![\"\"](\"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/Spell200x300.jpg\")
<\/a><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nOr, Enjoy A Sneak Peek At Chapter One Of Spell Of Summoning<\/em><\/h5>\n\n\n\nCover Blurb<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Holden Clark walks into Rebecca Powell\u2019s life, a tall, blue-eyed stranger who stirs long forgotten desires. But nothing, including this man, is what it seems. A dark necromancer is targeting Becca for a full-blown demonic possession. She is thrust into a world she never knew existed\u2014a world where dark casters create chaos and necromancers talk to the dead.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nHolden has no faith in his power. A necromancer, he communicates with the dead, but he has never embraced his gifts. Now, he has no choice. He must stop the dark caster attacking Rebecca, but accepting this mission means he\u2019ll be delving into dangerous magics he\u2019s never used before.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nUnder the protection of the damaged and mysterious Holden, Rebecca will question everything \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nChapter One<\/h1>\n\n\n\n
April in North Carolina didn\u2019t have the sticky heat that would settle over the state during the summer months, but it was warm. Sweat tickled at the back of Holden Clark\u2019s neck. But not because of the weather. He\u2019d lied to a woman to get her here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Well, lie was a strong word. He\u2019d rather say he\u2019d persuaded a woman to join him for lunch under false pretenses. Because he wasn\u2019t a liar. In fact, he prided himself on his honesty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he couldn\u2019t think of any other way to get Rebecca Powell to meet him here. Telling her the truth over the phone was out of the question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Buster, Holden\u2019s yellow Labrador, sat up off the asphalt and whined at an approaching, slow-moving vehicle. This must be her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A silver Lexus pulled over and parked two spots down in the half-empty lot, giving Holden plenty of room to watch Rebecca Powell through her car windows. Grams was right. No doubt about it, the woman was under a summoning spell, and the demon trying desperately to break into their world clung to Ms. Powell\u2019s blonde hair and narrow shoulders like a filthy veil.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell her whatever you have to,\u201d Grams said, rounding the hood of his stripped-down 1979 Jeep. \u201cShe doesn\u2019t have much time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He leaned against the passenger door, his fingers tightening to the point of pain around Buster\u2019s long, braided leash. The air between him and Rebecca crackled with magical energy. The spell on her was no amateurish accident. It was stronger than anything he\u2019d ever experienced. Fear coiled inside him. He couldn\u2019t help her. No matter what his Grams said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With a flip of her hair, Rebecca rose from her car and smiled that big Realtor smile. She looked just like her photo on her website. Pretty, brown-eyed, and about his age, twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She wore her business attire\u2014curled hair, expensive jewelry, short skirt, and heels\u2014like battle armor. It all pronounced her professional, but friendly. Smart, but feminine. A tough southern girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Buster\u2019s ears perked up. Holden dug in his heels, but Buster was eighty-five pounds of overgrown puppy. He launched himself at Rebecca full force, as if he had springs for feet. The leash jerked out of Holden\u2019s hand, and before he could stop him, his dog scratched both her knees, untucked her white blouse, and slammed her against her car. It was Buster\u2019s version of a polite \u201cHow do you do? Is that a demon over your shoulder?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood Lord,\u201d she squealed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBuster, no!\u201d Holden wrapped both arms around the dog and lifted him clear off the ground to stop the assault. \u201cNot cool,\u201d he grumbled, setting the dog in the Jeep. He secured his leash to the steering wheel, giving him only enough slack to lie down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Holden said, turning to Miss Powell. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t hurt you. He wants to smell\u2014\u201d He almost said the demon.<\/em> \u201c\u2014you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nRebecca straightened her light blue skirt, one hand on the car for balance, and smiled, the perfect agent even with dog slobber on her arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe sure is friendly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She closed the distance between them and the air sizzled. She extended her hand for a shake, but her knees wobbled. The magic written all over her must be taking a toll. She listed to the side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden leapt to catch her before she fell, accepting the brunt of her weight against his chest. She was small and light as a bird, and she smelled like fruit and flowers and something even more delicious underneath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At her touch, a slice of him long frozen roared back to life. It had been so long since he\u2019d felt anything near to desire that he didn\u2019t immediately recognize the sensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cExcuse me,\u201d she chirped, wrestling free. \u201cI got light-headed for a sec. I\u2019ve been having migraines.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo problem.\u201d Holden brushed himself off, uncomfortable with so much physical contact. It had been months since he\u2019d been this close to a woman. And he\u2019d never been this close to a demon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m so embarrassed.\u201d Rebecca wiped at the worst of the dirt streaks on her skirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Blood bubbled up from a scratch above her knee. Holden pulled a mechanic\u2019s rag, the closest thing to a Band-Aid in the Jeep, from his glove box and offered it to her. If only he owned a first aid kit like a normal person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, thanks.\u201d She waved away his rag and handed him a fancy business card with her photo on it. The spell on her crackled, passing him a minor electrical shock. She must have felt it, too, because she snatched her hand back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMr. Clark,\u201d she said, \u201clet\u2019s get down to business. You said you wanted to sell your house, but you had some questions?