Fiction based on ideas
The air in the cottage was thick with the scent of burning sage and fresh-baked pumpkin bread, a warm, grounding anchor against the wild, crackling energy of All Hallows' Eve.
His mistress, the witch, dressed in a tight black corset top, laced from the navel, to the clevage. A loose flowing skirt, adding to the look, with a piece of smooth obsidian hanging about her neck. She knelt by the hearth, her partner, Liam, sitting cross-legged beside her.
Tonight wasn't about tricks or treats for them; it was about the Witches' New Year, the night when the veil between the 2 worlds thins. |
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