Seduced by Moonlight (Love Death and Magic #1) Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Love Death and Magic Series by Kenya Wright

Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

(Love Death and Magic #1) Seduced By Moonlight

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Kenya Wright

Book Information:

Imani hates her life and her waitressing job. She’s stuck in the small town of Crystal Lake with no money, education, or way to escape. And then Aiden and his friends come into town. People aren’t sure if they’re a gang of bikers or something else. There’s this odd sense of power whenever they are around. But when Imani meets Aiden, desire instantly bridges between them. There’s just one thing standing in their way. He’s a werewolf—the alpha of his pack and the one who created the rule that shapeshifters can never breed with humans.

Haunted by the past, Aiden lost his family in the Mystic Wars. His pack and he have been searching for a safe town to call home. But the attraction to Imani fogs his head. Aiden finds himself torn between loyalty to his brothers and the raw burning hunger raging in his core. Even worse, evil brews within the shadows, threatening to consume Crystal Lake and the new woman he desires. Can he figure out a solution or lose it all?
Books in Series:

Love Death and Magic Series by Kenya Wright

Books by Author:

Kenya Wright

Chapter 1


“This year’s presidential election has sparked mayhem across the country.”

I stared at the diner’s television, watching this week’s latest police brutality protests.

“Thousands march the streets over the police brutality and the current shooting of unarmed citizen Kia Knight. The homeless teenager had fallen asleep in her car that was parked at the gas station—”

I shut off the television, unable to look at another image of a person being shot in front of my eyes.

I need to get out of here.

Unease prickled my skin.

I placed the remote at the counter and checked for the next customers sitting in my section.

Get back to work, Imani. Don’t think about Kia Knight or any of the others.

There was no love in this country for black women. No escape. No hope. No good news. I made a promise with myself to work for as long as I could and escape. In ten or so years I would retire, get a passport, and explore the world. I fattened my bank account, motivated by dreams of foreign lands and distant adventures.

One day. Until then, work, work, work.

It had been a typical Friday in Mama Jo’s Grits & Grub.

The lunch crowd rushed in—hunters wearing dusty boots, tired resort managers talking into their cellphones, and bored shop owners flipping through magazines. Chatter filled the place. Dishes clinked, and silverware clattered. Every now and then, a smash came from the new waitress, Cammy. Savory aromas mingled with the sweet scents of freshly baked cakes.

Mama Jo’s décor boasted a classic diner theme. Checkerboard vinyl tiles covered the floor. Aqua blue coated the walls. Framed pictures hung and displayed ponytailed blondes in poodle skirts, muscled guys sitting in classic cars with fuzzy dice dangling from the rearview mirror. Every table held a chrome-trim. Booths lined the walls. A jukebox stood in the back. There was even a chrome-trimmed soda-fountain bar.

While I didn’t own the place, the diner ran in my family as much as Mama Jo’s. Her grandfather opened it in 1950. Then, it was called Sam’s Crispy Cakes. My grandmother worked for him as a cook. She made the best apple cake in the state of Washington. Unfortunately, she died with her secret recipe.

Sam was the only white man grandma trusted. That said, a lot since Crystal Lake’s small population of 1,500 was mostly white. In the 1960s, he opened up his diner to blacks well before segregation forced other restaurants to do the same. That made him good people to her.

After grandmother died, Mom took over as the diner’s cook. Then, Sam passed. His daughter Nancy became the boss and changed the name of the diner to Nancy’s Place. Both single mothers and mourning their parents, mom and Nancy, became the best of friends. They spent so much time with each other that many thought the women were lesbians. Neither cared nor paid attention to the gossip.

Meanwhile, the diner became my second home. As a toddler, I took my first steps there. Every day after school, my sister and I did our homework and sipped on thick strawberry milkshakes. In my teens, summers involved busing for the diner—lots of picking up dirty dishes, sweeping, and cleaning up the bathrooms. Pay equated to small dollars and all the diner food I could eat. That didn’t help my weight at all. In this shitty town, the kids always picked on my chubby frame and my dark brown skin. It made me hate Crystal Lake and most of the people in it. By my senior year, I swore I would move out of town after graduation. Then the week of graduation, my mother passed away. She never told anyone she had cancer. Nancy couldn’t even step into the diner anymore. It reminded her too much of Mom. Nancy spent the rest of her life sitting in her house and working on her garden. Nancy’s sister Joanne was forced to take control and named the place Mama Jo’s Grits and Grub.

As the oldest, I had to stay in Crystal Lake and take care of my sister, Harper. She was a junior in high school when Mom died. I worked at the diner and helped pay for Harper’s college once she graduated. I was now the proud sister of a psychologist. When Harper returned home this year to work as a counselor at the local clinic, I knew my time would soon be done in Crystal Lake.

In ten years, I’ll have a good chunk of money. Just think about that as you finish these last five hours, Imani.

My bones grew weary. My ankles ached from carrying around my thick hips and thighs all day.

Suck it up. You can do it.

I piled a stack of dishes on top of the cart as Mama Joe finished cleaning up the tables. She should’ve been retired by now, laying out on her porch and sipping on lemonade. But the old woman had a daughter hooked on drugs. Now she was forced to take in her two grandkids and repeat motherhood in her sixties.