Ember: AngelWitch, #2

By Jessica Samuels

Ember is an ordinary witch until she discovers her full potential. Will she be able to hold onto the love that walks into her life or will the evil Poison Apple Coven take her AngelWitchy coven down?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Samuels
• Release date: Jun 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781695401549

Jessica Samuels

Jessica Samuels is an author who writes young adult and new adult paranormal romance. When she isn’t writing about vampires, werewolves, witches and angels she is watching stream, reading and playing video games with friends to pass the time.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ihadn’t been happy in a while. And all I could do was sit there, thinking of my next move in the bathroom while I broke down. My life had amounted to nothing. My recent relationship came to an end. Before it was said and done, he tore my heart out and left me to pick up the pieces. He managed to convince me that we just needed time apart. Next thing I knew, his stuff was gone. I was alone once again. Tonight, my ex had the balls to walk into the bar, and he wasn’t alone either. I snapped back to reality and began my pre-work ritual; I donned my Rockie’s Blood uniform, name tag and all. I wanted to just run away, somewhere nobody knew my name. It still weighed on my mind that I could be so easily replaced. My old coven threw me out since the dark witches took over and killed my mom for my book. My life had been thrown into shit, which is why I'm hiding and taking this job in the first place. Let’s just say that my life was never dull. In fact, it’d been pretty stop and go without a break for me to unwind and relax from.

I’d been there for maybe close to a year, and despite the fact I majored in conjuring and potions, I still struggled to keep a roof over my head. Rockie’s Blood was a Tavern for all kinds of creatures. Some of the regular vamps there preferred fine china to random necks. I assumed they kept the biting thing for their lovers instead of their prey. Werewolves could order raw meat to satiate their four-legged friend’s appetite, and there was even a menu for witches to order food--actual burgers, fries, steak, you name it and we got it. Rockie’s was also a popular place for high level baddies like vampires, and werewolves. Rockie’s was even a popular place for witch covens. Working there could be a drag at times, especially when table 75 ordered blood and complained it wasn’t as hot as it could be.

I adjusted my shirt, making my boobs pop for extra tips. I needed the extra money, after all. I took a deep breath in the bathroom. I redid my makeup since it ran down my face because my dumb ass forgot waterproof makeup. All I wanted to do was drink alcohol till I passed out and eat awful TV dinners, while crying to cheesy romance movies. I put on a brave face anyway, since I was a kick ass witch. I was also done with letting someone win. Not to mention he knew I worked there, so he deliberately came just to shove his flings in my face. Like I cared about anything but hiding. He was a loser, nothing more, and I had more important things to be concerned with like staying hidden to care right now. I wish I didn’t, but it still twinged when I looked back on what we had.

My ex, Derrick, was sexy for sure--soulful blue eyes, dark blonde hair, and tattoos. Like, my god, everything I thought I ever wanted in someone. We got along for the most part, and he was a vampire which meant he could take my blood and power, which was addicting. Very addicting when mixed with love and sex. I was on a high while I was with him, and there was nothing that could stop it. He was a vampire warrior, and I loved the uniform. Now he was kissing and smiling, and hugging someone else, someone ugly though. A vampire groupie, judging by the marks on her slender neck.

The tears came faster, threatening to fall all over. So much for redoing my makeup. It was hard seeing him smile at someone else and holding them like they would break at any moment. My facade tore to shreds again. Me, with my bad habit of letting everything get to me like I usually do. Luckily, he wasn’t in my area to watch, and I didn’t have to ask him if he needed a thing of hay for his pig or his new chew toy. Not even the most powerful spells could help with this heartbreak. I didn’t feel like cursing her and ruining my rep. Not even poisoning her drink would make me happy. I was a good witch. Hell, if I was that bad, I might as well show up to the witch's doorstep.

I fought through the agony threatening to consume me. It was the worst, and my eyes turned red from all the crying. Not sleeping didn’t help. I also felt sick. Like, it was awful. Someone kill me, please. Witches hurt me? Anything? No? Can someone save me from this torment?

I did the grown-up thing and pushed it all down, far away to the back of my mind. I thought about the good memories of me serving blood to a few nice vamps. Helping creatures in the cold, anything to get my mind to not hurt in the first place. I couldn’t afford to have another breakdown at work. The last thing I wanted was to explain why I was crying over table threes blood when it had nothing to do with work. And these customers never bothered me anyway. I ignored their attitudes for the most part.

I just had to get through this shift and I was free to drink oodles of wine and pass out while binge watching sappy romance movies with TV dinners up the ass. No cooking for me. I couldn’t cook. The microwave was my best friend.

I walked out of the women's restroom to get back to my job and save my sanity by throwing myself into work.

The restaurant was pretty nice, with black walls and a red ceiling with pictures of creatures on it. It was created to be a fun place to hang out and spend time with friends and family. There were even strategically placed televisions with various sports. The vinyl booths were nicer than the usual ones, and you could tell the owner spent more on them than the average restaurant. I was determined to finish this shift today since it was all I had going for me, and all I had left was this job. After all, my life had been hell warmed over. And crispy with extra hot, spicy sauce. It was busy enough to help me keep my mind off of stuff. I just couldn’t look over at him.

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There was a war going on between the covens. The Poison Apple Coven, who were bad witches versus the Fire Dragons, who were my people, the good guys and had dragons to call. My mom was caught in the crossfire and killed by the leader of them--Ivy, one of the baddest witches out there. I still remembered how my mom’s green eyes always smiled up at me like we both shared a big secret, and she wore it while she cooked dinner in the witch apron I got her. Her long, red hair was tied back. She loved making stuff with me, and we would have fun, especially with the asshole that tried to use me. She was a witch who conjured up revenge spells. She loved getting even with the people who truly deserved it. She was a good witch who used her magic only when she was truly wronged. She had an amazing gift and was taken out too early. I wanted to cry again, but I didn’t want to do it at work. That was the last thing I needed. We sent a curse to his house and set it on fire, making it look like an accident. Best day ever doing revenge spells with my mom.

The fire element was our best friend. It could burn down an entire village and stop even the most stubborn water spell. She was gone. No more Mom to tell me how men sometimes sucked and that I deserved better than someone who wouldn’t make time for me. That I would find the man of my dreams. He was coming for me and the reason why it didn’t work with anyone else. How soon I’d be cuddling up to the love of my life, and how the warmth of our bodies would feel good as we watched a favorite movie for the tenth time. Cuddling was the best feeling, and being held made my day. I was way less stressed and happier. Now I was just depressed and a wreck, relying on alcohol to take my feelings away.

It was hard facing loss like losing my mother and a break up on top, like everything had to happen at once. There were some days when I was fine, and days where I just gave in and sobbed. I picked up my pen and paper out of my apron and walked up to greet the guy sitting at the bar with his head down. I felt that way too, buddy. It’s been a long one for me. I feel your pain. People come here to talk with friends, meet up with dates, and even drink their time away--one cold glass at a time.

I went up to him and said, Is there anything else I can get for you, sir? In a friendly, cheery tone. It looked like he was already drinking based off the empty glasses on the table already there. I wondered where his server was, and if it was who I thought it was, I’d take over from there. This was my specialty. I loved dealing with drunks.

He looked at me with his soulful, chocolate eyes. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, he was that attractive, and his hair was spiked too, like he had just gotten out of bed. He actually existed. Holy shit! The guy in my dreams. Fuck me. He is real, and I just can’t believe he