Raven

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Jack-O-Lantern: Raven Willa Okati

All rights reserved. Copyright ©2006 Willa Okati No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution. WARNING: Illegal files may contain viruses.

ISBN (10) 1-59596-574-2 ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-574-5 Formats Available: HTML, Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader Publisher: Changeling Press LLC PO Box 1046 Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046 www.ChangelingPress.com Editor: Crystal Esau Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

“It must be here somewhere.” Andrew ran his finger across a row of ancient book spines, wanting to sneeze as the dust flew up around his face like a halo. “I found it the last time I looked for it. I put it back where it belongs. So why can’t I find the damned thing?” Giving up, he pulled a book out at random, measuring the weight and thickness of it. Heavy as his favorite carved marble dildo, and thick as a man’s cock. The pages were yellowed and battered with time, crackling ominously as he opened them and glanced in, but what did that matter? He needed something to pass the time. He wouldn’t have to wait much longer, but until then, he couldn’t stand the silence. Silence broken only by the raven sitting above the door to his study, shuffling its clawed feet on its perch, shifting its ebony wings, and peering at him through first one baleful eye and then the other. Most ravens could not speak, but then again, few belonged to wizards. “Well?” Andrew asked, tucking the book under his arm. “Is he on his way? Will he be here soon?”

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The raven mumbled something, tucking its head under one wing. A single malicious eye glittered at Andrew. Whatever the bird knew, it wasn’t telling. And for a familiar, this was something that just wouldn’t do. Andrew crossed the room in a few short strides to stand beneath the doorway, glaring up at his “pet.” “Answer me,” he warned. “More depends on the question than you know.” The bird shook its head. “Not coming,” he rasped. “Never going to be here. No more.” “Why you -- I ought to turn you inside out and use your feathers for a pillow!” Andrew made a grab at the bird, which darted easily out of his reach, higher up onto a marble bust above the door. Flushed, he raked a hand through his hair and swore at his familiar. “He will come,” Andrew said mutinously. “He always comes. Maybe not always on schedule…” “Waiting,” the bird snickered. “Waiting here forevermore.” “A fat lot you know.” Andrew tucked the book under his arm. “I have more important things to do than sit around and chatter with you all evening.” “Dirty book,” the raven observed, stretching its wings wide. “Dirty filthy book. Going to read?” Andrew’s cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “This is not a dirty book. This is a time-honored classic.” “Says you, says you.” “Yes, says I,” Andrew mocked, marching toward his desk. “What would you know about history? This was written by one of the greatest Arabic scholars to ever set ink on paper.” “Dirty book.” “It is not a -- oh, why do I bother?” Andrew slammed the book down on his desk, wincing when the spine gave a creak and the front cover cracked a bit down the middle. “Be quiet and let me read until he comes. I’m sure it’s not going to be long now.” The raven croaked, a funereal sound, and shuffled on its perch. Glaring at it, Andrew pulled out his desk chair and carefully opened the pages. The Kama Sutra , an ancient edition. It amused him to think about the stuffy old gentlemen who would have displayed this with a smirk in their private collections, voraciously read it on the sly, and finally packed it away for him to find so many years later. He’d loved this from the moment he’d laid eyes on it. The perfect addition to the library he’d spent years building, shelves and shelves full of ancient books with good leather bindings. Opening to a page near the middle, Andrew began to read text he’d all but memorized. “Wicked boy,” the raven suddenly spoke up. “Dirty mind, dirty mind.” Andrew set his jaw in a hard line. “Then you’ll truly be shocked by this,” he said, standing up to go and find the book he’d originally been looking for. Scanning the shelves once more, he gave a grunt of pleasure as he saw it on a bottom shelf almost behind a beaten-up old armchair, where gentlemen of old would have kept all their favorite naughty books. He straightened up, waving his antique edition of Let the Male Pleasure the Male . “What do you say