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Right. His cover story. He\u2019d called and offered her a job, insisting on meeting her here at this strip mall for a lunch date at a little Mexican restaurant. But he had no intention of selling the farmhouse he\u2019d inherited from his grandparents. The ruse was the simplest way to get her to The Repository, a store that shared the same shopping center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUh. Yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She narrowed her eyes. \u201cDid you change your mind? Because I\u2019m not feeling very well all of a sudden. I could reschedule.\u201d She produced a cell phone and tapped on it. \u201cTo be honest, I\u2019m not taking any new clients right now. My associate, Jessa, though\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Grams appeared at his elbow. \u201cDon\u2019t even think about it, bubba.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How did she know he was half a second from accepting the out?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he mouthed. \u201cIt\u2019s worse than I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca glanced up. \u201cSorry?\u201d Her smile faltered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019d promised Grams to help Rebecca. He\u2019d actually said the words. But if Rebecca refused his help, it wasn\u2019t his fault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Might as well come clean. \u201cThe spell on you. It\u2019s worse than I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She cocked her head, a strand of honey-blonde hair sliding along her collar. \u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Buster whined and strained at his leash, rocking the Jeep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe possession spell,\u201d Holden said. \u201cThe demon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment she didn\u2019t react. Then, very calmly, she put away her phone and said, \u201cI understand.\u201d She straightened her shoulders and seemed to grow another three inches, though even in her towering heels she remained half a foot shorter than him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood to meet you,\u201d she said in a steely tone. \u201cHave a nice day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her first instinct was to dismiss anything to do with the supernatural, but he didn\u2019t have the luxury of denial. His whole life was one big supernatural tragedy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Grams adamantly shook her head at him. She\u2019d given him an ultimatum. Stop the demon from breaking through to their world, or she was leaving. For good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Last try, and then Grams would have to accept he\u2019d done all he could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden grabbed Rebecca by the wrist, stalling her. \u201cDon\u2019t you know someone is trying to possess you with a demon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fear flashed through Rebecca, momentarily obliterating the constant headache and the pain in her thighs from his devil dog. The man whose arms she\u2019d nearly fainted into was another lunatic. The third psychic in the last month. That must be some kind of record.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Holden didn\u2019t look like a Ouija-loving madman. First off, he showed up to a business lunch in jeans and a T-shirt. He was tall. And young, about her age. And way too handsome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fear morphed into anger, granting her strength. She locked eyes with his very, very blue ones. Quite distracting eyes, actually.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet me go. Now.\u201d She stared him down, willing him to release her without any further fuss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHear me out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d Becca palmed her cell with her free hand, her thumb poised to hit send on a 911 call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden stepped so close she caught his freshly laundered scent, but Rebecca held her ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHave you been seeing things? Having headaches? Does it seem like a haunting, except it\u2019s only around you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Did he read minds? Yes, yes, and double yes. She dropped her cell phone into her purse. \u201cMy father hired you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen how\u2014?\u201d Becca blinked and couldn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She\u2019d hoped today\u2019s migraine was food poisoning from the Chinese take-out she\u2019d shared with her staff at lunch, but she\u2019d been suffering headaches for weeks. And the other unexplained phenomena surrounding her had nothing to do with MSG or bad bean sprouts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pain at the back of her skull receded, but for a minute there\u2014the one during which she\u2019d fallen into this guy\u2019s arms\u2014she\u2019d feared she was having a stroke. Maybe she had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden\u2019s voice lowered. \u201cI can see the summoning spell all over you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou cannot be serious.\u201d Nothing in Becca\u2019s life, not her realty courses or the motivational seminars or the \u201cDouble Your Sales\u201d DVDs she\u2019d watched last week, had prepared her for this nonsense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She forced a smile, wishing she had her sister beside her to roll her eyes for. They would jostle each other and giggle and reinforce the absurdity of all this. Because there were no such things as demons or spells or magic or any of it. That was summer movie, cable TV bullshit that didn\u2019t translate to the real world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Except she wasn\u2019t so sure anymore. She\u2019d seen so much<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHolden frowned, his gaze crisscrossing her face. \u201cAm I wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s private.\u201d She pointed at her car. \u201cI have a lot of work to do.\u201d That wasn\u2019t true. Not completely. She owned her own office. She made her own schedule.