Mine Furever: Jordan and Isadora: The Macconwood Pack Tales 8

  Mine Furever

  A Macconwood Pack Tale

  C.D. Gorri

  Mine Furever

  A Macconwood Pack Novella

  From The Grazi Kelly Universe

  by C.D. Gorri

  To my amazing readers! I could not do this without you.

  Copyright 2020 C.D. Gorri

  WAIT! Before you read, subscribe here: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/5e80cd3dee06f00026d579f3

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either part of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights are reserved. No part of this book is to be reproduced, scanned, downloaded, printed, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of any materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Connect with C.D. Gorri

  Other Titles by C.D. Gorri

  P.S

  Excerpt from Grizzly Lover:

  Blurb

  Tagline:

  A Witch, a Wolf, and a little bit of magic walk into a bar...

  Synopsis:

  Jordan Feral’s Wolf goes crazy the second she steps into his life. He knows without a doubt the curvy little minx is the one for him despite her claim that he’s being influenced by her magic.

  Isadora Hazel is a Witch on the hunt for her runaway love spell. She follows its trail all the way to The Thirsty Dog.

  After spending years avoiding the Shifter haunt, Isadora has no choice but to go inside, and on Valentine’s Day of all days! Sigh. She only hopes no one gets hurt by her spell. Especially not her.

  Can Jordan convince the curvy little Witch that she belongs to him?

  Prologue

  “Where is that jar of Juno’s tears?” Isadora grumbled as she picked up nearly every bottle in her extensive spice cabinet looking for the dried herb.

  How could she be out of vervain again? The tiny blue flowers, also known as Juno’s tears, were vital to this spell. Ugh, she read the labels on the small glass bottles in her hand, then put them back down carefully. One. At. A. Time.

  The urge to slam them down on the wooden shelf was strong, but she knew better than that. Treating one’s ingredients with care improved their shelf life and helped them to remain pure. One of the many tips she’d learned from her friend and mentor, the renowned White Witch Sherry Morgan.

  “Okay, breathe and count to three,” she closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down, but frustration had her groaning aloud all too soon.

  Agh! She had no patience for this today. Like at all. It was that time of year again. Her busiest time. And no, she didn’t mean Christmas, Yule, or even Summer Solstice.

  February 14th had darkened her door once again and she’d needed an extra fifteen minutes with the pillow over her head before she could even get out of bed that morning. After that she’d added two shots of espresso to her already strong coffee and an extra spoon of sugar. Anything to help.

  Valentine’s Day. Yuck. It was the most anticipated and hated day in the entire calendar as far as Isadora Hazel was concerned. BUT, and, yes, it was a big but, it was also exceedingly good for business.

  Every year since she’d moved to the Jersey shore, Valentine’s Day had helped put her small shop in the black. Who knew folks from the Garden State were so into the occult?

  Here it was though, and, like clockwork, it brought every lovesick teen and young adult from Maccon City to Burlington County knocking on the door of her shop, Bells, Candles, and Spells, searching for a love spell.

  Being her naturally soft-hearted Witchy self, Isa could simply not refuse them. That, and she had bills to pay.

  Of course, she had to be careful with her magic. Normals could not know Witches and other supernaturals actually existed. It would break their fragile little brains. So, yes she helped, but only just. A dash of encouragement, a pinch of inspiration, and sometimes a zap of self-esteem.

  Of course, the potions and spells she doled out were time sensitive. These things could not last forever, and with teenagers only a few hours at most was even necessary. Hormones took care of the rest, though she was very careful to include pamphlets about safe sex and the benefits of abstinence to anyone under legal age. After all, she had a responsibility to the community.

  Still, word must have spread about her little love spells because she’d already sold out of all her premade bits of magic, and it was only five o-clock!

  Go Isa! Lady Luck must finally be on her side. Heck, maybe this year she’d finish with more than just her bank account feeling the love.

  That’d be a first! She snorted as she continued her search. Isa did not believe in happily-ever-afters. At least, not for her. The fact was, she simply was not lucky when it came to the opposite sex.

  Hmph. She huffed out a breath and put her hands on her hips. Isa would simply have to make do with what she had. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d substituted one ingredient for another.

  The absence of the vervain bothered her, but what could be the worst thing to happen? She didn’t like changing things on the fly, but every good Witch knew improvisation was sometimes a must.

  Isadora grumbled to herself as she paced her workshop. She gathered what she would need and collected herself before beginning. The altar where she performed her spells was spotless as usual. The counter where she chopped herbs and brewed potions was only slightly messier.

  Hmm, what to do. She looked over her workspace. This room was off limits to everyone but herself. Every Witch had a special place where she or he brewed and concocted potions, spells, scrying and more. This was hers. Isa’s own sacred space. Where she crafted and created her spells and drew upon her small cache of magic.

