Phoenixcry: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Rogue Witch Book 1) Read online

  Phoenixcry

  #1 in The Rogue Witch: A Reverse Harem Romance

  K.T. Strange

  Copyright © 2018 by KT Strange

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For more information:

  http://kstrange.com

  [email protected]

  Book Design: Heart Candies Publishing

  Cover design: Ciaran Strange

  Photography: Curtis Noble curtisnoblephotography.com

  Model: Becca Briggs beccabriggs.com

  Contents

  Stay in touch!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Book 2 in The Rogue Witch Series

  Phoenixfall - Chapter 1

  Welcome to the real world. It sucks. You’re gonna love it!

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  About the Author

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  One

  It’s hot, sticky early-September days that made me wish I was a better weather witch. As it was, I could barely spark up my fingers with electric shocks, let alone bring the rains. The truth is, I left the world of spells and potions behind almost three years ago, and haven’t looked back since. Even if I could have conjured up a little rain-storm to break the heat which had fallen over Seattle, I probably wouldn’t have. Suffering through the heat made me more of a mundane, like a regular person, who didn’t do magic and didn’t even know it existed. And as far as I was concerned, putting as much distance between me and my past life in the magical world was a bigger priority than not melting.

  Besides, it wasn’t so bad. I was laying on the floor next to the lower bunk, with the fan pointed right at me, a hand-out from my earlier class in one hand, and a spray bottle in the other. The spray-bottle acted like a cooling mister when I pointed it at the fan and squirted. Who needed a wand and some fancy spell words when you had a cheap spray bottle from the Dollar Tree?

  “Ugh. I hate leg day,” my roommate commented as she kicked open the door to our dorm, and glared at the bunk beds that rested against the wall. “Why did I have to pick the top bunk?” she asked. “My glutes are screaming at me.”

  Max, or as she refused to be called, Mackenzie, had been my roommate for the last three years of my college experience at the private liberal arts school, Westerin Academy, and so far, the only person who knew of my abilities and a little bit of my background. She was the best friend a witch like me could ask for and I treasured her. Except when she was incessantly complaining over her choice of beds.

  “Because you hate sleeping in a cave and it makes you think you’re in a coffin,” I reminded her as I flipped through the papers I was holding, not bothering to look up in time to see the grimace on Max’s face. “You know I’m right,” I said. She growled under her breath and proceeded to strip down to her underwear, rooting around one of the matching set of dressers for a fresh pair of pajama pants. Max lived for lounge wear. I did too. It’s why we made such great roommates. There was a no-pants-required rule in our room that had gotten us labeled as ‘dykes’ for one semester, but considering the pantless freedom I had enjoyed that spring, I hadn’t cared. Life was better without pants.

  “You sound more chipper than you ought to. Did you get a new broomstick?” Max teased, and I could feel the hot gaze of her suspicion on me. She hadn’t believed me, on the whole ‘yo I’m a witch, for reals’ thing, until I’d shot sparks out of my fingertips during a jump-scare at the freshman haunted house. Now she took almost every opportunity to tease me about it, especially because I wouldn’t cast magic in front of her. I looked up with a smile.

  “I got my internship placement today,” I said, waving the papers in the air. Max’s eyes lit up, and she proved once again, why she was the most awesome friend ever.

  “Oh shit! Oh shit, did you score? Of course you scored, you’re smiling. If you were frowning it would have meant you got your last choice—” Max babbled as she yanked open her top drawer. “This calls for a Terry’s Chocolate Orange in celebration of such a momentous occasion.” She pulled out the foil-wrapped globe and smashed it on the top of the dresser with a, “Ha!”

  I couldn’t contain my laughter as she peeled the foil back, and I shot her a mischievous grin.

  "I thought those were your after-sex-snacks?" I didn't bother waiting for her response and grabbed a wedge of chocolate. The creamy flavor exploded on my tongue and I had to stop myself from groaning.

  "Craig's busy and won't be coming up next weekend," Max answered with a shrug. Craig was her boyfriend, who was still living back in their home-town and refusing to answer the siren call of 'that money pit you guys call a school' while he worked as a mechanic's apprentice. "Plus when I tell him what I sacrificed it for, he'll understand. He likes you, Darce, so don't sweat it. He won't hold a grudge." She wrinkled her nose as the citrus-chocolate hit the back of her mouth, like she always did with anything that had the slightest hint of sour in it.

  "He better not. I'm the one minding his girlfriend for Boozy Tuesdays at La Grille and Shot Study Nights," I pointed out, sneaking another segment of chocolate orange.

