Free The Wild Side: Urban Fantasy with an Erotic Edge by Mark L. Van Name Page A

transition,” he explained as he dressed. “He’ll be fine in a few hours, but his pack will know I beat him.” He paused. “It’ll be interesting to see how the situation plays out. Maybe we should go see their show tomorrow night.”
    “More importantly, I won,” he grinned down at her, “because I had you, my secret weapon.”
    Liz backed away from his intense gaze and disappeared into the dark, then reappeared to grab his hand.
    “No,” she said. “We won, and I have you.” She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Before we go to any show, though, you still owe me a slow, slow time in the tub.”

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    GINA MASSEL-CASTATER works at a marketing and technology assessment company in the Research Triangle Park area of North Carolina. She is a mother and grandmother who has come late to the discipline of actually writing, instead of talking about writing.
    She responded to my request for an afterword with the following:

----

    Liz is a reaction to one of the oddities of aging: becoming slowly invisible in a youth-driven culture. I noticed that I could walk through a department store without causing a stir or even a “May I help you, ma’am,” from a salesclerk. On various trips to Las Vegas for business and pleasure, I noticed the effect was even more pronounced.
    I wanted to see what would happen if the invisibility became an asset rather than a brutal rite of passage into the second half of life. Liz learns to embrace the power she has been granted.
    I look forward to revealing more about Liz.

FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL . . .

    TONI L.P. KELNER

     
     
    Witch’s Haven had been customer-free for most of the day when the phone rang. It was the middle of November, so the yahoos who thought Salem would be the perfect place to spend Halloween had taken their SUVs back to whatever suburban nightmare they’d come from, and I’d already packed up all the tacky souvenir crap they would have wanted to buy. The local practitioners and practitioner-wannabes who kept the store going the rest of the year knew that my family—grandmother, mother, aunts, sister, cousins and all—were all off on their post-Halloween vacation. Excuse me, their Renewal Retreat.
    That left me alone with a stack of paperback westerns, and I’d have been just as happy if the status had stayed quo, but the phone rang a second time. Since I was theoretically there to serve our customers, I reached for the green glass spray bottle my sister Ennis had left for me. She’d thoughtfully written out a label, in calligraphy, with the instructions.

    For Maura:
    Apply to both hands before using phone.
    Do not let phone come into contact with bare skin.

    “Because of course I’d forget how to use the stuff if she didn’t write it down,” I muttered as I spritzed first one hand and then the other. It even smelled nice. After a second of waving to make sure the potion had dried, I gingerly picked up the phone and put it to my ear. “Witch’s Haven.”
    “Maura, that’s great,” Ennis chirped. “Your voice isn’t breaking up at all. I knew that potion would help. Now if I can just teach you more control . . .”
    “I have plenty of control,” I said between clenched teeth. It might have been more convincing if there hadn’t been a loud snap at that moment.
    “Control, Maura. Just keep repeating that chant I taught you.”
    I took a deep breath, and managed to stop the feedback on the line. “I can’t chant and talk on the phone at the same time.”
    “You can mentally chant while you speak—it’s really not that hard if—”
    “What’s up, Ennis? Is something wrong?”
    “No, of course not. What could go wrong with this many of the Kith in one place?” She giggled at the very thought. “The retreat has been just wonderful, Maura. I really wish you’d change your mind. Close up the shop and join us.” I might have been touched by her invitation if she hadn’t added, “Even you’d be able to sense the