  All magic was finite. There was so much in the universe and it could be bequeathed, bought, and sometimes even stolen. She’d inherited hers through traditional means. That is, from her own grandmother, the original Madame Hazel.

  For Isa, her workspace was more private than her bedroom. Though, truth be told, that hadn’t seen many visitors lately either. Another reason she was so out of sorts.

  Isadora had never been good with men. At least not in particular. She liked them. Liked sex. But having failed one too many times at relationships, she tended to steer far away from that sort of thing. Even the occasional hookup wasn’t worth the trouble of having to deal with men. Not anymore.

  She had a drawer full of toys and plenty of imagination to take the edge off when it was called for. And she had her work of course.

  The shop took up most of her time, and like anything that was imbued with magic, it flourished under her attention. She’d painted the entire place with marble textured paint in varying shades of blue, off white, and golds. It made her think of the sky, the universe, and creation in general. Very good for crafting.

  It made her not feel so cooped up. She felt free, like she was floating. She’d always loved looking at the clouds.

  Goddess, she would kill for a skylight in her bedroom. She’d always wanted one. It must be nice to watch the rain or snow fall from the heavens while she lay in bed wrapped in the arms of someone she loved.

  Sigh. That was one of her most secret, deepest wishes.

  Someday, she told herself.

  She’d found the most amazing solid hand carved shelves, made from sun-bleached wood for her store. Isa loved them and it showed. She cared for the furniture with beeswax and lemon oil. There were fifteen in all, but one was damaged when it had been delivered, and it was now in the storage closet still waiting to be fixed.

  Someday, she thought again.

  There were cloths and crystals strewn about, all for promoting positive effects on her busy mind and body. She sold things like candles, books, bath salts, crystal charms and pendants along with her spells and potions.

  Her old space in the city was a lot more cramped. This was much better for her energy flow and for her peace of mind. She was so grateful the day the Morrigan herself had stepped into her little shop and told her about this place.

  All Witches knew of Sherry Morgan, now that she was mated it was technically Sherry Morgan McAllister of course. She was probably the most powerful Witch the world had seen in an age. But that wasn’t why Isa loved her.

  No, she appreciated Sherry as a Witch, but she loved her as a friend. Being mentored by her was a bonus. It was because of Sherry that Isadora had finally found a home in Maccon City. The apartment above her shop was perfect for the curvy, curly headed Witch. Especially since she chose to live sans Coven.

  Isa didn’t exactly work well with others and preferred to keep to herself. Maccon City was sort of a haven for Witches who did not wish to join covens or groups. A fact she loved about the beachfront town.

  Plus, she had an ocean v
iew! Well, if she stuck her head out the window and stared really hard between the two high rises that had only recently been built, then she had an ocean view.

  Whatever. It totally counted in her book. With Sherry’s encouragement, Isa had set up her fun little aromatherapy and occult shop right in the center of town. The older building was perfectly sound. She’d bought it from an older man who was retiring to Florida and used the money she’d inherited, along with some magic, from her grandparents.

  She really missed Nana and Pop. They’d raised Isa after her own parents had seemed uninterested in their magically inclined child. Magic sometimes skipped a generation. Her grandmother had been a gifted Witch, but her mother, well, not so much.

  That didn’t matter now. She had her shop and her apartment and her building just got a new roof. Things were great. So far, the teen set had been her biggest customers and she was not complaining. The little rascals were mainly interested in things like dreamcatchers, crystals, and the special of the day, love spells and potions.

  Was it criminal for her to want to add a little zing to their cutesy little high school day? Of course not. So, yeah, Isa might have gone a little far this year. She might have created a spell or two and a potion or three with some magical properties instead of the usual feel-good tonic she brewed.

  These girls wanted Valentine’s dates to the high school dance tonight, but according to one of the leaders of the click, the boys were too busy with video games to ask them. So Isa had no choice but to help them! A little chant here and a drop of potion there, and these girls would have their romance alright.

  She supposed she was breaking one or two laws of magic, but they were little laws, weren’t they? Besides, this was not for personal gain. She refused their money in exchange for her little Valentine’s booster charms. But they were free to buy candles and stuff for a ten percent discount along with their free love spells.

  Hmm. She should just close early. Get some takeout. But she had one more spell to finish. Without the vervain for clarity in purpose, she was out a sort of key ingredient.

  She could try the rose petals and lavender to focus the spell on Brian Taylor, the boy little miss Edith Hart had her mind set on for the dance tonight, but she couldn’t be sure of the result.

  Oh well. It wasn’t going to last long anyway. Red petals should work just fine, a little dried lavender, and maybe instead of the three-inch votive candles she could use six?

