Paranormal Romance/110,000 words

Wicked Magic (Book 1)

Zephyr, apprentice of magical arts, is having a really bad day. 

Under orders to capture an uncanny creature for her mistress’s latest spell, she chains up a tall, gorgeous elf in a decaying castle only to find out he's really a wizard with potent powers over human women. Uh-oh.

Theo has suffered heartbreak and betrayal more than once. He's got a plan to escape, and when he does, he's taking the curvy little apprentice with him. Her seductive curiosity about all things elvish makes his heart race, driving him into a sexual frenzy. He’s vowed never to unleash his powers of enchantment upon a human woman—yet while she kisses and teases him, longing for an elf romance, his fae side is slipping out of control.

Their world overturns when Zephyr unleashes a curse involving two magic rings. Under its spell, she becomes a mighty sorceress while the elf-wizard who loves her becomes her apprentice. As Zephyr works to turn the brooding, mistrustful elf into the hero the people need, Theo must find a way to contain Zephyr’s new powers before her wild magic destroys them all.

Other Books by Madeline


She began stripping off the little jacket he wore. It had sleeves that laced up at the elbows and shoulders. Then she began rolling up his shirt, inhaling the male scent of him, like some unknown mountain herb, sharp and clean.

“This is a bad idea,” Wart commented.

“Maybe he’s not so harmless. I mean, he did zap me,” she said. 

“Really. Before you kidnapped him. The nerve.”

“Not sure what he did. Kind of felt like a spell forming. Only this was hard and sudden.” Her wrists still hurt from it. Her body, meanwhile, rippled with energy. She wanted to jump out of her skin.

“Well, he’s an elf,” Wart said.


“So they’re magic and all.”

“Right.” She paused one more time to look down at him as he lay on the pallet. If she let him go, what would she say to Hulgetta? Catch and release only, mistress. Sorry. She quaked just thinking the words. She picked up the gold manacle but hesitated. There was no time to think. If they were going to do this, they had to get him out quickly. And then? And then? She couldn’t think of any way she could switch him out without Hulgetta knowing.

She made up her mind. “I can’t do it. I can’t let him go.” She clapped the gold manacle onto his wrist, then bundled up his boots, jacket, and shirt into her arms.

Wart gave a cry of alarm and backed into the corner as Hulgetta, already at the top of the stairs, stormed inside. 

Holy marbles. Her innards began to liquefy a little. Looking over at Wart’s expression she knew they both looked guilty as sin. She took a pull on herself and strived to appear a little more composed. Yet her heart was stuttering and she couldn’t concentrate as Hulgetta looked around the room like she could sniff out disobedience. The tall sorceress turned quickly, the grey rotting wisps of her robes swirling out. 

“Here, girl. Did you check him over? Do those leggings have pockets?” she said to Prin, who started quickly patting down his legs. “I don’t want him armed. Keep everything out of his cell.”


“Nothing metal. Nothing he can use to escape.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Prin said. She could feel Hulgetta’s eyes upon her as she went from his knees down to his feet. Pushing on a wide shoulder and gripping his deerskin leggings, she half turned, half pulled him onto his backside and began patting that down as well. She threw the bundle of clothing at the end of the straw mattress. A fine white shirt of crisp linen with tiny stitches. Clean and well mended. Boots that were well made and well worn, the supple suede soft in her clutches.


Prin showed her mistress the shirt and jacket. “No.”

“The boots too,” Hulgetta said. Prin checked the boots and shook her head.

Nothing. Hulgetta tested the manacle’s chain, jerking the other manacle around an iron bar set into the wall. Staring at the wall, Prin realized it was probably the only part of the castle left without crumbling mortar. Instead of stones wobbling about like rotten teeth loose in their sockets the bar was immovable. The elf was not going anywhere.

The last ray of sun fingered its way through the narrow slit in the stone wall, lighting up the room and tagging a section of his hair. Prin watched the dark brownish strands take fire and the auburn locks turn to copper. What had she done? She swallowed at the elf’s cruel beauty and tried to ignore the twist of her insides.