Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Sexual Magic 2


It's all fun and games…until someone loses their heart.

What happens when a good girl who wants to explore her submissive side makes a wish to be bad? The Council sends a pair of Enrichers to show her the ropes—literally.

Emma Haskins may be in over her head, physically and emotionally, with these two. Griffin King and Mason Shaw, the Dom/switch pair sent to instruct her on the fine art of submission, discover the same thing. None of them expect their previously battered hearts to get involved. When simple training turns into a one-of-a-kind emotional overload, the trio is blindsided. By the time they realize how they feel for one another, it may be too late to arrange a happily ever after for three—a stalker is intent on getting his hands on Emma. At any cost.

That cost could be one—or more—of their lives.

BDSM, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
73,427 words



Sexual Magic 2






Jennifer August










Siren Publishing, Inc.


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IMPRINT: Ménage Amour




Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer August

E-book ISBN:


First E-book Publication: June 2012


Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.


This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.


All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.




Siren Publishing, Inc.


Letter to Readers


Dear Readers,


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by Jennifer August from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.



Regarding E-book Piracy


This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.


The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.


This is Jennifer August’s livelihood.
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. August’s right to earn a living from her work.


Amanda Hilton, Publisher






For David, the man who walked into my life and enlightened me by showing me what great things love can do.


Sexual Magic 2



Copyright © 2012






Chapter One


A crisp November wind twirled around Emma Haskins as she strolled up the sidewalk toward My Favorite Martini. She inhaled the snow-laden, chill-tinged flavor of the air and grabbed onto the ends of her red cashmere scarf.

Pausing in front of the bar’s window, Emma checked her reflection in the glass, rearranging the wild tangle of tousled brown hair. She was only meeting Joel, but someone cute and eligible might be inside. The door opened, and she scooted sideways, giving the departing customer a friendly excuse-me smile.

Which promptly froze on her mouth.

“Emma?” The mellow, almost unctuous voice of Dr. Charles Wetherell greeted her.

She swallowed a groan, smile going feeble. “Charles. Nice to see you.”

His responding grin was both effusive and a bit self-deprecating. Their three dates had been cursed by disasters and discomfort from start to finish. She’d chalked the initial encounter up to first-date jitters on both their parts. The second date she’d begun to suspect there was no point, and by the end of the third, when he’d pressed a dry, lackluster kiss to her lips, she’d been positive. No spark, no chemistry, nothing but endless droning about history—his specialty at Branford College where he taught—and an odd sense of oppression.

Charles didn’t see it her way and became doggedly determined on a fourth date. He’d called for weeks until she bluntly told him there would be no more dates.

He’d protested, but by the end of the phone call agreed to a parting of the ways. She’d not seen or heard from him in the five months since.

A couple hovered behind him, and he moved away from the door, directly in front of her. Even within the small alcove, the wind blew sharply, tugging his blond hair this way and that. He smoothed a hand over his head, shrugging deeper into his tweed overcoat. “How have you been? You look good.”

Emma cleared her throat. “Thank you. I’m fine. Uh, and you?”

He took a half step closer. “Busy,” he murmured, his expression one of mixed hope and regret. His hand lifted then dropped back to his side.

Had he been about to touch her?

She edged toward the door. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. I’ve got to go. Meeting a friend for dinner.”

His blue eyes narrowed before his mouth smoothed into another placid smile. “A date?”

The almost-jovial question sounded strange, but Emma was too eager to be away to pay much attention. “Yes,” she lied. Joel, her best friend, was decidedly gay and happily engaged to his longtime boyfriend. “He’s waiting, so I should go.” She raised her hand. “Bye.”

Emma spun, yanked the door open, and scurried inside. The wind whipped the glass door shut, and the only thing she heard was “…see you again.”

She didn’t risk a second glance. No sense giving him even the merest idea she might be interested in hearing from him.

