House of Witches Series

Club 669 (House of Witches Book 1)

Witch’s corpse. Witch’s ticket. Witch’s party.

As a counter-boy at a high-end men’s boutique, Charlie Jessup’s life consists of little more than work and sleep. That, and enough flirting to help guarantee his commission on sales will pay his rent. So when a twist of fate, and some behavior unbecoming that of a Ganymede employee, leaves him in possession of a dead man’s pass to a mysterious Club 669, Charlie has no desire to waste it.

Every seventeen years, the House of Witches throws a party like no other. It’s invitation-only, and for centuries it has helped ensure peace between the covens. It’s the last place Caspian wants to be, but with the death of Queen Avel, and his own imminent rise to the throne, it’s more important than ever that he attends. The stability of the House depends on it.

In four days a new king will be crowned, but when Charlie unintentionally crashes a gathering of the most secretive of all the Great Houses, he sets in motion a series of events that could disrupt the transition of power, and threaten the future of the House of Witches forever.

Excerpt


“Friend of yours?” I looked up, finding Sebastian and accepting the glass he held out, something I found trickier in the glove.

“Nope.” I took a sip, fighting a grimace at the sour sting of it. I wasn’t well-versed in alcohol, but whatever this was, I wasn’t crazy about it. “What do I owe you?”

“Just a dance.” Sebastian smiled down at me and took a sip of his own drink. “Maybe your name?”

“Oh.” I laughed, taking another swallow of the vile liquid. “Charlie.”

“You’re really hot, Charlie.” I started to say something but lost my train of thought completely when his fingers dropped to stroke across my stomach.

“Who are your people?”

Even if I knew how to answer, I couldn’t have. I couldn’t even think, not with him touching me like that.

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

Expecting?

He moved his hand up, brushing against the barbell in my right nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt, and I felt it all the way down to my balls.

“Drink up, Charlie.” His lips were pressed against my ear again, the moist warmth of them making me dizzy.

I did as I was told, taking first one mouthful and then another, and then another until the empty glass was pulled from my hand. “Good boy.”

Bodies moved together, a blur on the dance floor, the light a hypnotic flashing, and I felt warm from the tips of my ears to the bottoms of my feet. Sebastian touched my nipple again, before dropping his hand to press over the fly of my pants. I was half hard, my pulse pounding, my breath coming in short pants.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

He grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crowd and into another one of those dark halls, and for just a moment my only thought was…what about our dance? But I was too tired to ask.

We climbed a flight of steps onto what could have only been described as an observation deck. It was full of people in expensive clothes, drinking from tall, fluted glasses and watching the activity on the floor below from a wide balcony. It was like some sort of high-end peepshow, or a sex-club for the very rich and very bored.

Another archway brought us into yet another hall, this one lit painfully bright. The passage was lined with doors, each opening into small, intimate rooms with couches, chairs, and the occasional bed. There were other rooms too. These were closed, but being well and truly used, judging by the sound of it.

My head started pounding and the walls around me spun. Something was wrong with all of this and I tried to tug my hand free but failed.

“I don’t feel well.” If Sebastian heard me, he didn’t stop, instead yanking me with more force through the crowd of people blocking our path.

I tried to tug free again, still with no success, instead careening sideways and slamming into someone among a group coming from the opposite direction. The man grabbed my shoulders to steady me, and I looked up into the eyes I’d spent so many months thinking about. They were definitely amber. Their look of annoyance turned into confusion.

“Charlie?”

“Dreamboat?” I thought his expression softened at that, but the look was quickly replaced by one of absolute fury and I cringed.

Sebastian tugged at me again, unaware of what was playing out behind him, and Dreamboat turned the full force of his anger his way.

“This boy is drugged.”

Sebastian turned, opening his mouth to deny it, but before he could make a sound, Dreamboat spoke again, this time a quiet jumble of sounds. Words that didn’t seem to be words at all.

Sebastian let go of me and tried to bolt.

He made it exactly three steps before he dropped limp onto the floor.

“Carry that man downstairs. And find out the name of his coven.” This was nothing like the Dreamboat I’d imagined—a bookish teacher or struggling student—barking out orders as he was, people moving quickly to do as he asked.

A large man in a dark gray suit hefted Sebastian's body up and over his shoulder, ass in the air, and a woman in a pale satin gown stopped to inquire what needed to be done with the boy. I was the boy. Even as sluggish and foggy-brained as I was, I knew that much.

It was then that I registered that Dreamboat was the only thing keeping me upright.

“I’ll take care of him,” Dreamboat reassured her and she nodded, turning to follow the man in gray. “And Judith, have this hall cleared.”

She did, and soon it was only Dreamboat, me, and two men standing guard at the entrance.

“If you’ll permit it, I’d like to find you a place to rest.” He was back to sounding more like the man I’d met at the store. Quieter, kinder, and as if he carefully chose his words before speaking. “Have someone check you over?”

I wanted to tell him yes. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to devour his lovely mouth. Something about the alcohol and adrenaline, how little I’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours, and probably whatever Sebastian had slipped into my drink, was having a hell of an effect on me.

