She had everything most people dreamed about. She hated pills and refused to take them, positive the episodes would go away by her own sheer force of will. Maggie grabbed the raw irritation like a life vest and breathed deeply and evenly. She refused to have an attack on her own turf. The familiar edge of panic clawed her gut, but she fought back and managed to surface. more.ĭespair toppled over her like a cresting wave. Just a dull ache of emptiness and a longing for. She expected a sexual buzz when they finally touched-or at least a lousy shiver of promise. Why did she never feel a connection? This last one had been charming, intelligent, and easygoing. The demons threatened, and there was no one here to fight them back until dawn. A sliver of moonlight leaked through the cracks of the organic bamboo blinds. Maggie cursed under her breath and stared out the window. Of course, when her best friend, Alexa, cast her own spell, she’d been supportive and cheered her actions to find her soul mate. She picked it up again, leafed through the pages, and threw it back on the contemporary glass table. The violet fabric-covered book beckoned and mocked. She still had a shred of sanity left to question her actions. Tartness collided with the salt, exploded on her tongue, and burned through her blood. Maggie Ryan tilted the margarita glass to her lips and took a long swallow.
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