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked her right in the eye and leaned in even closer. Way too close. Kissing range close. \u201cA necromancer is targeting you for a full-blown demonic possession. I can help you, if you let me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Becca swallowed, overwhelmed with the urge to retreat. His body heat rolled over her like a wave. \u201cWhat do you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know what\u2019s happening because I\u2019m a necromancer, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She froze, not sure whether to laugh or get her phone back out and press send on that call. \u201cYou\u2019re joking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He freed her, leaving her reeling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was trying to\u2014\u201d Holden shook his head. \u201cForget it. I\u2019ll see what I can do.\u201d He tilted his ear toward his vehicle as if he heard something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Buster popped his scruffy blond head over the passenger door and rested his chin on the sill, but nothing else about the decades old Jeep drew her attention. And she didn\u2019t hear a thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d Becca disliked the idea of Holden Clark investigating her personal life behind her back. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a guy in the store over there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She glanced at the row of shops. \u201cWhat guy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden eased farther away. \u201cI\u2019ll let you know what I find.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhoa,\u201d she said, following him. \u201cYou\u2019re not going over there to talk to some guy about my personal business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her logical mind urged her to get as far away from Holden Clark as possible. And fast. She\u2019d taken a self-defense class. Distance and crowds were two important assets. Right now, she had neither.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But what if he wasn\u2019t a lunatic? What if he was right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She was already here, and she had nothing to do the rest of the day but sit in her mostly boxed-up office or go home to her too-small apartment, the second one she\u2019d moved into in the last three months, and eat alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he went in for the kill, aiming the full strength of those blue eyes on her. \u201cThere\u2019s a summoning spell on you. I want to get rid of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Becca couldn\u2019t lie to herself. Some too-weird-to-be-believed shit had been going on for a while. It was the reason she lived in a tiny, slightly toxic-smelling one-bedroom apartment instead of her real house on River Road. This wasn\u2019t all make-believe. Those chairs hadn\u2019t moved themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWithout help it\u2019s only going to get worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Worse wasn\u2019t an option. Worse was stroking out during her morning commute. She couldn\u2019t do worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDoes this guy have a name?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden cracked a small, approving smile, and his features softened. She was struck, again, by how handsome he was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCole Burkov. He has experience with dark magic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs he a friend of yours?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSort of. But the point is he knows a lot about spells.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Becca bit her lip and then went with it because not only was her schedule flexible for the first time in ten years, but if her issues weren\u2019t supernatural, then it was CAT scan and blood work time. The very real possibility that she was suffering from a brain tumor was always sitting there in the back of her mind, terrifying the living daylights out of her. And she\u2019d much rather deal with a pesky spirit than chemotherapy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine. You got me here. Let\u2019s see what he has to say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because, yeah, Mr. Clark was probably a head case, but how else to explain the headaches, the nightmares, and the electricity glitches?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She glanced at the fluorescent lamp pole arcing above their heads, but it held steady. No light shows today, then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden secured his dog, and Rebecca pulled an off-white cardigan from her trunk. It would cover the gritty paw marks on her clothes. As she pushed her arms through the long sleeves, she made a promise. Five minutes with Cole Burkov, and then she\u2019d return to her office. That was long enough to decide whether Holden was on to something or a frustrating waste of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of the two other psychics that had tracked Becca down at work, neither had mentioned a necro-whatever or a demonic possession. Their conversations had run more toward blocked chakras, sage smudging, and EMFs. They\u2019d been equally earnest in their conversations and only slightly more ridiculous. And each had brought up forms of payment in nearly the same breath as \u201cHello, nice to meet you.\u201d At least Mr. Clark wasn\u2019t asking for money. Yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden got his dog out of the Jeep, a stronger grip on the leash this time, she hoped, and gestured for her to proceed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She faced the storefronts. Not exactly voodoo country. Where were the Spanish moss and rolling fog?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo,\u201d she said, \u201cwhich is the collection of dark and unknowable magics\u2014the fast food Mexican place or the ice cream parlor\/arcade?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He eyed the row of family-friendly establishments. \u201cIt\u2019s the comic book shop.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The dog surged toward Rebecca, straining at his leash and dancing up on his hind legs. He was obviously biding his time until he could jump all over her. She gave him a look that said, \u201cTry it, and I\u2019ll hobble you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho\u2019s your fine young gentleman?\u201d Rebecca asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBuster. I hope you don\u2019t mind, but he doesn\u2019t like being alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mind<\/em>? \u201cOf course not.\u201d She grabbed her bag, locked the car, and marched ahead in her heels and turquoise pencil skirt, her cardigan hiding most of Buster\u2019s little gifts.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHolden led the unrepentant Lab across the parking lot, keeping barely enough space between them to prevent further assault. The dog couldn\u2019t belong to anyone but Holden. Neither one had a clue about personal space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is a necromancer?