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Power of Attraction
by Taige Crenshaw

Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Romance
Description: A man will come to you in the darkest moon. The trees will shade and protect your union of the soul. Before the final step to merge your body is taken, a choice must be made. Peyton Blackstone, a natural born witch, knew from the prophecy that accompanied her birth that a man would come to her. Yet, when the man who is set to be her's arrives, Peyton isn't ready for him or the ramifications his coming will cause. This man who deals with reality has a few secrets of his own - secrets that could very well destroy them both. Wesley McCarty believes the woman he meets under the moonlight is not real. Suffering from unexplained blackouts, he believes he is losing his mind. When he sees her again, he realises not only is his fantasy woman real, but she is within his reach. He must have her, no matter the cost. Nothing will stop him. Not his blackouts, or any legacies or prophecies. He will have this woman who sets his blood on fire and completes his soul. Legacies, destiny, and prophecy can not withstand this power of attraction.
eBook Publisher: Total-e-bound, 2011
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011


4 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [161 KB]
Words: 35433
Reading time: 101-141 min.

Fear swamped Wesley McCarty as he looked at the date on the newspaper in disbelief.

January twelfth

He had lost six months of time and had no idea of what he had done. Swearing viciously, he leant back against the couch. He ran his hand over his head. The last thing he remembered was going to bed early. When he woke he was so relived, hell thankful, he hadn't dreamed.

Wesley looked down at his hands and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, no blood, cuts, or markings. You're doing okay, Wes."

Even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. It was just the beginning of summer when he went to sleep yet when he woke there was snow on the ground. He tried to remember what had happened.

Black waves of pain hammered in his head. He swallowed the nausea bubbling in the back of his throat. He breathed rapidly in and out. The feeling passed. After some time, the pain lessened and he could think.

Oh God, what is happening to me? I'm losing my--

Wesley cut off the thought before it could form. No. There is a reasonable explanation. There has to be one.

Wesley sat up and pushed the button for the answering machine on the table next to the couch. As the many messages played, he started to shake. By the last one he knew that one of his vague explanations weren't going to fix this. His friends who were also his business partners would want an explanation. Besides this one, there were times before that he had disappeared for a few hours, or days, and he had easily explained them away. This last disappearance of so many months would only make them question all the other times he had been gone before. He wasn't ready to answer any questions. He had no clue himself what was going on.

"What am I going to do?"

He slumped deeper into the couch and closed his eyes while he thought up various explanations for his disappearance. None sounded believable enough for his partners to buy.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes. His gaze landed on the tapestry over the fireplace. The profusion of colours of the scenic mountains, waters, and beautiful landscapes was a backdrop to a woman seemingly in the shadows. He couldn't make out her features, but still got a sense of her happiness and sultry beauty. Her head was tilting back, and she held her body as if waiting for something. When he had received the piece from his friend Ian McIntyre, the note had said it was called Prophecy. Although it should have seemed like a weird name, it somehow seemed to fit.

He remembered the note had also extended an invitation to come to Blackstone Haven.

With a sense of purpose, he stood. He knew where he was going.

You're running away. He ignored the voice in his head and continued to look at the tapestry.

The scene called to him.

In a swift motion, he picked up the letter opener from the table, turned, and threw it. It quivered, embedded into the wall behind him.

Shocked, Wesley stared at it. Slowly, he made his way over to it. A feeling of unease swept him as he saw the bug pinned to the wall with the opener. He curled his hand over the handle and tried to pull it out. He couldn't.

Tugging hard with both hands, he was able to release it. Wesley looked at the letter opener, then at the mark it in the wall.

"What the hell?"

His voice echoed in the emptiness. He glanced around the room that usually gave him comfort. The long, dark brown couches, chairs, and other items he had chosen years ago when he had bought the house seemed to not be the same. The walls were closing in on him.

"I've got to get out of here." Wesley turned quickly and made his way back upstairs.

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