The Wiccan Kitten-Now Available
Contemporary Salem witch Freyja Amador must cast a spell to save the ghost cat haunting her apartment from her landlord's exorcism. Unfortunately, her spell's success can only be guaranteed through sex magick. She needs a man. And she believes she has just met the perfect one.
Shane Logan, however, has troubles of his own. Operating under a centuries-old faerie curse, Shane must find a woman who can fall in love with him in just three days -- and having sex is not an option.
Will they both get what they need before time runs out on Halloween?
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"Oh what a sensuous and stunning story! Susanne Saville puts a lot of story into this short but delectable tale. Shane’s history is heart wrenching and the dilemma he finds himself in seems hopeless. Who couldn’t help but fall in love with Shane right along with Freyja? Shane is simply the ideal romantic hero and Susanne Saville injects exactly the right heat level to make THE WICCAN KITTEN appealing to any paranormal romance fan!"
- 5 Klovers - "Highly Recommended!" - Debbie, ck2s Kwips and Kritiques
"The Wiccan Kitten is a very well done short story! Sometimes an author can’t quite convince me that a relationship can develop that fast in a short story but this one works great!... The story is humorous, charming, and definitely twisted. I loved it!"
- 5 Angels! - Stephanie B., Fallen Angel Review
"As you read, you can feel the insecurities of Freyja coming through her dialogue and actions and you could only rally for her that she finds someone that she could fall in love and have sex with on Halloween night – which by the way is only two days away. When Shane Logan enters the picture, you can feel the sparks flying around these two. ... This is definitely a fun Halloween read that will tickle your fancy any time of year. I would definitely recommend it to other readers and I look forward to reading more from this author."
- Diana Coyle, Night Owl Romance Reviews
Thursday, October 29th
"Hey, Kitten, I’m home." Freyja Amador stood at the threshold of her unlit apartment, her fingers resting upon the cold brass doorknob, and waited. Light from the communal hallway made a weak attempt to penetrate the blackness of her rooms and failed. Which was exactly how she wanted it.
He only replied in the dark.
She waited a moment longer, heart thumping in the silence of her held breath. It was so quiet. Not even the tick of a clock.
A waft of air, chilly as a New England winter, licked across her hand. The skin on her arms and the back of her neck prickled with goose bumps. Any moment she would receive her answer.
An eerie meow wafted out of the darkness.
Reaching inside for the light switch, Freyja snapped on the old-fashioned hanging lamp with its onion-shaped glass globe, to reveal her empty living room. Well, it wasn’t empty of furniture. Nor of books. She had plenty of books. And there were also plenty of dust bunnies, truth be told. Unlike television’s Samantha Stevens, around whose statue tourists clustered in downtown Salem, real witches couldn’t wriggle out of housework with a wiggle of their nose. But there was one thing totally absent from her apartment—a cat.
Or rather, no living cat resided here.
The ancient floorboards beneath her worn carpet creaked as she left the door and crossed to the center of the living room. "Meow to you, too, Baby Cat," she announced to the area at large.
The ghost probably wasn’t a kitten. He could shift chairs when he wanted to. She had seen her kitchen chair squeak and stutter into a reel on the linoleum like a little, invisible bull was pushing against one of its legs. So he was probably an eighteen-pound, Maine Coon tomcat. Nevertheless she thought of him as her kitten.
"I heard that," a cultured male voice chided from behind her.