\u201d Becca asked, quickly outpaced by Holden\u2019s long strides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused on the sidewalk for her to catch up. \u201cI see spirits. Deceased persons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou see dead people.\u201d She fought a smile. \u201cYou\u2019re obviously a movie fan. So, is that like a magician?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not sure magician<\/em> is the right word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe settled Buster in a shady spot under the store\u2019s front windows and poured water from a bottle into a stainless steel bowl. The little devil tilted its head up and stared at Holden with an expression of pure adoration before belly flopping on the warm concrete. His tail thumped twice, and then he fell asleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re good with him.\u201d It wasn\u2019t right to be jealous of a well-cared-for animal. Becca looked after others, but there wasn\u2019t a single person who took care of her. Not her sister, not her dad, and her mother didn\u2019t count. If she had time for a boyfriend, maybe he would, but she didn\u2019t, and there was no point in dwelling on all the reasons why she didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden pulled open the shop\u2019s glass door and held it for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tall wall-to-wall shelves ringed the interior of the store, which smelled like books and Mexican food. Three men played a dice and card game at a table in the corner, a teenage girl flipped through back issues, and a twenty-something guy stood at the cash register, his nametag pinned to his dark blue polo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe have to go,\u201d Becca whispered. \u201cThey don\u2019t have magic. They\u2019re role playing<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nHolden grunted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A dark-haired young man wearing a company shirt stared hard at her and then headed right for them. \u201cFreaky. It\u2019s like you have your own personal storm cloud. Demonic possession?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Holden had probably called this guy on the drive over and prepped him for their little con game if that\u2019s what this was. And there was a good chance that\u2019s what it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRebecca Powell.\u201d She extended her hand for a quick shake, reflexively passing him her card.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSure.\u201d He frowned at Holden. \u201cLet\u2019s talk in the back room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd your name is?\u201d she called after them. No answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Damn them. She knocked her knuckles on a glass case dedicated to Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. <\/em>The stake-wielding blonde glared up at her from the cover of a glossy graphic novel.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis was a mistake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Becca checked her watch. Three minutes down. Two to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Quiet conversation in the store picked up again. She didn\u2019t mind being the center of attention\u2014her job encouraged it\u2014but this didn\u2019t feel right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHi.\u201d The cashier stepped into her periphery. His nametag read Justin<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cHello.\u201d Smiling sweetly, she handed him her card. \u201cRebecca Powell. Nice to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He traded her a plastic-encased comic book. Leaning in, he whispered, \u201cYou\u2019re welcome.\u201d He stared meaningfully at the book and then wandered to the checkout area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She glanced at the comic in her hands. A group of teenagers under the Statue of Liberty<\/em> raced across the front cover of Runaways<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\nTime\u2019s up. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nShe set the book on a shelf and marched for the closed door marked Private\u2014No Exit. Nobody tried to stop her, and she let herself in. Groups of used candles, posters of big-breasted superheroines, and crates of comic books surrounded Cole and Holden. No ancient tomes or long wands in sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Becca crossed the threshold, and her ears buzzed. The air hummed as if she were standing beside an electrified fence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cole stopped talking midsentence, and both men stared at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lightning storm in her brain intensified, worse than ever before, and her instincts screamed at her to escape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The shelf beside her rattled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca pasted on a smile, cloaking herself in professionalism. \u201cWhat have you come up with?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo back into the store,\u201d Holden snapped, a twinge of panic in his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just what were they doing in here?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She stepped into the room. And the whole building shook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Download the full novel from Amazon HERE<\/a>.<\/h3>\n\n\n\nLike Cheap Books? Sign Up For My Monthly Newsletter<\/a> Today.<\/h5>\n\n\n\nEnjoy this Free Red Plague Sneak Peek PDF<\/a> full of excerpts and extras!<\/h5>\n\n\n\n<3 Anna<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Written by Anna Abner Copyright 2013 by Anna Abner Or, Enjoy A Sneak Peek At Chapter One Of Spell Of Summoning Cover Blurb Holden Clark walks into Rebecca Powell\u2019s life, a tall, blue-eyed stranger who stirs long forgotten desires. But nothing, including this man, is what it seems. A dark necromancer is targeting Becca for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3826,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Free Chapter Of Spell of Summoning (Dark Caster #1)!","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[832,8],"tags":[182,381,45,461],"class_list":["post-3824","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dark-caster-series","category-spell-of-summoning","tag-magic","tag-necromancer","tag-necromancy","tag-paranormal-romance"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"views":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2Wkl2-ZG","jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/02\/SoS1800x2700new.