The Witching Hour
Britt DeLaney
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2016 Britt DeLaney
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Trapped
Chapter 2: March 1643
Chapter 3: Revelry
Chapter 4: Debauched and Delighted
Chapter 5: Revealed
About the Author
Other Books by Britt DeLaney
Novellas by Britt DeLaney
Acknowledgments
This one is for Tasha. You cast a spell on all of us, my darling. Whatever that undefinable thing is, you’ve got it in spades.
Chapter 1
Trapped
Tasha checked herself one last time in the large, oval mirror that hung in her foyer. She wasn’t disappointed. Three hundred and twenty-three years, and she still didn’t look a day over twenty-five, which, of course, is when she’d stopped aging.
Her honey-blonde hair was still lustrous and thick – long enough that when she was astride a man, he could feel it tickling his thighs as she rode him. Her legs were still long and lean, her stomach flat but soft, her backside curved and shapely enough to make a man instantly picture himself behind it. Her breasts were still lush and firm, and her face was radiant and unlined. Her pale skin was a sharp contrast to the deep mahogany of her eyes, so brown they were nearly black, sitting atop strikingly high cheekbones and a delicately sloping nose that led down to the fullness of her lips, slightly turned up at the corners now as she gave herself a nod of approval.
I’ll do,
she said, glancing up at the pendulum on the clock, willing it to tick-tick-tick the remaining minutes away.
Come on darkness. . .
she murmured.
The witching hour. Her one and only escape from this madness. At sunset, the spell would drop and she could open the door and walk free – but only until daylight of the following day. The terms of the curse were very specific about that. The moment light streaked the sky over the horizon, she would be instantly transported back to this dark, drafty old house, sealed into it like a tomb, never to feel that sunlight on her skin, or sample the pleasures of warm skin and wet mouths for
