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    A Deader Shade of Pale: Magic After Midlife, #1.5
    A Deader Shade of Pale: Magic After Midlife, #1.5
    A Deader Shade of Pale: Magic After Midlife, #1.5
    Ebook59 pages55 minutesMagic After Midlife

    A Deader Shade of Pale: Magic After Midlife, #1.5

    By Deborah Wilde

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    About this ebook

    A bad date is one thing. A possessed man on a rampage? That's a whole new level of nope.

    Miriam Feldman was hoping for a romance—not a body count. Now, with a grumpy French wolf shifter at her side, she must hunt down her date before anyone else gets hurt.

    This novella was written to be enjoyed whether you've already read THROWING SHADE (Magic After Midlife, #1) or you're new to this series.

    Binge the complete series now!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTe Da Media Inc.
    Release dateAug 1, 2023
    ISBN9781998888276
    A Deader Shade of Pale: Magic After Midlife, #1.5

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      Book preview

      A Deader Shade of Pale - Deborah Wilde

      1

      You might be wondering: how did I end up knee-deep in a small lake on a Friday night while wearing a sexy black sundress?

      It all started while I was on my third date in five days with Ben Myers, a blond and bespectacled lexicographer who my best friend, Judith, had sworn would be perfect for me.

      And so far he was: we had similar political views, both enjoyed a good mystery and a good bottle of wine, and would never say no to a delicious meal. We’d compared the trials and tribulations of aging bodies: his thinning hair and my back pain, and had laughingly made bets on how long before either of us ended up in a mouthguard thanks to incessant teeth grinding. Ben even praised my daughter Sadie’s creativeness in her cosplaying, which boded well for future dates. But there was one thing that might be a deal breaker—for him.

      I brushed imaginary crumbs off the plaid picnic blanket. We need to talk.

      The salsa concert here at this lakeside park had wrapped up with enthusiastic applause, and the few remaining stragglers were now making their way home.

      Oh no. Ben made a face, causing his glasses to slide down his nose. I take it back. I wasn’t up arguing all night last Friday with a theoretical linguist about generative lexicon theory. He broke into an exaggerated version of the white man’s overbite, doing some disco move with his upper body. I was burning up the dance floor.

      I laughed and pushed his hands into his lap. Never bust that out again. Go back to your word nerd arguments and losing track of time. Much sexier.

      Ben blushed and smoothed out his bow tie. You think?

      Absolutely.

      He jutted his chin up, with a mock-imperial expression. Then I’ll have you know that I didn’t lose track. My watch had stopped working.

      Are you sure you checked it? I said, playing along despite my anxious need to get this talk over with.

      I consulted it at my favorite time. 11:59:59AM. His mischievous grin made my heart ping. It’s second to noon.

      I barely refrained from groaning. I disagree. It seems your watch needed a hand.

      Ben clapped in delight. You say you hate puns but you lie.

      It’s all your fault. You’ve broken me.

      Well done, me. He patted his shoulder. What did you want to discuss?

      Most people with magic were Ohrists, deriving their power from light, and many tended to dislike the few remaining Banim Shovavim like me, who drew their power from darkness instead. Historically, they’d even hunted us into near extinction.

      Jude had assured me that Ben was not one of those people, but I had to check. Plus, I was curious as to his particular ability.

      Well, you see…

      A dying ray of soft gold beamed down upon us, the sunset’s streaks of warm pink and orange fading beneath a velvety indigo.

      Ben reached out to tuck a strand of my dark hair behind my ears. You’re lovely, Miriam.

      Our eyes met, my heart hammering in my chest and champagne bubbles fizzing in my belly. Talk, schmalk. This was finally happening. I gave a tiny nod, closed my lids, and leaned in.

      The blanket rustled and the scent of Ben’s cologne drifted closer.

      I pursed my lips⁠—

      Ben groaned. Have you ever tasted anything so good?

      Say what? I cracked an eye to find my date shoveling my portion of the mille-feuille that he’d brought into his mouth, custard and flaky pastry oozing through his fingers.

      I subtly checked my breath, wondering if he was trying to tell me I smelled of olive tapenade and needed to sweeten up, but no. Wow, I said weakly, you’re really going to town on that.

      He nodded, cramming the last bit in. Did you know, he said, through

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