  "I study better when indulging in alcohol," Max said, protesting my description of our educational existence which revolved around liquor. "It's not my fault you have to abstain cause of your finger wiggling."

  I glared at her.

  "Just for that," I said, scooping the rest of the chocolate out of the foil and into my hands. "I told you no teasing about the sobriety."

  Max stared, her eyes wide as I scooted across the floor and out of her reach.

  "I'm sorry," she said, not sounding it.

  "Uh uh," I replied, another segment making its way to my mouth with no hesitation.

  "I'm seriously sorry, Darcy, I swear," she insisted, holding out her hand. "C'mon. That's not fair. I didn't mean to mock your self-enforced sober stat—"

  "If I drink what happe
ns?" I picked up a segment and inspected it, as if considering how best to devour it.

  "You lose control of yourself and fry every circuit in the building," Max said, her eyes watching my hand. I swear, she was like a puppy when it came to food.

  "Right. And it's crappy and I hate it, so please don't remind me. Besides, don't you want to hear about my internship placement?" I asked as I passed her a segment as a peace offering. She accepted it with a happy little moan and nodded.

  "Tell me. Tell me. So was it? XO?" she asked around a mouthful of chocolate.

  "No that's The Weeknd's label. This is XOhX Records, and yes they were my first choice, and I don't know how, but they accepted me." I stared down at the handout that lay discarded on the ground, a flutter of nervous excitement starting up in my belly.

  Modern day witches were a lot more subtle than their medieval counterparts, but just because we’re further removed from mundane society didn't mean we ignored it entirely. I'd spent my tween years bopping around to Paramore, Panic!, Blink, and other emo bands at least until my mother put a stop to it and fried all of my CDs when I wouldn't practice piano. Music had been a part of my life since I could remember, and once I was let loose in the world, my obsession had only grown. Max had helped in that area, scoring us tickets to the hottest local indie acts that rolled through campus. When it was time for me to declare my major, studying music marketing had been an obvious choice since I wasn't exactly going to pursue a career as a classical pianist. That would have thrilled my mother even if she was royally pissed I'd left the witch world behind.

  "I know how they accepted you," Max said, slinging her arm around my shoulders and squeezing me in tight against her. At 5'8", and built like a pin-up girl with long, thick red hair and a perfectly adorable freckled complexion, Max dwarfed my much shorter and smaller frame. We couldn't share clothes (well not pants anyway), or shoes, but she was as close as I was going to get to having a sister-like relationship with anyone since bailing on my family. We had tried pretending we were real sisters once, at an arcade for a ‘bring your fam-jam to play and get free credits’ day, but they’d taken one look at her red hair and rockabilly figure and compared it to my dark waving hair and more girl-next-door look. Let’s just say we didn’t get our free-play credits that day. "They accepted you cause you're freaking smart, and organized, and dedicated, plus your TA has the hots for you and wrote you that wicked letter of recommendation." She smirked.

  "Hey! I earned that letter of rec," I protested. I had, too. I'd volunteered, spending hours every weekend for a month straight, organizing the CD collection and documents of our professor, Doctor Wilde. The woman had multiple degrees and couldn't alphabetize to save her life.

  “Yeah. You earned it with your ass in those yoga pants you like to wear,” Max said, rolling her eyes, but the smile on her face told me she wasn’t actually mad at me. She couldn’t be or risk being a hypocrite. She’d used her boobs to get out of more than one citation for under-age drinking on campus. “But seriously, you should be totally proud of yourself and your accomplishments. Just think, three years ago, you were a tiny shrimp, unaware of the big wide human world—”

  “I was not unaware—” I broke in but Max ignored me.

  “Not even understanding how to do your own laundry—”

  “We do laundry, we just have, uh, servants for that . . .”

  “Uh huh. There you were, Little Miss Rich Witch, afraid and alone, and who was there to take you under her wing, introduce you to all the ins and outs of the real world, but your bestie, Maxy,” Max said and gave me another tight squeeze before letting me go when I started to gasp for air.

  Making a show of falling over and struggling to breathe, I crawled away from her and got up on my knees.

  “You really gotta tone down the spell casting references,” I said. “You used to be so good at not saying anything at all. What happened?”

