Three Mages And A Margarita Novels & Stories

It was hand written. She went on, flipping the book and stopping to read through some parts of it. It was a book about spells and she found herself laughing at the silliness of the thought that magic was still in existence. Some of the spells in the book made Matilda to shake her head and conclude that the book had been written during the time that witches existed. Some of the recipes in the book had ingredients like a two day old crow's blood, the crushed bark of a cider tree, four leaved clovers, mint leaves that had bloomed in the summer and many other bizarre ingredients.

Things had happened so fast today, and I was still trying to catch up on exactly how I ended up here with a werewolf and a werecat. My shoulders slump. Margarita was dead. Dead because of me and I had no idea where or how Gregorio was. Was he worried about me? Did he know Margarita was dead – they weren’t mates, and I didn’t know if they had imprinted on each other or not. “Come down when you are ready Morgan, we will have dinner and maybe we can all answer some questions. I’m sure there are things you would like to know. Just as much as there are things, we need to ask you.” He smiled kindly; no malicious intent was detected at all.

But, Margot shouldn’t know that I know. “Do you mind?” I ask, stretching my arms and faking sleepiness. “I think I’m going to turn in. Like Mahl, I’ve had enough beer to make me want to end my day early.” Margot nods and stands, leaving her pamphlet and the chocolates on the bed. “I’m leaving you those, too,” she says, pointing over at the table by the door. “The green one – pistachio – is very good for hangovers.” She winks at me. “I never give Mahl those.”

The music felt like it was shaking the walls of the house and as we moved through the aisle that led to different rooms, coming in contact with a few of the partygoers making out, I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. I pulled to a stop and Margo turned to face me. "Where are we going... I don't think" I started and Margo gave an exasperated sigh. "You really need to take this way more seriously since you're the one who's in love here," she said then eyed my drink. "Why haven't you drunk that... You're such a party popper" I stared at the solo cup in my hand then back at Margo. "What are you waiting for, toss it back. This is Miguel's painting room, he's in there right now. This is your cha

Their presence was raw power—wild, magnetic, impossible to ignore. They looked nearly identical, yet not the same. They were definitely triplets. And they had just called me—me—their mate. My knees wobbled as I tried to stand. The strength I had borrowed from them only moments ago was already slipping away. My legs trembled, and I nearly crumpled again when one of them—the one with piercing green eyes—stepped forward quickly. His hand was half-raised to catch me. “No,” I rasped. I lifted my palm in warning before he could touch me. My pride, my dignity, wouldn’t allow it. “Don’t.”

I quickly pushed the door closed, unhooked the chain, and reopened it wide to allow them inside. "Come on through," I ushered them down the hallway towards the lounge, where everyone had now perched themselves tensely on the various sofas and armchairs. Greg and Tia had just returned from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with salt-rimmed glasses filled with Tia's signature, perfectly mixed Margaritas. I grabbed one from the tray the second they set it down and knocked half of it back in a single, burning gulp. The sharp, fruity alcohol hit my bloodstream instantly.

We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either. Margaret was wearing a chartreuse gown embroidered with lily pads. The Beta’s wife’s name is Lily. Margaret has striking features. Her skin is the color of a summer elk. Her hair falling around her face in large chestnut brown ringlets. She has almond shaped chocolate brown eyes. “All these girls talking like they never heard the Epic of Cordelia.” Margaret quietly and snarkily said. “Right? A slave mating to the Kingdom of the Moon is a death sentence.” I responded dryly.

The first place I headed was to the bartender, I knew it was going to take a lot to get through this night, and I needed all the help I could get. “Would you like a Lauren Lemon Drop or a Todd Tequila Shot?” “Are the only two things on the menu?” I asked. I shouldn’t be surprised that they had signature drinks named after themselves. The bartender gave me a sympathetic smile, “Or we have the Marry Me Margarita.” This was going to be a very long night. “A margarita then…” I walked away with my margarita in hand and joined a small group of people surrounding the life-size ice sculpture of Lauren and Todd.

"Gentlemen. I see I have some company today. I'm sorry I don't have enough vodka to make a pitcher of kamikazes." She calmly strode into their presence, her eyes darting between the men's pendulous cocks. As she looked around, Danielle noticed four pool chairs arranged in a strange pattern. One was in the usual place of her normal chair, the other three were pointing toward the one chair, and not in-line with the position of the sun. Richard was first to speak, "That's okay, Danielle, we brought margaritas." He motioned to the rather large thermos that contained the drink mix with a small cooler of ice. "On the rocks, of course!" "How nice! Thank you, Richard."

Deronda was in a seat alone while Margo ransacked the minibar. “Ah,” Margo echoed in victory as she raised a vodka bottle. She quickly unscrewed the cap. She was about to drink it right out of the bottle. “Hey get a glass,” Deronda chided. “You ain’t at home.” Margo grabbed a glass off the minibar. “Is there any scotch or gin over there, Margo baby?” Cootie asked. Margo grabbed an unopened bottle of scotch and a glass and passed it to Cootie.