Page 27 of Charming Her Monsters

I still can’t believe what my life has become. First off, I’m a witch. With that, there are realms of existence beyond the one I’ve always known. There really are magical beings and creatures. I’ve had sex with three kinds of supernaturals… no, make that four magical people if we include a stupid warlock named Rob.

Might as well add him to the list, as it makes my low ‘body count’ sound more impressive.

The kitchen and dining area are open to the living room, which has a magnificent stone fireplace. My eye catches a huge framed image I hadn’t noticed when I arrived. It looks like a blurry photograph of a werewolf.

“What is…that?” I rush over to it. My eyes pop out of my head when I catch sight that all around the larger photograph are framed newspaper clippings.

Each clipping features a blurry, furrymonster—named to be bigfoot, the Jersey devil, chupacabra, unknown species, etc. Now that I know how the camera distorts a supernatural’s image and how Arran looks in his beast form, I recognize the famous andpreviously believed to-be-a-hoaximages. “Is this you?” I ask my werewolf lover.

He grimaces and tucks his head down.

Maxum chuckles. “Every time he’s been caught by a camera, I like to remind him of his reckless behavior and frame it up for him.”

“Maxum!” I admonish, but find myself chuckling too.

“We all have clippings around the house, but Arran is the most famous,” he informs me.

Shaking my head in amusement, I turn back toward the kitchen.

Looking shy once again, Flint is back and helping to dish up dinner.

The dining table is set with medieval-style forks with only two pointed prongs and sharp knives.

The plates are thick ceramic and appear extremely retro—like centuries old retro. However, the gas stove is cutting edge and looks like it belongs in a fancy restaurant.

At the head of the table, Maxum pulls a chair out for me next to his, and Arran sits on my other side. Calder storms in and plops down at the far end, clearly stating his objection to my presence with a hard glower.

Flint serves us our plates, being extra cautious around me.

I want to joke that my arms aren’t going to flail around and accidentally touch him, but I don’t want to draw attention to his discomfort. Besides, I’m slightly klutzy and I might actually bump into him.

My plate has a thick slice of meat that takes up almost the entire surface. It looks mostly like beef, but doesn’t quite smell like it. Also on my overly full plate are a variety of unknown vegetables, a chunk of fancy cheese, and a fresh dinner roll. On the table in a big serving bowl is a pile of my snack chips, all mixed together.

My eyes go wide with that last offering and Maxum addresses the weirddish. “Flint thought you might want some as an appetizer.”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I say, “This is a fuck-ton of food.”

“Is that a metric ton?” Maxum asks with a smirk.

I grin at his joke, then slowly look back at my plate. “I appreciate how generous you are with the servings, but I can’t eat all this.”

“But you have lost weight.” Flint leans forward in his seat, with an earnest expression. “You need your strength.”

I don’t use scales. Not that I’ve had time to locate and use one lately. But now that he’s mentioned it, my pants have been a bit looser. “I’ve lost weight?”

“Yeah,” all four of the males say in unison—with a frown. Even Calder joined in, which blows my mind. Why would he care or comment?

“I need you healthy for what I have planned for you later.” Maxum grins wickedly at me. “So, eat what you can.”

Healthy?He means curvy. But I can’t say I mind them enjoying my curves.

I love my curves more and more the way they adore every inch of me.

Glancing around the table, I see they are all waiting to start—Calder, too.

“What’s happening?” I ask. “Do we need to say grace to the Goddess or some supernatural being?”

“You are our guest, so we are waiting for you to take the first bite,” Arran explains.

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