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3824"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3827,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824\/revisions\/3827"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3826"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3824"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3824"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3824"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Holden has no faith in his power. A necromancer, he communicates with the dead, but he has never embraced his gifts. Now, he has no choice. He must stop the dark caster attacking Rebecca, but accepting this mission means he\u2019ll be delving into dangerous magics he\u2019s never used before.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Under the protection of the damaged and mysterious Holden, Rebecca will question everything \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n April in North Carolina didn\u2019t have the sticky heat that would settle over the state during the summer months, but it was warm. Sweat tickled at the back of Holden Clark\u2019s neck. But not because of the weather. He\u2019d lied to a woman to get her here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Well, lie was a strong word. He\u2019d rather say he\u2019d persuaded a woman to join him for lunch under false pretenses. Because he wasn\u2019t a liar. In fact, he prided himself on his honesty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But he couldn\u2019t think of any other way to get Rebecca Powell to meet him here. Telling her the truth over the phone was out of the question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Buster, Holden\u2019s yellow Labrador, sat up off the asphalt and whined at an approaching, slow-moving vehicle. This must be her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A silver Lexus pulled over and parked two spots down in the half-empty lot, giving Holden plenty of room to watch Rebecca Powell through her car windows. Grams was right. No doubt about it, the woman was under a summoning spell, and the demon trying desperately to break into their world clung to Ms. Powell\u2019s blonde hair and narrow shoulders like a filthy veil.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTell her whatever you have to,\u201d Grams said, rounding the hood of his stripped-down 1979 Jeep. \u201cShe doesn\u2019t have much time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He leaned against the passenger door, his fingers tightening to the point of pain around Buster\u2019s long, braided leash. The air between him and Rebecca crackled with magical energy. The spell on her was no amateurish accident. It was stronger than anything he\u2019d ever experienced. Fear coiled inside him. He couldn\u2019t help her. No matter what his Grams said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a flip of her hair, Rebecca rose from her car and smiled that big Realtor smile. She looked just like her photo on her website. Pretty, brown-eyed, and about his age, twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She wore her business attire\u2014curled hair, expensive jewelry, short skirt, and heels\u2014like battle armor. It all pronounced her professional, but friendly. Smart, but feminine. A tough southern girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Buster\u2019s ears perked up. Holden dug in his heels, but Buster was eighty-five pounds of overgrown puppy. He launched himself at Rebecca full force, as if he had springs for feet. The leash jerked out of Holden\u2019s hand, and before he could stop him, his dog scratched both her knees, untucked her white blouse, and slammed her against her car. It was Buster\u2019s version of a polite \u201cHow do you do? Is that a demon over your shoulder?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood Lord,\u201d she squealed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBuster, no!\u201d Holden wrapped both arms around the dog and lifted him clear off the ground to stop the assault. \u201cNot cool,\u201d he grumbled, setting the dog in the Jeep. He secured his leash to the steering wheel, giving him only enough slack to lie down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Holden said, turning to Miss Powell. \u201cHe wouldn\u2019t hurt you. He wants to smell\u2014\u201d He almost said the demon.<\/em> \u201c\u2014you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rebecca straightened her light blue skirt, one hand on the car for balance, and smiled, the perfect agent even with dog slobber on her arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe sure is friendly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She closed the distance between them and the air sizzled. She extended her hand for a shake, but her knees wobbled. The magic written all over her must be taking a toll. She listed to the side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden leapt to catch her before she fell, accepting the brunt of her weight against his chest. She was small and light as a bird, and she smelled like fruit and flowers and something even more delicious underneath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At her touch, a slice of him long frozen roared back to life. It had been so long since he\u2019d felt anything near to desire that he didn\u2019t immediately recognize the sensation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cExcuse me,\u201d she chirped, wrestling free. \u201cI got light-headed for a sec. I\u2019ve been having migraines.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo problem.\u201d Holden brushed himself off, uncomfortable with so much physical contact. It had been months since he\u2019d been this close to a woman. And he\u2019d never been this close to a demon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m so embarrassed.\u201d Rebecca wiped at the worst of the dirt streaks on her skirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Blood bubbled up from a scratch above her knee. Holden pulled a mechanic\u2019s rag, the closest thing to a Band-Aid in the Jeep, from his glove box and offered it to her. If only he owned a first aid kit like a normal person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, thanks.\u201d She waved away his rag and handed him a fancy business card with her photo on it. The spell on her crackled, passing him a minor electrical shock. She must have felt it, too, because she snatched her hand back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMr. Clark,\u201d she said, \u201clet\u2019s get down to business. You said you wanted to sell your house, but you had some questions?