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to that, then, eh?” “Nothing more.” The raven tucked his beak under one wing and glared. Andrew flicked his fingers at the familiar, rendering it silent for the moment before retiring to his desk. He opened the book at random, grinning at the antique illustration of a man entering another man from behind. The drawing was rough and rushed, as if the illustrator had hardly dared set ink to paper for fear of being discovered at what he was doing. It wasn’t all like that, though. There were some lovingly detailed drawings elsewhere in the book. In fact, if he remembered right… Tap-tap-tap. Andrew’s head shot up. He gestured at the raven again. “Is that him? Has he come? There’s no peephole on the door. I know you know. Tell me.” The raven shifted and grumbled. Andrew snatched up a heavy wooden ruler, all ready to throw. “Tell me,” he threatened. “Has my lover come to stand outside the chamber door?” “Leonard is here. Nevermore.” The raven looked baleful, as if delivering the news was bitter to him. Andrew ignored the bird’s sourness to cross the room in what felt like a single bound. He snatched at the doorknob, his hand almost slipping in his eagerness, and yanked the door open. Outside stood the man Andrew had been praying to see all night long. Taller than he was, with a shock of hair dark as the raven’s feathers and standing up in short spikes, an open and friendly face, square-rimmed glasses and a hesitant grin. “Leonard,” Andrew breathed. “You’re here. You came.” He reached for his lover’s hand. “I was beginning to wonder.” “Nevermore,” the raven butted in. “Birdie, hi,” Leonard greeted him with a brief glance upward. He quickly bypassed the raven for Andrew, eyes landing on him. Andrew could feel himself being devoured by the hungry gaze. “That’s enough small talk, don’t you think?” Leonard asked, stepping forward into the room. “More than enough.” Andrew met him halfway and moved into Leonard’s arms as if they hadn’t been parted for a day, Leonard taking him by the waist and his own hands pressing against the small of Leonard’s back. Andrew raised his face and Leonard bent to it, pressing a kiss against his lips. No shy or hesitant kiss for them, but a ravenous one, Leonard taking control and dominating Andrew with the pressure of his mouth. His tongue flickered along the seam of Andrew’s lips, which he parted gladly to let Leonard in. He sucked at Andrew’s bottom lip, then bit at the top, then ran his tongue over Andrew’s teeth and stroked the flat of it against Andrew’s own tongue. Their heads moved first this way and then that, each of them seeking the best angle yet hasty in their need to devour one another from the mouth on down. “And distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,” Leonard quoted when he came up for air, his lips deliciously swollen. “Not December, though, is it? It’s Halloween Eve, when ghosts walk.” “Thank God.” Andrew wrapped himself tighter around Leonard and hung on. “It’s hard enough waiting

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for you as it is. If I had to go two more months I’d be insane.” “You’re saying you aren’t now?” Leonard softened the possible sting of his words with a quick, sweet kiss. “If you are, then I’m mad too. Crazy about you.” “It’s mutual.” Andrew stole a third kiss, lingering over the taste of Leonard’s lips. He’d been drinking something fruity and sweet, the flavor of it lingering on his mouth. “Punch?” he asked, licking his own mouth. “Something festive?” Leonard grinned. “It’s too early for eggnog.” “That bizarre concoction of sherbet and ginger ale?” Andrew took a fourth kiss. “Yes, that’s it exactly. You’ve been indulging tonight.” “Better than real ale. I wanted a clear head when I saw you again. But what about you? Have you had anything?” Andrew took a guilty glance at the tray of tea he’d made some hours earlier, now sitting cold and forgotten on the edge of his desk. Leonard sighed, but fondly, and ruffled up Andrew’s hair. “You have to take better care of yourself,” he scolded. “You can’t just sit here reading dusty old books and forgetting to eat or drink. I don’t know much about how these things work, but man cannot live by books alone.” “Says you. Now, come here.” Andrew brought his lips to Leonard’s for yet another kiss, starting out hungry and rapidly progressing to desperate. He reached up to tangle his fingers in the stiff, gelled spikes of Leonard’s hair, then took off his glasses and laid them down on the desk. “Now,” he half asked, half ordered. “I want to have you now.” “So soon?” “It’s close to midnight.” “I didn’t realize.” “You were late this year. The hour scared me.” Andrew caressed Leonard’s cheek. “I thought you might not come, and the raven…” “Nevermore,” a croak came from above their heads. “Sour old nay-sayer,” Leonard scoffed. “I got held up, but you knew I’d be here. Nothing could have stopped me. Not hellhounds, not half a dozen spooks or devils, not even time itself. I’d have come. I always come for you on Halloween Eve.” “I’m glad.” Andrew took Leonard by the hand, walking backwards as he led the man toward the small, soft camp bed he had set up in his study. “Come with me. Come on, now. Come.” “And they say it’s romance that’s dead.” Leonard ran his own hand through Andrew’s waves of hair. “The color still makes me think of honey,” he said admiringly. “You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you. Do you ever? Change, I mean.” Andrew shook his head. “I stay as much the same as I can, so you’ll recognize me when you see me

