Cherrie Mack Lover of Dominant Males & Snarky Heroines

A Late Summer Bloom-Witches Of The Bayou Excerpt

Excerpt:

Julien paced the length of the master suite. Ineffective in his plans to sway Giselle to trust him caused him much frustration. Maybe she doesn’t like to be yelled at. Covering his eyes with the heels of his hands, he tried rubbing away the self-induced headache coming on. Out of options and close to giving up, he needed to clear his mind. What was it about her that had him on edge all the time? Julien had to clench his fists every minute he was around her to remind himself of the anger. Otherwise, he found himself wanting to kiss her, protect her. And each moment he spent with her, it was getting harder to control. He had to fight it. It could cost the covens the war. He had to stay on the straight and narrow yet—something was pulling at the corners of his mind.

Julien thrust his balcony doors open and gust of cool air rushed inside the warm room. His eyes narrowed in disbelief as he stared out at the grounds of his estate.

Walking out onto the balcony for a good look, Julien couldn’t believe his eyes. The alley of oaks danced gloriously in the wind, their branches no longer drooping toward earth, but standing tall, in salute. His eyes scanned the grass, noticing its deep green hue. Shoots of honeysuckle could be seen making their way up toward the sun. As if the flowers knew what he was thinking, a soft breeze carried with it their scent. A smile, true and confident, emerged on his face. It was her presence. It had to be.

As he took in the beauty of a long dead past, he caught a glimmer of the dark-haired beauty walking on the path to Chantilly’s garden. Hmm. What’s she up to? He went back inside and changed into jeans. He slipped a white cotton tee-shirt over his head and headed down the stairs. Looking around his once decaying home, he realized it had been rejuvenated. Julien ran his fingers over the railing, the wood felt smooth and rich. There were no holes in the walls, no peeling paint, no cobwebs. The silver shined so bright, he could see his own reflection. Two days later and it was good as new? It has to be her.

Outside, he took in his surroundings. Were his eyes deceiving him? Anxious now to see Giselle, he walked toward Chantilly’s garden. Along the way, he heard her humming. It was a beautiful melody filled with warmth and joy. And it renewed his hope, for he now believed Giselle was indeed, the tenth power.

If only she believed it.

Standing in the gardens, he watched her lean over, inhaling the fragrance of each blossom. When she got close, the blooms stood taller, more vibrant in her presence. He couldn’t help but smile at her innocence as it hit him square in the gut. She really doesn’t see it. He watched her run afinger over an old wooden sign, its words unreadable.

Julien cleared his throat. “My sister’s garden.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. He jerked his chin toward the sign. “It’s supposed to say, my sister’s garden.”

Giselle cast her eyes away. “I’m so sorry about Joyal.”

Just hearing her name fired up his nerves, but he remained steady, discarding the unwelcome reminder. “No, I meant my sister, Chantilly. This garden was her gift to me.”

She smiled and he realized it was the first time he saw her show happiness.

Beautiful.

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s enchanted.”

He chuckled. “Yes, it is.”