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Right. His cover story. He\u2019d called and offered her a job, insisting on meeting her here at this strip mall for a lunch date at a little Mexican restaurant. But he had no intention of selling the farmhouse he\u2019d inherited from his grandparents. The ruse was the simplest way to get her to The Repository, a store that shared the same shopping center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cUh. Yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She narrowed her eyes. \u201cDid you change your mind? Because I\u2019m not feeling very well all of a sudden. I could reschedule.\u201d She produced a cell phone and tapped on it. \u201cTo be honest, I\u2019m not taking any new clients right now. My associate, Jessa, though\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Grams appeared at his elbow. \u201cDon\u2019t even think about it, bubba.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n How did she know he was half a second from accepting the out?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d he mouthed. \u201cIt\u2019s worse than I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rebecca glanced up. \u201cSorry?\u201d Her smile faltered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He\u2019d promised Grams to help Rebecca. He\u2019d actually said the words. But if Rebecca refused his help, it wasn\u2019t his fault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Might as well come clean. \u201cThe spell on you. It\u2019s worse than I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She cocked her head, a strand of honey-blonde hair sliding along her collar. \u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Buster whined and strained at his leash, rocking the Jeep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe possession spell,\u201d Holden said. \u201cThe demon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n For a moment she didn\u2019t react. Then, very calmly, she put away her phone and said, \u201cI understand.\u201d She straightened her shoulders and seemed to grow another three inches, though even in her towering heels she remained half a foot shorter than him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood to meet you,\u201d she said in a steely tone. \u201cHave a nice day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her first instinct was to dismiss anything to do with the supernatural, but he didn\u2019t have the luxury of denial. His whole life was one big supernatural tragedy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Grams adamantly shook her head at him. She\u2019d given him an ultimatum. Stop the demon from breaking through to their world, or she was leaving. For good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Last try, and then Grams would have to accept he\u2019d done all he could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden grabbed Rebecca by the wrist, stalling her. \u201cDon\u2019t you know someone is trying to possess you with a demon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n Fear flashed through Rebecca, momentarily obliterating the constant headache and the pain in her thighs from his devil dog. The man whose arms she\u2019d nearly fainted into was another lunatic. The third psychic in the last month. That must be some kind of record.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Holden didn\u2019t look like a Ouija-loving madman. First off, he showed up to a business lunch in jeans and a T-shirt. He was tall. And young, about her age. And way too handsome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The fear morphed into anger, granting her strength. She locked eyes with his very, very blue ones. Quite distracting eyes, actually.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet me go. Now.\u201d She stared him down, willing him to release her without any further fuss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHear me out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d Becca palmed her cell with her free hand, her thumb poised to hit send on a 911 call.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden stepped so close she caught his freshly laundered scent, but Rebecca held her ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHave you been seeing things? Having headaches? Does it seem like a haunting, except it\u2019s only around you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Did he read minds? Yes, yes, and double yes. She dropped her cell phone into her purse. \u201cMy father hired you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen how\u2014?\u201d Becca blinked and couldn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She\u2019d hoped today\u2019s migraine was food poisoning from the Chinese take-out she\u2019d shared with her staff at lunch, but she\u2019d been suffering headaches for weeks. And the other unexplained phenomena surrounding her had nothing to do with MSG or bad bean sprouts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The pain at the back of her skull receded, but for a minute there\u2014the one during which she\u2019d fallen into this guy\u2019s arms\u2014she\u2019d feared she was having a stroke. Maybe she had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden\u2019s voice lowered. \u201cI can see the summoning spell all over you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou cannot be serious.\u201d Nothing in Becca\u2019s life, not her realty courses or the motivational seminars or the \u201cDouble Your Sales\u201d DVDs she\u2019d watched last week, had prepared her for this nonsense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She forced a smile, wishing she had her sister beside her to roll her eyes for. They would jostle each other and giggle and reinforce the absurdity of all this. Because there were no such things as demons or spells or magic or any of it. That was summer movie, cable TV bullshit that didn\u2019t translate to the real world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Except she wasn\u2019t so sure anymore. She\u2019d seen so much<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden frowned, his gaze crisscrossing her face. \u201cAm I wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s private.\u201d She pointed at her car. \u201cI have a lot of work to do.\u201d That wasn\u2019t true. Not completely. She owned her own office. She made her own schedule.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked her right in the eye and leaned in even closer. Way too close. Kissing range close. \u201cA necromancer is targeting you for a full-blown demonic possession. I can help you, if you let me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Becca swallowed, overwhelmed with the urge to retreat. His body heat rolled over her like a wave. \u201cWhat do you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know what\u2019s happening because I\u2019m a necromancer, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She froze, not sure whether to laugh or get her phone back out and press send on that call. \u201cYou\u2019re joking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He freed her, leaving her reeling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI was trying to\u2014\u201d Holden shook his head. \u201cForget it. I\u2019ll see what I can do.