Wicked sorceress Cora must ruin someone's life before her eighteenth birthday or lose her magic forever, a task made tricky when she falls for her chosen victim.
***
Cora Emerson is a magical misfortune who just can't get the hang of being a wicked...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As one of the gifts for making her so proud, Mariam fixed Cora's arm with a snap of her sharp, black manicured fingers. Cora winced from the twinge of the charm working, but after she was glad to have a useful left arm again.
She bent it at the elbow. "Thanks."
They were in Mariam's room. As usual, it struck her how clean it was. The walls and bedding were white, with a splash of color from the many pillows on Mariam's bed. The rest of the furniture in the room were a pristine brown. Because Mariam hated to do a lot of cleaning, she kept her room exceptionally tidy. She also hardly ever went into the kitchen, laboratory, where the Emersons made their beauty products.
Her room smelled as if Cora had stepped into a department store's perfume aisle. The clear and opaque bottles ranged from square and squat, to rounded bottoms with tall, slender spouts. Notes of lavender, rose, vanilla, orange, and bergamot combined in an alluring harmony of aromas, so much so it felt a lot like magic.
Cora examined the rows of fragrances sitting on the dresser, as she did whenever Mariam invited her in. She wanted to see if she could spot the newest ones. After a while of trying, she gave up and picked up a bottle with a pink label. It smelled sweet but didn't have Mariam's trademark charm.
Mariam was rifling through her closet. "I know I put it in here."
Cora went to stand by her side. "What is it?"
Mariam's eyes gleamed, and for a moment Cora thought she would bestow upon her a book of charms and spells for ruining a life. It would make her life much easier.
Instead, Mariam said, "Aha," and pulled a dress out of her closet. "Here." She threw it into Cora's chest.
She held it up. It was black, as black as an ex-boyfriend had once presumed Mariam's soul to be. The sleeves were long and there was some netting around the neckline and back. It fell to her ankles. As far as dresses went, it wasn't her type. Most of her dresses were shorter in length and would've been considered cute. This one felt more conventional.
"Don't just stand there." Mariam waved at the mirror. "Try it on."
While she shoved her clothes back into her closet, Cora tried on the dress and gawked at herself in the floor length mirror on the other side of the room. It wasn't as she'd assumed it would be. It wasn't as frumpy as a funeral dress, and it wasn't as constricting as a typical sorceress's dress either. It was sensational. The shoulders had a bit of flair too.
It smelled like Mariam, all glamour and magic.
Her great-grandmother came up behind her. "See, it looks just like it had on me once." She rubbed Cora's arms, sending a thrill rocketing down her back. She was extra magical in this dress.
"Were you wearing this dress when you met him, the one I mean?" In this dress, she thought she could rival anyone. The fabric was warm and fitting against her skin, as if the dress had fashioned itself to her figure. Maybe it had.
