Look! Another bloghop event! I’m trying to be all kinds of informative on what I’m working on, as if I’m some kind of serious author. I decided to share another sneak peek at “The Rite” from the upcoming dark anthology, which is so hard because there’s lots of little things that I don’t want to give away for you! Hopefully this whets your appetites!

This is when Heather first meets Neil at a speed-dating event!

***

She snapped out of her daze and took her hand from his to brush her hair behind her ears. What the fuck was she going to do? What could she say, what could she – “I’m a witch.”

The words fell out of her mouth and his eyes went wide. Then he started laughing. “Seriously?”

“Actually, yes.” Heather stared at him, tense as she waited to see what he’d do.

“So – what? Are you in, like, a tribe of witches?” He was still grinning at her, and he wasn’t running.

“You mean a coven?” She corrected.

“I don’t know. Do I mean coven?” His smile was intoxicating. Why did he have to be so cute?

“I think so.” Heather found herself smiling back.

“Is a coven like a tribe of witches?”

“…yes. It’s like a tribe of witches.” She laughed. Who hadn’t watched enough Hollywood movies to know the term coven?

“Okay… so – what? Are you in a coven?” He reached for her hand, running his thumb over her palm like he wasn’t concerned at all. He wasn’t acting like she was crazy, or demanding the weird, peppy hostess lady switch them early.

“Yeah. I’m in a coven. With my family.” It was weird to say the truth out loud, and she intently stared at him waiting for a reaction other than this casual acceptance.

He smiled at her, “Well, number 19 the witch, I’m writing your number down because you are the only girl here who is both interesting and pretty.” Then he did, black pen scrawling the numbers one and nine on the first line of his paper.

The bell clanged, and he looked over at the hostess and rolled his eyes. “Write my number down. Come on, do it.” He stood up but he didn’t move away from the seat, his hands braced on the table top. Number 22 was glaring at him. “Come on, 19. Write it down.” He grinned at her, all cocky bravado, and – she did. Her pen carefully marking out the numbers two and one next to each other on the first line. He put his hands together like he was praying and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before he dropped into the chair at the next table.

Why was he thanking her? She winced, guilt racking her already.

***

Ohhhhh, the things I want to spoiler here. But I won’t. You’ll just have to read “The Rite” to discover why this story deserves to be in a dark anthology. ^_^ Hope you enjoyed my lovelies!