\u201d He tilted his ear toward his vehicle as if he heard something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Buster popped his scruffy blond head over the passenger door and rested his chin on the sill, but nothing else about the decades old Jeep drew her attention. And she didn\u2019t hear a thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d Becca disliked the idea of Holden Clark investigating her personal life behind her back. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere\u2019s a guy in the store over there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She glanced at the row of shops. \u201cWhat guy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden eased farther away. \u201cI\u2019ll let you know what I find.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhoa,\u201d she said, following him. \u201cYou\u2019re not going over there to talk to some guy about my personal business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her logical mind urged her to get as far away from Holden Clark as possible. And fast. She\u2019d taken a self-defense class. Distance and crowds were two important assets. Right now, she had neither.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But what if he wasn\u2019t a lunatic? What if he was right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She was already here, and she had nothing to do the rest of the day but sit in her mostly boxed-up office or go home to her too-small apartment, the second one she\u2019d moved into in the last three months, and eat alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then he went in for the kill, aiming the full strength of those blue eyes on her. \u201cThere\u2019s a summoning spell on you. I want to get rid of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNot possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Becca couldn\u2019t lie to herself. Some too-weird-to-be-believed shit had been going on for a while. It was the reason she lived in a tiny, slightly toxic-smelling one-bedroom apartment instead of her real house on River Road. This wasn\u2019t all make-believe. Those chairs hadn\u2019t moved themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWithout help it\u2019s only going to get worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Worse wasn\u2019t an option. Worse was stroking out during her morning commute. She couldn\u2019t do worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDoes this guy have a name?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden cracked a small, approving smile, and his features softened. She was struck, again, by how handsome he was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCole Burkov. He has experience with dark magic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIs he a friend of yours?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSort of. But the point is he knows a lot about spells.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Becca bit her lip and then went with it because not only was her schedule flexible for the first time in ten years, but if her issues weren\u2019t supernatural, then it was CAT scan and blood work time. The very real possibility that she was suffering from a brain tumor was always sitting there in the back of her mind, terrifying the living daylights out of her. And she\u2019d much rather deal with a pesky spirit than chemotherapy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFine. You got me here. Let\u2019s see what he has to say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Because, yeah, Mr. Clark was probably a head case, but how else to explain the headaches, the nightmares, and the electricity glitches?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She glanced at the fluorescent lamp pole arcing above their heads, but it held steady. No light shows today, then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden secured his dog, and Rebecca pulled an off-white cardigan from her trunk. It would cover the gritty paw marks on her clothes. As she pushed her arms through the long sleeves, she made a promise. Five minutes with Cole Burkov, and then she\u2019d return to her office. That was long enough to decide whether Holden was on to something or a frustrating waste of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Of the two other psychics that had tracked Becca down at work, neither had mentioned a necro-whatever or a demonic possession. Their conversations had run more toward blocked chakras, sage smudging, and EMFs. They\u2019d been equally earnest in their conversations and only slightly more ridiculous. And each had brought up forms of payment in nearly the same breath as \u201cHello, nice to meet you.\u201d At least Mr. Clark wasn\u2019t asking for money. Yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden got his dog out of the Jeep, a stronger grip on the leash this time, she hoped, and gestured for her to proceed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She faced the storefronts. Not exactly voodoo country. Where were the Spanish moss and rolling fog?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo,\u201d she said, \u201cwhich is the collection of dark and unknowable magics\u2014the fast food Mexican place or the ice cream parlor\/arcade?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He eyed the row of family-friendly establishments. \u201cIt\u2019s the comic book shop.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The dog surged toward Rebecca, straining at his leash and dancing up on his hind legs. He was obviously biding his time until he could jump all over her. She gave him a look that said, \u201cTry it, and I\u2019ll hobble you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho\u2019s your fine young gentleman?\u201d Rebecca asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBuster. I hope you don\u2019t mind, but he doesn\u2019t like being alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mind<\/em>? \u201cOf course not.\u201d She grabbed her bag, locked the car, and marched ahead in her heels and turquoise pencil skirt, her cardigan hiding most of Buster\u2019s little gifts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden led the unrepentant Lab across the parking lot, keeping barely enough space between them to prevent further assault. The dog couldn\u2019t belong to anyone but Holden. Neither one had a clue about personal space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat is a necromancer?\u201d Becca asked, quickly outpaced by Holden\u2019s long strides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He paused on the sidewalk for her to catch up. \u201cI see spirits. Deceased persons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou see dead people.