  Okay, she supposed it would be fine. Isadora took her phone and scrolled to the image of Brian, giggling slightly at the gangly teen with glasses and freckles. Cute. She shook her head, still smiling. She focused on one large red petal. This would be the charm young Edith needed to carry with her tonight to ensure Brian asked her to dance. With that in mind she started her chant.

  “Here goes,” she said aloud, “Goddess of love, here my plea-”

  Ping! Isadora looked down when her phone buzzed mid-spell. Ugh. Another advertisement for The Thirsty Dog’s annual Valentine’s Day party flashed across the screen. Isa rolled her eyes. She hated that place.

  Too many sexy Shifters with no common courtesy. Damn horndogs! Every single one of them. She shook her head and refocused, continuing with the love spell.

  “Goddess of love, here my plea,

  Find the boy, give strength to he,

  To ask the hand of the maiden she,

  As I will so mote it be.”

  Lightning crashed as she uttered the last syllable and the curtains blew inwards with a sudden gust of wind. Her phone fell to the floor and she jumped to catch it, losing sight of the rose petal in all the chaos.

  “Oh no,” she groaned looking around the floor for the thing. It just wasn’t there. Shit.

  “Ms. Hazel?” She recognized Edith’s voice from the front of the shop. It was where she’d told the girl to wait while she crafted her little love charm. Only everything had gone sideways.

  “Damn,” refocusing her powers and mental energies, Isadora grabbed another handful of ingredients. Without breaking focus she finished crafting a perfectly simple little charm for Edith that would bolster Brian’s courage in asking her to the dance.

  “Ms. Hazel?”

  “Edith,” she smiled as she walked through the door to the front of the shop and greeted the girl.

  “Ms. Hazel, I am so glad to see you! Do you have it?”

  “Here you are, dear. Just keep this petal in your pocket and it should do the trick,” she winked at the teenager.

  The girl jumped up and down, giving Isa a quick hug before she ran out the door. Now for the tricky part. Isadora grabbed her cell and dialed her mentor.

  “Sherry? I have a slight situation.”

  Chapter 1

  “Jordan, bring up another case of Mason’s latest will you?” Claire Bellamy, Mike’s mate and now co-owner of The Thirsty Dog, called from the back room.

  “Sure,” he responded and bounded down the steps to the liquor cellar after a case of Cupid’s Bite.

  This latest creation of the renowned artisan whiskey distillery, Mason Lane’s Bite label, was a hit with the supernatural crowd. The whole line of locally crafted whiskies was superb in Jordan’s opinion.

  Cupid’s Bite was a combination of dark chocolate and cherry flavors instilled in the smooth superior drink. Perfect for the holiday.

  Jordan didn’t even breathe heavy as he lifted the case and sat it in his shoulder. As a Werewolf with the Macconwood Pack, he was more than capable of handling a measly little case of spirits.

  Another Valentine’s Day bartending at The Thirsty Dog and Jordan still had not found a mate. He’d had more than his share of women, but he was tired of the game. And of course, he was tired of being groped and grabbed by the women who frequented the bar. He was always polite to the customers, but no meant no even when coming from him.

  Jordan dropped half the case off at the back bar, then proceeded to fill the shelf at the front. He sure missed Fred at a time like this. That she-Wolf could invent cutesy custom named drinks in a flash. But she was mated to a Dragon now and a mom of two if he wasn’t mistaken. He was happy for his ex-co-worker. Truly. He was just also a little jealous. So he wanted his own happily ever after. What was wrong with that?

  “Hey good-looking,” he tensed as he heard the voice behind him.

  Gayle was a new waitress at The Thirsty Dog and she’d been coming on so strong he swore she was in heat or something. Mike tended to hire only supernaturals for the sake of keeping everyone in the loop, though they served normals and supes alike at the Jersey Shore hotspot.

  This Cougar was about twice Jordan’s age, not that you could tell, but still. He’d said no since the first time she’d come on to him and she was still going strong.

  “The name is Jordan, Gayle. What can I get you?”

  “You know what I want from you, baby,” she cooed.

  “Gayle? Your order please,” he was in no mood for games.

  “Fine, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” she slipped him the written order and proceeded to ogle his ass while he made the drinks.

  “You know, I don’t know why you won’t reconsider, baby. I can make it worth your while,” Gayle said in what he was sure she thought was a sexy drawl, but all it did was turn his stomach.

  “Gayle you have another table. Jordan, everything good?” Mike walked over and narrowed his eyes at the way the new waitress was draped over the bar.

  At least she had the good sense to straighten herself out, Jordan mused while he poured.

  “Here you go. Two Love Bites, a chocolate porter, and a glass of chardonnay.”

  “Thanks,” she winked and walked back to her table.

  “She still coming on to you, man?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah. And I’m still saying no,” he shook his head.