EXCERPT:

The words came to her like melting chocolate on her tongue, smooth, flowing, delicious. She wove the spell without following any ancient rite. This was her own non-denominational earth magic, and it just felt...right.

She wore red, of course, a flowing scarlet robe. This was a love spell, after all. Correction. A sex spell.

Rose petals circled her on the white down comforter, their fragrance perfuming the air. A marble tray in the center of her king-size bed served as her altar. She struck a match and lit the red candle. Then she held the tip of the incense stick to the flame. It sparked and glowed red. She blew on it, until a stream of vanilla scented smoke created shifting patterns in the air. Gareth's picture rested in a small silver chalice on the center of the tray, as did a slightly chewed toothpick.

She'd gone through extraordinary lengths to get that particular toothpick. The teeth marks were Gareth's, infused with his DNA. Adriana had hoped for a strand of hair, which seemed more traditional and...well...less gross, but short of walking up to him and yanking out a lock, an opportunity had never presented itself.

Gareth had nibbled the toothpick in the break room, then forgotten it on the counter. Adriana had waited for the small, stuffy room to clear out at the end of the lunch hour before she'd surreptitiously swept the object into her purse.

The vibrations from Gareth's very soul emanated from that tiny stick of wood. She knew it was the key to making this spell work.

The picture came from the bulletin board in the company lobby. It was a Polaroid that had been taken at the company picnic, tacked up to boost morale. Adriana suspected the only morale it had boosted was her own, when she'd pilfered it and cut all the faces away except for Gareth's.

She'd never considered herself a criminal, but desperate times call for desperate measures, as the saying goes. This was a desperate time. She was like Tinkerbell whose light was about to go out. She hadn't had sex in two years. Two years! It was inconceivable. She was an attractive, single woman, and without sex, her power leaked like battery acid, eroding her soul. She needed to plug herself into some serious booty.

She'd tried asking Gareth out on a date the old-fashioned way, but she'd discovered something about her sexy co-worker during that excruciating night. He was a Southern gentleman through and through, and he was achingly shy. She suspected the shyness was more the root problem than his gentlemanly chivalry. The more moves she'd tried on him, the more he'd backed away. She'd finally given up for the evening, already calculating Plan B.

This was Plan B.

"The moon is full, the time is right, send Gareth to me, to have sex tonight."