Let Kiki Howell’s newest book, LOVE, CREATIVITY AND MAGICK, take you away into the magical world of witches and vampires and that one special day of romance, Valentine’s Day.
All acts of magick take on shades of gray in the end, especially for Emma, one of four females witches who by birthright belong in the social circles of the privileged upper ten thousand in London. Yet, by rumor of the unknown and the misunderstood, she stands apart, cut by her peers along with her cousins, because they hold a secret—each is gifted with magick.
Their elders had taught them respect for their powers even when mixed with a spanking amount of fanciful mischief. On the other hand, if a lesson was warranted, then white verses black magick could be hard to define. Nowhere was the color of steam more evident than in the matters of justice, a slippery term to define. Yet, they’d made breaking the laws of society their mission. Most of their nights at parties and balls were spent creating a magickal comedy of errors, helping the uptight aristocracy side step their fastidious standards.
Only this year, days before Valentine’s Day, a damnable day for women without suitors, Emma is not quite sure what is happening to her. Something dark and seductive, something not of this world, is luring her, possessing her, and she has no comprehension of what or who the presence really is. But, when he does show his face finally, and she feels him to be a nightwalker, she must fear not only the threat he poses to her blood and to the energy or magick he can suck from her, but also the danger he poses to her heart. After all of these days feeling him, wanting him, she has to wonder if her feelings are just a matter of his compulsion, if she is under this vampire’s own type of magick.
To complicate matters further, the vampire’s propositions are as exciting as they are scandalous, to teach her how to power her magick with the overabundance of sexual energy she bears. But, how he knows such things he remains elusive about. And there is the added attraction that this vampire was a failed inventor in life, one with a basement full of contraptions she finds she can power through the use of her sexual energy. Valentine’s Day seems like it could be all kinds of fun this year now.
Yet, in these days of social unrest and out-of-control creativity, what is a witch to do with a vampire? When Valentine’s Day rolls around, and a secret is revealed, what will be left for her?
Back home and retired to her own bedroom, she flew to her glass doors, which lead onto her balcony. Stopping short of throwing them open, she saw a man, his outline a shadow against the gas lamps on the street. Stepping closer, unable to resist, she could see how his head was raised to a proud angle, and how his wicked smile brightened his dark eyes. A sudden wave of panic bred of realization washed over her.
“Why Emma, your body gives off the heat of sexuality like the flame of a candle blowing in a breeze. I have been burnt by its sparks all night as I’ve watched you.” The low timbre of his voice was erotic and intimate, wrapping her in comfort. “Drop the protective spell which bars me from your room. Let me in. You know me. It is I, the one you have been feeling for weeks. It is my presence you now long for.”
“Yes I am,” he cut her off. “I knew a powerful witch such as yourself would know what I am once I got close enough to you. Such is the reason why you had to get to know me first, from a distance. I didn’t compel you if that is what you think, but let you feel me. I opened myself to you, every night for months, to let you get to know me. And, I thank whatever there is that is still blessed in this world, that because of my actions, my abilities, you have come to want me as well. I can feel it, it burns within you; a flame I blew on, made come to life. Now there you stand with a raging fire all your own to save the likes of this cold-blooded vampire.”
Her mind went through the ominous and the seductive possibilities before her. As one of the walking dead, beyond his threat to the blood, which coursed through her veins, a vampire could suck from her the energy that made her magickal. Be that as it may, the chance to be at the mercy of this man was alluring nonetheless in a way she could not possibly comprehend or explain. He was so much stronger than her, dangerous even, and this excited a place in her that even she didn’t know existed. It was juxtaposed to everything she did, stood for. She may use her gifts, even at times at the expense of others, to rebel against social morals and rules, but she wasn’t reckless. Yet, the idea of giving herself to him, naked and wanton, made her feel even stronger.
She did feel she knew him, had been getting to know him in an intimate way over time. She’d welcomed the presence even when she felt it was driving her mad, when her pulse raced and her head got hazy just because she could feel him near. His touch, his kiss, she wanted. Desperately. How had she missed what he was? Was it a matter of compulsions? Did he just out right lie? Was he using some sort of mind energy, specific to his kind on her, even before tonight, before this first face-to-face meeting? His kind certainly weren’t above it. They hungered for a witch’s magick, and after they drained them of their energy, they drained them of their blood. The same had happened to her aunt just a little under a year ago.
She knew though, beyond a shadow of any doubt, that sexual tension wound tight like twine around the bristles of a broom inside her. And, the two of them were still separated by glass, a frail barrier she wanted to break to get to him. She had to be under his type of spell, so to speak, and knew not what she would do next.