Instead, I threw up.

The Whiskey Den (House of Witches Book 2)

Bad things happen for a reason.

Adam Neive’s expiration date is closer than he would like, and it’s only a matter of time before he loses his position as a Ganymede counter-boy. When a friend helps him secure a part-time job at a whiskey bar, his only thought is to escape the looming shadow of the brothels. He never expected another run-in with the witch Sebastian.

Fourteen months after being booted from his coven, Sebastian has become convinced his brother’s death is connected to the wolves of The Whiskey Den. He just needs Adam’s help to discover how. But things are not always as they seem, and justice is more elusive than expected.

When an announcement from the House of Witches changes everything, Adam will need to choose between life within the safety of the king's Monastery and the uncertainty of the city. While Sebastian will have to decide if his family's honor and the life he thought he had lost forever is worth more than the life he's only begun to realize he wants.

Excerpt

After the doors were locked at two-thirty, and most of the staff had gone home, M had introduced himself, and he and Sebastian had shared a few drinks together at the bar.

M made small talk about the business and his family, and if it hadn’t been obvious to Sebastian that it was all a ploy to get him naked, he would have thought he had the wrong guy. Hugo would have found the conversation tiresome. Too tiresome to wade through for that first quickie.

His brother had never been good at feigning interest in other people’s lives. He’d barely been able to feign interest in the lives of his own siblings. Unless, of course, they crossed some invisible line he’d drawn.

“But enough talk.” M pulled the glass from Sebastian’s hand and smiled. “I have a better idea.”

“Finally. I was beginning to wonder whether you even liked men.”

Sebastian allowed himself to be manhandled—nudged and nipped—and expertly herded down the long, dim hall. They pushed through a door and into a dark room, and M flipped on the lights. The walls were lined with nearly empty racks, a few stray coats, left-behinds from who knew when, and a long counter with a set of drawers marked ‘Lost and Found.’

The moment he pushed the door closed, M began unbuttoning his shirt, and in moments had discarded it and pulled his T over his head.

Sebastian had to admire his speed, and the expanse of his chest, even if he had no interest at all in the wolf.

“You don’t mind if I smoke, right?” Sebastian pulled out his lighter, as he pretended to search for a cigarette with his other hand.

“No, you don’t.” M swiped it from his fingers and tossed it into the pile of discarded clothes. “No smoking in my place. Ever.”

Well, fuck. That had been his father’s lighter.

“Now take that off. I want to see you.”

Sebastian smiled, taking his time removing his coat and dropping it to the floor as he murmured a few simple words of an incantation, and then reached to splay his fingers over M’s breastbone.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, my little witch.” M grabbed his wrist, stopping him, and spun Sebastian around, pushing him hard against the wall. Empty metal hangers scattered across the floor, and M tugged at the waistband of Sebastian’s pants. “You’re right that we’ve wasted too much time already.”

In other circumstances, Sebastian might have found it a great start to a night. But not like this. Before he’d even thought about it, orange flames sparked from his fingers—his instinct for survival kicking in—overriding years of discipline to not reveal himself in public.

Conjured fire was far more powerful than any lighter, so it took only a thought to send M tumbling backward. He slammed hard against the floor, and Sebastian moved fast to press his hand, now wreathed in flames, against the wolf’s muscled chest.

“Tell me what—”

“Shit, shit, M.” A man stood at the door, eyes squeezed shut, mortified. He began backing out of the room but bumped into the doorframe. Sebastian had been so distracted that he hadn’t heard anyone walk in. “I’m so sorry.”

“Adam?” Even after all these months, just seeing him again made Sebastian’s heart pound in his chest.

Adam opened his eyes, this time truly taking in the scene, his gaze landing on where Sebastian’s hand flickered against M’s chest.

“Sebastian? What in the fuck is going on?”

“It’s not what it looks like.” The wolf stirred underneath his hand, and Sebastian focused harder on his spell.

“Really? M wasn’t trying to fuck you in the coatroom?”

“Okay, well maybe it does.”

“Did you drug him?”

“What? No, of course not.” Sebastian knew that for all Adam knew about him, there was no of course about it. “Now hush, so I can concentrate.”

He looked back down at the man under him. Shifters weren’t like humans. Humans were easy to manipulate through magic, but shifters took far more effort.

“I’m calling for help.”

“No, you’re not.” Sebastian didn’t want to have to cast on Adam as well. Not because he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to control both him and the shifter, but because of a whole slew of other reasons he didn’t want to examine. “Tell me about Hugo.”

The wolf’s eyes blinked open, but he didn’t answer.

“My brother came here the night he died. Was it to see you?”

“No.” The wolf shook his head slowly, his eyes vacant as if he was looking right through him. “Hugo.”

“What happened to him?” Sebastian was aware that Adam had moved to his side and knelt to get a closer look. “Who would want him dead?”

“M? Adam? Everything okay?” The call came from somewhere in the bar, and Sebastian and Adam looked at one another.

“Fuck.” They said the word in unison, and Adam pushed up.

“Just grab your coat and go home. If I can buy you time, I will.”