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Blue Magic, August 08
Total-E-Bound
ISBN: 978-1-906590-89-5
Genre: Fantasy
Format: e-Book
A
mysterious mirror is delivered to Ethan’s museum framed
with rare sapphires. Instead of his reflection, he sees
a blue room and an exotic woman who reminds him of an
Arabian princess.
The moment she speaks to
him, his body reacts strongly, and he can’t resist the need to
be with her. Amara has been trapped inside a mirror for decades,
bound to an enchantment that keeps her a prisoner. |
When she sees
Ethan, her entire being aches for him and she promises to
pleasure him like no other, but first she must convince him to
step through the mirror into her world.
Ethan’s feelings deepen
for Amara and he wants to free her of the enchantment. To do so
he must find a rare blue shard cut from glass and use it to
break the mirror’s spell. His only clue is a paper with strange
symbols and numbers. As he tries to solve the mystery, thieves
break into the museum. Ethan knows that if they find the mirror,
they will steal it, and Amara will remain captive forever.
Reviews
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Excerpt
He admired
the ornamental sapphire inlay. The mystic blue color of the gems
calmed him. He’d have to call in an appraiser to get a better idea
of their value. Beautiful as the mirror was, he worried about having
such an expensive item inside the museum, especially with the recent
break-ins.
Ethan pulled away the blue felt cover from the thick oval glass to
check for any nicks or scratches. He laid the cover on his desk and
did a double take as he turned. Rather than his own reflection in
the mirror, he found himself looking at part of a room bathed in a
bluish tint. Confused, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he
was still in his office. Sure enough, he was.
Again he faced the mirror and looked closer. From what he could see,
the partial room had a feminine mystique to it. A mirrorless vanity
sat against the wall with perfume bottles across it. He could only
see part of a bed but noticed lace trimming along the hem and
pillowcase. A rocking chair sat in the corner with a shawl neatly
folded over the slotted back. What in the hell was he looking at?
This couldn’t be a mirror, it looked more like an eerily lifelike
picture. Everything about this new delivery was shrouded in mystery.
As he was about to turn away, movement from the mirror caught his
eye.
Hairs on the back of his neck prickled. A woman appeared and walked
toward the window, her gait slow and graceful. She turned and gazed
out. The clarity of her delicate features surprised him. Exotic in
her appearance, she reminded him of an Arabian princess. He felt
awkward watching her, like a peeping Tom, invading her privacy. To
his knowledge, she couldn’t see him.
She rested her arm along the length of the windowsill and pressed
her lips together. A barrage of emotions consumed him all at once.
Desperation, loneliness, an urgency to escape. Emotions that
mirrored his own. He pushed the thoughts away and stared at the
mysterious woman. Was she a ghost? The way his body heated up, he
didn’t think so, but what other explanation could there be?
Her beauty captured him so intently he couldn’t help but express
himself.
“So beautiful.”
Face tilted, her gaze locked with his. Ethan’s breath stilled. Had
she heard him? Expressionless she stood and tentatively stepped
forward.
Her exquisite looks grabbed hold of his lungs and squeezed the air
from them. Long, jet black hair. Lips full and heart-shaped. High
cheekbones that begged a caress. And eyes a velvety blue, much like
the sapphires that decorated the mirror.
“Are you my new master?”
His muscles tightened. She’d spoken. Impossible. His loss of sleep
had evidently caught up with him.
She took another step closer. Her sheer transparent gown outlined
every scintillating curve of her body.
“Are you not able to hear me?”
Her rich, seductive voice was laced with an accent he couldn’t quite
place.
Ethan wet his lips. “Y-yes I can hear you, but…”
“Are you my new master?”
The sight of her distracted him terribly. “Pardon?”
She sighed and repeated the question. “Are you the master of the
mirror”
“No, I’m not the master.” The very word sounded foreign to his ears.
Her thin dark brows furrowed. “Then, if I may ask, who is?”
He wasn’t sure he understood the question. “No one. The mirror
belongs to the museum.”
She briefly looked beyond him. “Who owns the museum?”
Ethan brought a finger to his chest. “I do.”
A brilliant smile etched her lips. “Then you are my master. I am
yours.”
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