The White Lady by Beth Trissel

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    Avery Dunham has always been ready to follow her friend, time-traveling wizard, Ignus Burke, on incredible adventures. This time, though, she has serious misgivings. It’s just one week before Christmas, but she cannot get him to change his mind .The usually cool and collected magic-wielding leader is wholly obsessed by the portrait of the White Lady whom he is bent on rescuing.

    Almost as soon as they begin their journey, it becomes clear their mission is a trap.

    Avery was right: this adventure is not going to be like any other.

    Rating: Sensual
    Page Count: 148
    Word Count: 34930
    978-1-5092-1659-8 Digital


    Avery had a few queries on the tip of her tongue, like, ‘Are you out of your freaking skull?’

    If she didn’t ask, Stan probably would. They’d graduated from high school this past June and worked part-time ‘nothing’ jobs, taking a break before college while finding their way, as Avery’s mother put it. Mostly, they were drawn to Ignus like moths to a flame, especially Avery. Not that he noticed.

    If only he’d look at her the way he did the white lady. More and more, the portrait seemed to dominate his thoughts. How could a petite, okay short, girl in a sparkly pink sweater and unicorn leggings compete with this tantalizing beauty?

    Avery wasn’t plain, some even referred to her as cute, but exotic didn’t describe her. Quirky, sure. She wouldn’t term her brown eyes deeply affecting, and her face wouldn’t compel men through centuries to her side. The best she could do was plead with him.

    “Ignus, be reasonable. Please.”

    No reply. He wore his stubborn look. Crossing his arms over a lean chest, he tilted his head to better view the femme fatale on the wall above them.

    The tousled brown hair covering his ears and forehead needed a trim. In his red Zombie Preparedness hoodie with a white rescue logo, gray dress pants, and white high-topped sneakers,he was the quintessential nerd. Most importantly, he was a wizard and time traveler with a passion for rescuing lost souls. His fervor for this particular lady was alarming.

    “Earth to Ignus,” Stan summoned, with no response. “Oh hell, you’re so off base, make it Mars.”

    Still nothing. Was he too entranced by the white lady to zing back a retort?

    Not like him.

    She and Stan exchanged glances. He detached himself from the disgruntled kitty and joined the others before the hearth on the richly pattered purple, gold, and blue Persian carpet. Physically, he and Ignus were similar, wiry and a little above average in height. Neither were beasts but plenty taller than she. The two could probably wear the same clothes. Not Stan’s style. His artistic temperament embraced eclectic secondhand finds like the brown pinstriped suit and Great Gatsby era hat covering his artificially reddened spiked hair.

    Lips drawn in skeptical lines, blue eyes intent behind a cool pair of black rimmed glasses, Stan studied the portrait consuming Ignus. His Scottish heritage showed in his pale, lightly freckled complexion and reddish-blond hair when it wasn’t colored bright cherry. He weighed their bewitched friend.

    “Eyes on me, dude.” He snapped his fingers in front of Ignus’ face, as if to break the spell. At his insistence, Boy Wonder, as Stan sometimes called him, shifted his reluctant gaze. “You already have a butler, a maid, and a clown from various eras living here, bro.”

    “Mom likes Mr. Silvestre and Miss Bloom. And Guy’s an excellent cook.” Ignus was adamant. “Seriously, who wouldn’t want them around?”


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The White Lady

The White Lady

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