The Naughty Witch

By Alana Church

Evanora needs money. A customer needs a fertility potion. But the sexy witch needs a special ingredient - the seed of a virgin man! And when a handsome, born-again Christian comes by, this naughty witch is going to do everything in her sexy powers to get Thomas into her bed - and more!

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

A Christian wizard. It seemed like a bad joke.

But, maybe, after, all, he wasn’t quite as unique as he feared. He thought about Newton, the brilliant mind behind The Principia, which had lain the foundations for physics for three centuries, but who had also taught himself Hebrew, so he could better understand the floor plans of the Great Temple in Jerusalem, where he hoped to find hints about the date of the Second Coming of Christ. Or Darwin, whose faith had been so sorely tested while he wrote On the Origin of Species that he had essentially tossed the manuscript into a drawer for over a decade, until Alfred Russel Wallace’s work in the Malay Archipelago had pushed him to publish.

The hour of sunset passed. Having reached an internal truce with himself, he walked out the back door, still dressed in the robe he had brought to the house, half as a joke. Following Evanora’s instructions, he let his robe slip off his shoulders as he walked naked down the narrow flight of steps that led into the pool.

He ducked down, submerging his nude body in the water. High in the sky, the waxing moon shone down on him, bathing the yard in a thin, silvery light. Emerging, he threw his head back, dashing water from his eyes, blinking as thin streams ran down his face.

And then Evanora came out, and he lost all ability for thought.

She was naked, and she strode towards him like a queen, like a goddess, like the perfect female form made flesh. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach flat, the fiery patch of hair at her pubis neatly trimmed. Her breasts, which he had seen in tantalizing glimpses throughout the day, were large, high, and firm, and pointed ever-so-slightly upward. Her eyes, shadowed in the dim light, were wise, and her face was serene – a woman who had seen her Goddess and knew that She approved of her.

Slowly, gracefully, she stepped down into the pool. When her eyes caught and held his, it was all he could do to hold back an involuntary flinch. There was power there. Power enough to send him reeling, untrained as he was.

“Thomas Oberon Winkler. Is it your wish to undergo training as a wizard, to be my apprentice, and to give yourself to the service of the Light?”

He swallowed. “It is, Mistress.”

“By what do you swear?”

“By my power. And by my name.”

She nodded. He lowered his eyes as she cupped her hands, raised them, and poured the gathered water over his head.

“Be thou shriven.

“Be thou bound.

“Be thou sanctified.

“Be thou baptized.

“Be thou courageous, and honorable, and strong.”

As the fifth double handful of water trickled away, Thomas blinked, clearing his eyes. All through the ceremony, he had felt the air around them tensing, growing charged as with electricity before a thunderstorm. But the air was still warm and dry, the skies above still clear.

He looked at Evanora, and knew that she felt it, too. Her eyes were wide and wild as she gazed at him, her pupils dilated.

“Be thou my lover,” she whispered, and Thomas saw, to his startlement, that he was erect, only a hairs-width from the pale belly of his mistress.

Who put her hands on his shoulders, drew his head down, and kissed him with a skill and passion he could scarcely believe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boruma Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jul 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463465066

Alana Church

Born and raised in Illinois, Alana attended the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, graduating with a degree in Education in 1994. She soon found out that the teaching life was not for her, and after a series of adventures has settled down in the Chicago suburbs, where she works for a telecommunications company.Alana lives alone, surrounded by books, pictures, a pile of story ideas, and a turtle named Pedro.

Book preview

The Naughty Witch

By Alana Church

Artwork by Moira Nelligar

Copyright 2018 Alana Church

== || < > || ==

~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~

== || < > || ==

Modern technology, Evanora Laggan thought resentfully, as her cell phone rang, can be a curse.

She stared at the pile of ingredients piled haphazardly on her kitchen counter, then at her cauldron, which was just coming to a boil.

Ishtar curse it, she sighed, then snapped off the heat on the stove with a flick of her wrist. The potion would have to wait. Evanora Laggan, she said, answering her phone. How can I help you?

Hello? The voice on the other end of the line was female, with a nervous hesitancy which Evanora was used to. When women finally screwed up the courage to call her or to come to her office, it still seemed to take them forever to finally come to the damned point. Is this Evanora?

It is, she said, keeping her voice friendly and cheerful, while she dropped her head and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. How can I help you?

My name is…well, I saw your ad online, the voice rambled on. A woman a few years younger than herself, Evanora thought, with a touch of class. She could picture her, an ex-cheerleader with a college degree, in a big house or a tastefully-decorated condo, with all the trappings of the upper class around her. And…I have to ask. Are you for real?

I am a practicing witch, she replied calmly, suppressing the urge to bite the woman’s head off. Really, Evanora, she chided herself. You need to get laid and work off some of this nervous energy. My ad lists the services I provide. Which of them are you interested in?

Well… there was a long pause as the woman obviously gathered her courage. There’s this guy.

I don’t do love potions, she said sharply. I don’t do anything that takes away someone’s free will. If another witch even got a hint that she was misusing her powers in such a way, she would find herself stripped of her rank and kicked out of the coven.

No, no, the woman said hastily. Nothing like that! We…we’re in love already. And we’ve been trying to have a baby.

Congratulations. So what’s the problem?

Mike’s…he’s…he’s having some…trouble.

He’s impotent? I can probably help with that.

"Oh, no. Not impotent. He doesn’t have any trouble there." A hint of a throaty giggle.

A light dawned, though Evanora was getting tired of supplying more than half of the conversation. He’s infertile.

"Yes. I mean, we’ve been trying for months and months. We went to a clinic, and they say there isn’t anything wrong with his…his insides or his sperm count or anything like that. We should be able to make a baby together. But we can’t. A quaver entered the cultured voice. We’ve been trying so hard, and we want one so bad. So when I saw your ad online, I thought I could call you. I mean, how could it hurt?"

It could hurt you quite a bit, Evanora thought. She kept her mouth shut though, not wishing to frighten the woman with the unpleasant prices that witches who disdained ethics or morality could extract from innocent and incautious mortals.

Sleeping Beauty, she recalled, had got off easy.

So you’re looking for a fertility potion, she said, relieved.

Yes. Ummm…how much will it cost?

Your firstborn child. Your husband’s love. A year of your memories. She shivered, fighting back the dark urges within her. This is a tricky one. It’s going to take a lot of work. With so many alternate methods, thanks to modern science, we don’t get called on for fertility potions that much anymore. She debated in her head, weighing her financial needs against her desire to help. Five thousand dollars.

Done. At the instant agreement, with no hesitation or haggling, Evanora felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. She probably could have charged twice that. But I pay half up front, when you deliver the potion. You get the other half when I have a positive pregnancy test. Ahint of hardness entered the well-modulated voice. And if I find out you’re trying to slip me a placebo, I’ll take you to court, Miss Laggan.

Agreed. Despite the financial loss, she was pleased to see that the woman was no fool. Give me a week. Can I reach you at this number?

Yes. A hesitation on the other end of the line. Will it really take that long?

"It