She unbuttoned her red peacoat as she maneuvered through the mingled throng of college students and business professionals. She spotted Joel lounging in a booth against the glass windows facing the street. He rose with a grin as she hurried toward him.

“Late as usual,” he teased then pulled her into a bear hug complete with a quick kiss. He hung her coat on the nearby rack, underneath a blaring television tuned to one of the local stations. She checked her watch and heaved a relieved sigh. Two hours until the hockey game. Though the noise level was not too bad, once the puck dropped, it would go ballistic. She definitely wanted to be out before then.

As she slid onto the faux-leather booth seat, Emma glanced out the window, spied Charles’s stiff retreating back, and sighed, dropping her forehead to her palm.

“What’s wrong, love?” Joel asked.

She briefly explained her unfortunate meeting with Charles. Joel winced in sympathy.

“Too bad,” he mused. “The guy is definitely easy on the eyes.”

“Not so much on the ears,” Emma replied. The painfully awkward shared kiss rattled back through her brain. “And zilch on the attraction. Good looks don’t always translate to good bedroom skills.”

Joel clucked his tongue in mock reprimand just as the waitress appeared, basket of salt and pepper fries in hand. She took their drink orders with bored efficiency then moved to the next table.

“Okay, enough of boring, old Professor Pedestrian. We need to talk,” he said.

She lifted a brow. “Yeah?”

“Emma, hey!”

She broke Joel’s contemplative stare and smiled up at Lucy Goodson. “Lucy, hi!” She rose and gave her friend a hug. “You out alone tonight? Want to join us? You remember Joel Bishop? Lucy and I work together at Graphix.”

Joel smiled up at her. “Evening. Yes, please join us.”

Lucy winked. “Thanks, but I’m just leaving. Some of the girls from Accounting asked me to come out with them.” She leaned down, her dark-brown hair nearly obscuring her sweet face. “They’re a nice enough bunch, but all they talked about was numbers.” She gave a mock shudder. “Boring!”

They laughed, and Lucy straightened up. “One of these days, I’m going to strike gold and find an actual man instead of hanging out with the girls every week.”

The television blared a series of musical notes and a banner proclaiming special bulletin. A somber newscaster appeared.

“We interrupt this program for breaking news. Milla Flores police are responding to reports of a body found on railroad tracks just north of Pierson’s Plaza. Sources allege the body is a victim of the Snapshot Killer.” The anchor swung his somber gaze to the next camera. “This would make the fourth victim since May.”

Lucy sank onto the bench next to Emma, hand at her mouth. “God, it’s so fucking horrible. Why can’t they catch this guy?”

A shiver crawled up Emma’s spine, and she squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know. He’s careful, I guess.”

Three pictures appeared on the screen. “The women have no known connection save for a resemblance to each other. All three had dark-brown hair, green eyes, stood about five feet four inches tall, and weighed approximately 125 pounds.”

“Jesus,” Joel whispered.

She looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

He looked from the TV to them and back again. “Nothing,” he muttered.

But she knew exactly what he was thinking. Both she and Lucy bore a striking resemblance to the victims of the Snapshot Killer. But then, so did a third of the women in Milla Flores. Brown hair and green eyes were not exactly unusual, even in Northern California.

She flicked her gaze back to the television where the news report now showed a live shot of the park. Cops and crime-scene techs scurried around the site. Yellow tape bracketed a stand of snow-dusted trees. Emma felt ill. She’d been very near that spot not long ago for a photo shoot.

Lucy heaved a sigh and rose. “I guess it just goes to show you, life is short. Don’t waste it. I hope they catch that bastard soon.” Her smile returned, and she winked at them both. “Have a good night, you two. See you tomorrow, Emma.”

As she left, Emma reached for a fry and her fingers tangled with Joel’s. He tipped his head and studied her intently as he munched. She sat as still as she could but, after a few moments, dragged her hand over her hair, fluffed her bangs, and glowered. “What?”

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