\u201d She fought a smile. \u201cYou\u2019re obviously a movie fan. So, is that like a magician?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m not sure magician<\/em> is the right word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He settled Buster in a shady spot under the store\u2019s front windows and poured water from a bottle into a stainless steel bowl. The little devil tilted its head up and stared at Holden with an expression of pure adoration before belly flopping on the warm concrete. His tail thumped twice, and then he fell asleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re good with him.\u201d It wasn\u2019t right to be jealous of a well-cared-for animal. Becca looked after others, but there wasn\u2019t a single person who took care of her. Not her sister, not her dad, and her mother didn\u2019t count. If she had time for a boyfriend, maybe he would, but she didn\u2019t, and there was no point in dwelling on all the reasons why she didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden pulled open the shop\u2019s glass door and held it for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tall wall-to-wall shelves ringed the interior of the store, which smelled like books and Mexican food. Three men played a dice and card game at a table in the corner, a teenage girl flipped through back issues, and a twenty-something guy stood at the cash register, his nametag pinned to his dark blue polo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe have to go,\u201d Becca whispered. \u201cThey don\u2019t have magic. They\u2019re role playing<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden grunted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A dark-haired young man wearing a company shirt stared hard at her and then headed right for them. \u201cFreaky. It\u2019s like you have your own personal storm cloud. Demonic possession?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holden had probably called this guy on the drive over and prepped him for their little con game if that\u2019s what this was. And there was a good chance that\u2019s what it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cRebecca Powell.\u201d She extended her hand for a quick shake, reflexively passing him her card.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSure.\u201d He frowned at Holden. \u201cLet\u2019s talk in the back room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd your name is?\u201d she called after them. No answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Damn them. She knocked her knuckles on a glass case dedicated to Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. <\/em>The stake-wielding blonde glared up at her from the cover of a glossy graphic novel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was a mistake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Becca checked her watch. Three minutes down. Two to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Quiet conversation in the store picked up again. She didn\u2019t mind being the center of attention\u2014her job encouraged it\u2014but this didn\u2019t feel right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHi.\u201d The cashier stepped into her periphery. His nametag read Justin<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHello.\u201d Smiling sweetly, she handed him her card. \u201cRebecca Powell. Nice to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He traded her a plastic-encased comic book. Leaning in, he whispered, \u201cYou\u2019re welcome.\u201d He stared meaningfully at the book and then wandered to the checkout area.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She glanced at the comic in her hands. A group of teenagers under the Statue of Liberty<\/em> raced across the front cover of Runaways<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Time\u2019s up. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She set the book on a shelf and marched for the closed door marked Private\u2014No Exit. Nobody tried to stop her, and she let herself in. Groups of used candles, posters of big-breasted superheroines, and crates of comic books surrounded Cole and Holden. No ancient tomes or long wands in sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Becca crossed the threshold, and her ears buzzed. The air hummed as if she were standing beside an electrified fence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cole stopped talking midsentence, and both men stared at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The lightning storm in her brain intensified, worse than ever before, and her instincts screamed at her to escape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The shelf beside her rattled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rebecca pasted on a smile, cloaking herself in professionalism. \u201cWhat have you come up with?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo back into the store,\u201d Holden snapped, a twinge of panic in his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Just what were they doing in here?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She stepped into the room. And the whole building shook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <3 Anna<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Written by Anna Abner Copyright 2013 by Anna Abner Or, Enjoy A Sneak Peek At Chapter One Of Spell Of Summoning Cover Blurb Holden Clark walks into Rebecca Powell\u2019s life, a tall, blue-eyed stranger who stirs long forgotten desires. But nothing, including this man, is what it seems. A dark necromancer is targeting Becca for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3826,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Free Chapter Of Spell of Summoning (Dark Caster #1)!","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[832,8],"tags":[182,381,45,461],"class_list":["post-3824","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dark-caster-series","category-spell-of-summoning","tag-magic","tag-necromancer","tag-necromancy","tag-paranormal-romance"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"views":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2Wkl2-ZG","jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/02\/SoS1800x2700new.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3824"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3827,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3824\/revisions\/3827"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3826"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3824"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3824"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3824"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Chapter One<\/h1>\n\n\n\n
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