Free A Wolf's Claim (A BBW Paranormal Christmas Romance): The Holiday Ball by Marie Mason Page A

mother and her grandmother were always telling her how beautiful she was and how she had a figure that men would die for. She didn’t believe them. Why should she? There certainly hadn’t been any men knocking down her doors in recent years. She’d dated in high school and college, but since she’d returned home to help in her mother’s shop, no one had even suggested meeting for coffee at McDonald’s for heaven’s sake.
    This time she thought she heard a murmur of approval resonate from the shadows around her and shivered.
    “Why are you hiding back here in the shadows, Amber Marie Jones.”
    Amber always smiled when her mother used her full name. As a little girl, the three names had let her know she was in trouble and usually provided enough time for her throw up a cloaking spell before her mother found her. The spell would shield her for a while, but then she’d have to face the music. Unlike human teenagers who had their phone privileges revoked, a young witch was usually forbidden to use her magic.
    To Amber, being able to use her magic was as essential as breathing.
    “I’m not hiding, Mother. I’m watching.”
    “Well, you need to watch from somewhere else.”
    “Hush, Maggie,” her grandmother scolded her mother, putting a comforting arm around Amber’s shoulders. If she hadn’t been so curvy, she would have felt small around these two women. They were that tall. Or she was that short. Guess it was all a matter of perspective.
    “Exactly, my dear.” Her grandmother gave her a wink and Amber realized the other woman had read her thoughts. That usually didn’t happen since her grandmother had taught her at an early age how to avoid being read by any supernatural with that ability. Of course, her grandmother could easily slip past those shields when her mind overflowed with emotions, like now.
    As usual, her mother ignored her grandmother. “Really, Amber, you need to be out mingling. How else are you going to know if your mate is here or not?”
    Amber sighed. It was the same story year after year. “If I’m fated to have a mate, he’ll find me no matter what I do at this damn party.”
    “Watch your language, young lady. No one likes a potty mouth.”
    She rolled her eyes. Her mother should hear her when she was working on a spell and accidentally set things on fire. But the mate thing wasn’t happening, no matter how prim and proper she acted. She’d come to the realization that having a mate was not her destiny. Some witches weren’t meant to mate. Or some lost their mates too soon.
    Like her grandmother and mother. A mischievous spark lit up her eyes. Technically, both women were single. Who was to say fate didn’t have another mate in store for them? “You and Grams are the ones who need to be out mingling. You’re both single, too, you know.”
    “What?” That brought her mother’s attention back from scanning the crowd as if she could see which man was meant for Amber. That wasn’t such a far-reaching concept. Her grandmother could read minds—well, she could read emotions and held a doctorate in psychology, so when she mixed the two skills together, it was kind of like being able to read minds.
    Her mother could see things. Glimpses of the past and present. And sometimes the future. She gave readings in the back of her shop—minus the crystal ball. Amber’s talent was more elemental. She could bring dying plants back to life with just a touch, mix potions for sickness of both the body and soul and call forth wind and fire.
    “You’re single, Mother.” She didn’t want to cause her mother any sadness by mentioning that fact. Her father had passed away three years ago. Amber had crystal clear memories of her father laughing and playing with her. And kissing her mother. They had always been touching and kissing. She’d felt the love between her parents and wished with all her heart to have that some day. But she also knew her mother was lonely at times and deserved another