  Max started rubbing her long legs, working her thumbs into the tight muscles with a grumble.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I think I’m just getting a little . . . I dunno. It’s our last year. I’m going to barely see you since you’re interning at a record label, and I’m, well, not. Maybe because this is the only thing that we have that’s special I’m kinda clinging onto it,” Max’s voice dipped and dropped off and I frowned. Max was anything but insecure, if anything, she could be a little over-the-top in love with herself but not in a bad way, because she loved everyone around her as much as she did herself. She’d never expressed any doubts about our friendship before, not even when I’d accidentally locked her out of the dorm and she’d had to sleep on the bench down the hall in our second year until the RA let her in.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. The corners of Max’s lips tugged down as she finally met my eyes and shrugged. “Seriously, me interning isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Except we won’t have any classes together,” she pointed out.

  “We didn’t have any classes together last year,” I argued, feeling a well of panic opening up inside me. Max was my best friend, and pretty much the only person in the world that knew me in and out anymore. I couldn’t say the same about my family since they’d been gone from my life from the night I snuck out of the Llewellyn compound and ran away to attend mundane college.

  “I know I’m being selfish,” Max admitted, “and I know you told me that your finger-twiddling is top secret, and there’s dangers, and all that stuff and I get it. I’m used to keeping dangerous secrets. I’m just scared you’ll get some super cool, fancy-pants rockstar buddies at the record label and then you’ll forget all about Max and midnight chocolate chip cookie raids.”

  She looked so forlorn and small, which was a feat for her, that any bubbling anger which was building vanished.

  “You’re not selfish,” I said, shifting across the carpet to envelop her in a hug. She hugged me back instantly. “I get it, and I promise, if I get any super cool rockstar buddies, I will totally invite you along to party.”

  “As long as you don’t tell Craig,” she mumbled into my wavy hair. It was probably doing a good job of suffocating her, but for once she didn’t complain.

  “Not a word to Craig about our exploits and shenanigans,” I swore. “Witch’s honor.” I pulled back and offered her my pinkie. She stared at it and then narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Is that even a thing?” she asked. I bit my lip, and she snorted. “Lying bitch. I love you.” Her finger hooked around mine and we shook on it. “But whatever, even if it was a thing, you probably couldn’t swear to it, since according to you, you’re the ‘worst witch in the world ever I swear Maxy and that’s why I can’t magic off that freshman fifteen from your ass’,” she finished.

  I rolled my eyes and got to my feet.

  “Even if I was amazing, I promise you, there is no way I could magic away all those donuts you ate. That isn’t a thing. I was a lightning witch. Electricity. If I tried to zap your ass, you’d probably end up in the hospital,” I said as I gathered up my things into my backpack for my meeting with the internship coordinator in the morning.

  “Hmmph,” was all Max said for a long moment before she sighed. “You’re probably right. I still haven’t forgiven you for frying my last iPhone.”

  I shook my head.

  “I warned you that I’m not very good, but you wanted me to try to charge it anyway.”

  “I was desperate. I didn’t have my battery pack or my extra charging cable. And—and you’d charged it just the week before perfectly fine,” she said, her voice plaintive. I lifted up some sheets on my desk.

  “Yeah that was a fluke,” I replied. “You want a real witch, you can go hang out with my mom and my sister. Except you don’t want that. They’d hate you for not being magical and then ignore you for the rest of the evening while you had to choke down crappy hors d'oeuvres. Trust me, it’s the worst. Have you seen—” I couldn’t find my laptop charger anywhere.

  Max sighed and f
ished it out of her bag without a second word.

  “Sorry I forgot to tell you I borrowed it this morning,” she said, her face sheepish. I rolled my eyes but smiled.

  “You’re going to need to be more organized. What happens when we graduate and you don’t have me to rely on for chargers, and tissues and lip balm?” I asked. Max looked horrified.

  “You mean we’re not moving into a swanky two bedroom apartment in the heart of New York so you can pursue your music career and I can convince Craig to finally move to the big city?” She shook her head. “Never mind, don’t answer that. We’re going to get pancakes, and bacon. Bacon-pancakes. Right now, to celebrate your big internship win.” She grabbed her coat and passed me mine.

  “You just want to take the focus off your power-cable stealing ways,” I said, but she cheerily ignored me with a wave of her hand.

  “Pancakes, Llewellyn, pancakes. Stick to the topic at hand.” She wrapped an arm through mine and dragged me physically out of the dorm. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Two

  “Hey girl, you're gonna be mega late,” Max’s voice broke through my dreams and I sat upright with a gasp.

  “Oh god, what time is it?” My heart was thundering in my chest and I flung myself from bed, my legs uncertain and threatening to give out under me at any moment.