The Witch's Spoon (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 6,513
0 Ratings (0.0)

Sean Kelaghan lives a quiet life running a teashop, The Witch’s Spoon, in Vermont after the death of his husband. His favorite time is fall and he looks forward to the treat of his special Halloween and Autumn themed tea events.

When a new man moves into the tightknit Vermont community with plans to open a wine bar, Sean can’t help but be intrigued. Carmichael Donovan might have a strange name but he’s one gorgeous man and doesn’t hide the fact he’s very interested in Sean. It’s been a long time since Sean’s had a relationship, but this is definitely no trick.

Getting to know Donovan and welcoming him into their community makes Sean look forward to whatever the future may bring, and it looks like that future might just be with Donovan.

The Witch's Spoon (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

The Witch's Spoon (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 6,513
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

“Mr. Kelaghan.”

I looked up from the order form on my laptop to the worried face of my one employee, Delores Miller.

“Sean. We’re not formal here.” I’d told her this dozens of times. It had become something of a tedious game for both of us.

Delores sniffed. She was an older woman in her late sixties who just liked to keep busy, as she’d told me. She’d insisted on formality since I hired her nearly five years ago just after Marc passed.

“He’s here.”

I blinked. “Who’s here?”

“The man who is responsible for the Castle becoming a bar.”

“A wine bar.”

“Alcohol is alcohol. He wants to see you.”

It was then I noticed a tall figure hovering by the door of the shop. It was drizzling out and he stayed just outside on the dampening sidewalk.

“He doesn’t have to stay out there,” I muttered.

“I didn’t tell him to stay out.”

“I’ll handle it.” I nodded and rose from the bar stool I had been perched on. I set my laptop on a nearby table and made my way around the counter and to the door.

“Hi. Sean Kelaghan.” I thrust out my hand to shake his and then thought maybe better of it in this kind of post-pandemic world. I let my hand fall to my side.

He was a giant. Quite a bit over six foot with shaggy brown hair and a beard. Reminded me a bit of Sweetums from the Muppets. That might be unfair, but his appearance was a bit startling.

He eyed me up and down. “Are you a witch?” He frowned. “Or, um, I guess a warlock, right?”

I understood the question. I had shoulder length black hair streaked with violet and a bit of fairy dust powder across my face to give it the appearance I was sparkling. I wore a dangling earing in my left ear of a moon and star. I also wore all black, pants and buttoned down shirt, and ankle boots. And my shop was called The Witch’s Spoon.

“There are male witches not called warlocks,” I replied. I gave him a smile. “I’m not one, though. Just a humble tea shop owner.”

The man smiled there and it transformed his shaggy monster look somewhat. He didn’t look nearly as scary.

“Carmichael Donovan. But you can call me Carmy.”

“Actually I’m not really sure I can. Uh, you have two last names.”

“Yep. As I’m sure you’ve heard I’m opening up a wine bar next door. It’s going to open this weekend. Grand opening is Friday at five. I’d love it if you can come.”


“Please? I’d love to have some of the locals who have shops around here come to get an idea of what it’s going to be like. I think you’ll like it. Anyway, I’ve been told you’re new to Colchester like me.”

I laughed. “Sure. If you count being here fifteen years as new.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“They’re a bit strange here. Where are you from originally, uh, Mr. Donovan?”

“Carmy or Donovan will do. Montpelier.”

“So from Vermont then. They’ll adapt to you quickly, unlike me. I was from Nevada. All right, sure. I’ll be there on Friday.”

I figured it couldn’t hurt. My shop closed at four so there was no conflict.

“Great. Thank you! See you then.”

And he turned and went in the direction of the Castle.

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