The Witch's Daughter (Book 1 of "The Coven Chronicles")

Author: Alana Church

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When her husband was killed, Claire Chamberlain and her family fled Colorado and took up an anonymous life in Iowa. Members of a holy coven, she, her sister, and their daughters hid themselves away from the ancient evil which hunted them.

But her daughters and her nieces were grown now, and their bargain with the Goddess was a two-edged sword. Their sexual energy could be used for the benefit of all, but they needed a man of power to channel it.

John Chamberlain was the only male child of his generation. He and his twin sister had been kept innocent of their fates. Because when the power of the Crossing hit, John would be expected to mate with...

The Witch's Daughter.

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When her husband was killed, Claire Chamberlain and her family fled Colorado and took up an anonymous life in Iowa. Members of a holy coven, she, her sister, and their daughters hid themselves away from the ancient evil which hunted them. But her daughters and her nieces were grown now, and their bargain with the Goddess was a two-edged sword. Their sexual energy could be used for the benefit of all, but they needed a man of power to channel it. John Chamberlain was the only male child of his generation. He and his twin sister had been kept innocent of their fates. Because when the power of the Crossing hit, John would be expected to mate with... The Witch's Daughter.

Additional Info

Additional Info

Tags
Urban Fantasy, Witches, Incest, Virgin, Male Virgin, Brother/Sister Incest, Mother/Son incest, Erotica
SKU
23-2724
Author
Alana Church
ISBN
No
Heat Level
Heat Level (5)
Publisher
Boruma Publishing, LLC
Series
The Coven Chronicles

Excerpt

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She would change her clothes, Susanna decided. She paused the DVR and bounced upstairs. She shucked her jeans and the shirt she had worn to school and looked in her dresser for something fun to wear. To hell with the panties. It's too warm and Mom won't let me turn on the AC. “Save the planet.” Hah. What's the use of saving the planet when my pussy is all itchy? Susanna's face burned as the naughty word echoed in her head. But it was. Her pussy was itchy and she was tired of not having a boyfriend. Tired of being a virgin. She didn't miss Larry. After she saw the way he stared at the rest of the family at the barbecue she knew he was a dog. But she wanted what Tricia and the rest of her girlfriends had. They had told her about how much fun sex was, especially if you had the right boy. One who listened. Sighing, she pulled on a pair of tight cut-offs and a crop-top that had fit her two years ago. She had outgrown it, but she loved the way it pulled tight across her chest and showed off her boobs. Stretching her arms over her head, she looked in the mirror. Showing a little under-boob there, girl. She giggled to herself. Actually, showing a LOT of under-boob. It barely covers your nips. Who cares? It's not like anyone who minds is going to see it. John pretends he doesn't like it, but I know he does. And Mom tells me my body is a gift from the Goddess, and that it is wrong to be ashamed of it. Thinking of her brother distracted her more. She hoped he would get home from his ballgame soon. Maybe they could order some pizza and watch a movie while everyone else was sorting junk at the store. Although she was sometimes frustrated by her mother and her aunt's insistence on running what she considered to be a second-rate novelty shop, Susanna believed in the Goddess. She had seen her mother and sister do things that proved her existence. She just wished sometimes that her mother wasn't so serious about it all the time. She went back downstairs and started the show again. Honey badgers really were interesting. All that blood and anger. An animal that could be killed, but never beaten. Take them off. She took off her cut-offs, and kicked them into the corner. Touch yourself. Play with your hot pussy. Make the juices flow. She ran her hands down her sides to her legs, and then up the insides of her thighs. Her thumbs stroked the patch of hair above her mound. Some girls shaved a landing strip there, she knew. Hers was in the shape of a star. It took a lot of work, and a steady hand, but the sight always made her feel delightfully wicked. She lounged back in the old leather recliner, knees hooked over the armrests, left hand busily frigging her steamy pussy. Almost involuntarily, she drew the charm for lust on the inside of her left thigh, and the charm for fertility on the right. And on her belly, above her womb, the rune achma, for broken promises and shattered faith.

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