What Devilry is This?

Mature Magic Book 1

Talk about your midlife crisis. How was I supposed to know when I bought a pretty country church in a city named Rome that I was acting like a guardian deity? Lares Schmares. Anybody who deifies me needs serious therapy.

I’d always believed the whole “Lares” thing was a family story, nothing more. When I was fifteen I’d looked up the term “Lares” and discovered that they were guardian deities in the ancient Roman religion.

Heh.

A deity.

That’s hilarious.

I can barely manage my own life, let alone help others with theirs.

But…how do I explain a sudden, driving urge to open my candle shop in a pretty white church sitting at the main crossroads of a small town named Rome?

I’m not a Lares. That’s ridiculous.

I’m just a forty-year-old widow who likes to make candles.

How was I supposed to know that buying a church meant becoming the caregiver of a whole array of magical creatures?

Still…I’m not going to guard them.

No Siree!

I’m no guardian deity. That’s just…strange.

    

"Wow! Just wow!!!!! I could NOT put this one down!!!!!!! My heart was beating double time in so many spots! I could feel the angst and pain....I could feel the joy! It was magic!" 

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With the gentlest heart and purest soul, though Fates above will take their toll, the Lares’ guard will oversee, a kindly protectorate for thee.

A guardian does her petitioners cherish,

For all that evil would not perish,

And with a hand made sure with magic,

Stays the destructive winds and tragic,

Keeps them safe from wicked forces,

Allowing for the natural courses,

And if she fails, her plans amiss,

Her actions drawn by Faustian wish,

If every soul within her purpose,

Embraces right o'er evil service,

The Lares’ magic makes them whole,

Although the fates will take their toll,

An understanding forged with love,

Shall know her bounty from above,

A devil’s bargain met and dashed,

A terrible cost, a danger vast,

When all seems lost and death is nigh,

And in the end, a child’s faint cry,

A faithful guardian’s touch will quiet,

A terrible foe, emotions riot,

Extend her hand to sever vice,

And ease a soul not once but twice,

One by one and two by two,

The Lares’ resolve will see it through,

And when at last death’s courses run,

The Lares’ tears will see it done.

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