missed those sounds, so fucking sweet and naughty.”

  My eyes fly open, and I stare in shock at a shirtless Titus as his violet, beautiful eyes roam my face with a serious expression. That look has always been unnerving, staring straight into me, seeing everything I have to give. Always the loving and serious twin, so protective and stubborn. The hand wrapped in my blue hair pulls until my back is arched, and I gaze into Saint’s upside-down face. His lighter violet eyes always held a dangerous, playful glint in them, and right now, they are sparkling with wicked intent as his eyes collide with my green eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing in my bed!?” I whisper-shout with a squeak as Saint angles my head and kisses the living daylights out of me. He doesn’t hold back, he plunges in and takes control. A demanding kiss, a way to set my world on fire, and a way to remind me who owns my body. I gasp for breath as he pulls back with a knowing smirk and releases me. I turn to Titus with red cheeks as embarrassment floods my body, only his eyes are burning with lust. His thick length presses against my thigh, big and long. Heat invades me as he sinks his head closer to mine, staring at my swollen lips. I should stop him, but damn it, I’ve missed him with everything in me. A kiss as gentle as a butterfly places on my lips, he’s always treated me like fragile glass, but savors every last second, and makes me feel like the most important person in his world. A groan vibrates in his chest, making me wet and overheated as he glides his tongue along my bottom lip before sucking it in. He breaks away with blown pupils and breathing heavily as Saint smooths a hand down my side.

  I’m flabbergasted because I don’t understand any of this! Why are they both kissing me? Don’t they understand this will only lead to heartbreak? The most important question is why they aren’t fighting or yelling at having kissed me at basically the same time?

  “I um— I have no words. What is this?” I wave my hands back and forth between them like a madwoman, and they both chuckle that same dark laugh. These fuckers, that laugh makes my panties fly off on their own record.

  “Just delivering your morning wake up call, better get used to it. Also, Granny wants you downstairs in ten minutes.” With that, Titus places a kiss on my nose, hops out of my bed, and swaggers to the door.

  My gaze follows those muscle glutes in tight black jeans, and I have a desire to take a bite. I glance up when he pauses at the door to see I’ve
been caught red-handed. With a sexy smirk of more promises to come, he swaggers out the door and closes it with a small chant under his breath. We live in a community of witches and warlocks, but warlocks love to show off, it’s in their blood.

  I sit up in bed and sneak a glance over my shoulder at the one twin who hasn’t stopped caressing my skin. I realize then I’m in a tank top, booty shorts, and fuzzy slippers with little bats on them—how embarrassing. He only runs his gaze up and down my body, letting out a pained sound when I stand up. Stretching my arms over my head, I hide my smile as I sway my hips towards the bathroom. The door shuts before I can even cross it, and I turn around to confront the butthead only to bump into Saint’s chest. He studies me with a black arched brow, and I can’t help staring at him. I’ve missed his face and dark humor. High cheekbones, sharp violet eyes that remind me of a storm passing by just as the sun peaks through the clouds, black hair that hangs in said eyes, straight nose, and lips of sin. Slightly puffy and made to bring the pleasure. Can’t forget that tempting dimple that appears the longer I stare at him. He’s always been cocky, but he’s watched my every move as if I’m the only woman he can see.

  “You going to shower?” He whispers in a deep voice by my ear, and my nipples pucker; it doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he smiles devilishly at my breast.

  I clear my throat loudly, and yet he keeps staring with a hard glint in his gaze. Crossing my arms over my chest, I snap my fingers, and his chin is pulled up by the force of my witchy powers. He chuckles as I glare at him.

  “Yes, I’m showering. What’s it to you?” I snarl, and it ends up being a yelp because he bends down and grabs the back of my knees without warning. I’m suddenly upside down over his broad shoulder, looking at a magnificent ass. I pound on his back as he strides into the white and pink bathroom. Granny hasn’t changed a thing in decades, although everything does look brand new. A clawfoot is placed in front of a fogged glass window with a flowered shower curtain ring around the tub and a matching pink sink. Some things never change and that brings an instant smile to my face. Wait, no, I’m pissed off that I’m being manhandled by this caveman.