Saturday, October 29, 2011

Giveaway - Moon Magick

I was born in a place where a belief in the Supernatural is entirely normal. A Wishing Moon is a product of my culture and my background. It was nothing for people on my street to attend Mass in the morning and make a mojo bag in the afternoon. So I wear gems to give me energy and burn candles when I really want a wish to come true - hey, I've done it all my life. It's my way.

To share a little of my magick - I have some earrings to give away with genuine gemstones. I will also be giving away copies of my ebook.

Here's another excerpt.

If you would like to enter the contests for the book or the jewelry - leave a comment on one of the articles.

Excerpt - Fighting back unpleasant memories, Arabella turned her mind to the sweet prospect of reuniting with her dream lover. When it came time to go to bed, Arabella got ready for sleep as if she were preparing for a date, or more truthfully, a romantic interlude. She had bathed in scented water and pampered her body with lotions and creams. Pulling every trick she could think of out of her magical bag of tricks, she had constructed a dream pillow of purple cotton and stuffed the small square with lavender and mugwort. Mugwort, known as the witch’s herb, filled not only the dream pillow, but she also used the herb to make smudge sticks and walked about her bedroom letting the smoke fill every nook and cranny. Two bundles of lavender hung from the bedposts and she enjoyed a cup of tea made from the same two herbs. Angelique had taught her that if you don’t usually dream, mugwort will help you dream. If you can’t remember your dreams, the herb will allow you to recall more details than you normally would. People who usually remember their dreams can also use mugwort to dream consciously, in other words, to be able to control your actions while dreaming. The latter was Arabella’s intent; she wanted her dream to be as real as possible.

Despite all the work she’d put into her dreamtime, sleep took forever to come. The events of the day had been unsettling. The disappearance of Kathy McLemore and her daughter had put a damper on Arabella’s spirits and the whole atmosphere of her usually happy home.

Arabella lay restlessly, trying everything she could think of to hurry the onset of sleep. The more anxious she became, however, the more elusive slumber proved to be. Finally, she gave in, turned on the light and reached for a book. Maybe she could read herself into her dream lover’s arms. After a few pages of a mystery, drowsiness began to set in. Arabella laid the book down and turned over on her side to face the sketchpad propped on her nightstand. The light of the moon shone on his beautiful face. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier, slowly she willed herself back to the dream state in which she’d encountered her intriguing companion.

A strong wind began to blow and the cry of a hawk floated on the air current. The brisk breeze picked her hip length, dark hair up and caused the black curtain to whip around her face. She looked around to try and recognize where she was standing. A sense of familiarity dawned on her. She recognized this hill, a dome actually. Arabella stood on the top of a pink granite mountain near her home called Enchanted Rock. She’d not been there in years, but when she attended high school this had been a favorite place to hike and picnic.

A noise startled her, and just as she started to turn, warm hands slid around her waist from the back. They slipped underneath the silk nightie and moved over her breasts, cupping them gently. Recognition flooded her body as did a total welcoming.

“Hello, beautiful. I’m so glad you came.” Still holding her securely, he eased her back against him. His hands began a slow dance over her swollen, sensitive breasts. Her nipples hardened and became diamond points of sensitivity. His fingers circled, massaged, lifted and teased the grateful mounds of flesh. Weakness flooded her lower regions and she felt as if his hands on her body were the only thing tethering her to the earth.

She raised her arms over her head and found his face, moving her fingers over his features as if memorizing them by touch. She tried to shift in his arms so they were face to face, but he kept her anchored where she stood. He continued to make love to her breasts with his hands, a steady circling, rubbing rhythm that ended every few moments at the end of her nipples, slowly distending them before beginning the sensual ritual all over again.

“That feels so good,” she panted. Her world condensed, until the manipulation of her breasts and nipples became the focus of her universe. An intense heat began building and adding to her torment, his lips and tongue began kissing the curve of her throat and shoulders. A tightening began in her vagina and even though he never touched her there, her slit began to dew in delightful anticipation. Never before had she known so much joy could be gained from touch alone. When the shivers began, his hands finally moved lower and slid beneath her silken panties to find the hot waiting folds, which vibrated ecstatically to his lightest touch. Her hips jerked uncontrollably as she rode his hand, tiny mewls of passion escaping from her lips.

Flushed with release, Arabella relaxed completely into his big, hard body. With a slight pressure, he turned her around and captured her lips with his. As she touched his waist, attempting to gain access to his manhood, his hands grasped hers intertwining their fingers.

“Not enough time,” he whispered. A vacuum of pressure seemed to pull him backward. “Find me.” These final words were spoken as the wind picked up once more and the night enclosed them in nothingness.

When day broke Arabella found dampness on her pillow. She had cried during the night, after he had gone. Her greatest regret was the fact she did not have any more information now than she had yesterday. Guilt tormented her, if she could have just kept her head about her and talked to him she could have asked questions. But his touch had been so intoxicating, she hadn’t been able to keep her mind on anything but how he was making her feel. The only clue she could remember was the location—Enchanted Rock. What significance the pink granite mountain had, she did not know.

Despite the disappointment in her failure to garner his name or anything else about him, she felt absolutely wonderful. Her reaction to this man went beyond anything she had ever considered herself capable of feeling. At his slightest caress, she had been primed for passion. Arabella couldn’t comprehend what an actual physical encounter with him would be like, but she had hopes of one day finding out.

She went through her morning regime on automatic, considering what step to take next. Could it be her destiny to find him? Were her nighttime visions a precursor to a future meeting? Did he have any knowledge of her or were they just destined to meet in their dreams? Arabella pondered all of these questions in her heart and prayed the answers would bring her the happiness she’d been denied so long.

Here's the buy link and my website -

thanks for reading

Sable Hunter

1 comment:

Na said...

Hi Sable. Thank you for the excerpt. I found it vivid and nciely detailed. I grow up fascinated by magic and ghosts even though where I live such things is more for the imaginative. People tend to be non-beleiver until they see for themselves but not me. I believe though I have never seen a ghost or witnessed magic.