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again. And what about you? You haven’t aged a day.” “It’s not likely that I would, is it?” Leonard stopped with his hand cupping Andrew’s jaw. He bent for a brief, chaste kiss. “God, the taste of you. I can’t get enough.” “Take all you want, then. Take it all.” Andrew tugged on Leonard’s hand. “I can’t wait any longer for you. I’ve waited and waited on you tonight. We have to hurry.” “It’s not quite midnight yet.” “Nevermore,” the raven croaked. “But we do have to hurry,” Leonard agreed, putting two fingers under Andrew’s chin and tilting it up for yet another kiss, tongue demanding entrance. They stood for a long moment, lost in each other, Andrew’s hand working against the fabric of Leonard’s T-shirt, almost kneading it like a contented cat. Or an eager one. “It isn’t fair,” Leonard whispered heavily as their mouths parted. He rested his forehead against Andrew’s. “We wait so long and we have so little time. It takes so much effort to cross over that I barely have the strength to stand and kiss.” “I know.” Andrew turned his head to press a kiss into Leonard’s palm. “But still,” he said mischievously, “you always find the energy to fuck. Don’t you?” “I’d do anything to have you, and as often as I can. But only on Halloween…” “When the spirits walk…” “Can I be here in person. Flesh and blood for you to hold on to.” Andrew rested his head against the solidity of Leonard’s chest for a moment, then drew back and began to peel his sweater off. As it cleared his head, he felt his hair tumble into a dozen tangles, static electricity wisping the strands about. “I need you,” he explained. “No more waiting. I have to have you inside of me.” “Take it easy,” Leonard soothed, although he did run his hands up and down the muscles of Andrew’s chest and stomach with definite appreciation. “We’ve got time.” “Nevermore,” the raven warned them. “Shut up!” Leonard snapped. “Andrew…” His hands lingered over Andrew’s nipples. “My turn now, I guess. But first, you take off your pants. I want to see your cock again. I’ve been dreaming about it for a whole year.” Andrew grinned. He loved it when Leonard lost control and turned lusty. It never took him long, but it was always worth the brief wait. “It’s a little cold in here. How about a fire, first?” “You mean besides the one you’ve lit in me?” Leonard reached out to touch again, managing a stroke along Andrew’s shoulder before he moved beyond Leonard’s range. “Are you going to --” Andrew snapped his fingers at the dead fire in the grate, which burst back to life. Soft rugs had been laid

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before it, and on second look they seemed like a better idea than the bed. Standing on one of them, testing the cushiness of the thick weave, he let his hands drop to the waistband of his trousers. They had a button fly. Undoing them one… by one… by one… teasing Leonard and watching his hungry expression all the while… Andrew slipped out of his slacks and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of the things, kicking them to the side, and stood naked, his body exposed for examination. “Each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor,” Leonard quoted. “Distinctly I remember…” “Don’t.” Andrew placed a finger briefly across his own lips. “No more bad memories.” “Nevermore,” the raven warned. Both men ignored the bird. Leonard gazed at Andrew, who stretched his arms wide and let Leonard look his fill, let him drink in the sight of his lover naked and already half-hard, his cock beginning to rise and point at the ceiling. Andrew reached down to grope himself, wrapping his fingers in a fist around his cock and tugging, starting to bring himself to full arousal. “Stop right there,” Leonard ordered. “That’s my job.” Andrew let his eyelids fall to half mast. “Then you’d better hurry, hadn’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “I’m already naked, and you’re wearing far too many clothes.” “I can fix that quick enough.” Leonard skinned off his T-shirt and unzipped his jeans, kicking out of both. Like Andrew, he wore no underwear or socks, and when he was naked, Andrew had to stop and gaze hungrily at the sight of his lover, all hard planes and angles, hard muscles taut on his torso and down the length of his legs. “Well? How’s this?” “Almost perfect.” “Almost?” “You’re still over there,” Andrew pointed out. “And I’m still over here.” “I can fix that, too.” Leonard stepped toward Andrew, meeting him on the soft rugs. His cock, already fully hard, nestled in against Andrew’s belly with a touch that made him gasp. “Hot… so hot,” Leonard whispered in his ear. “Do you know how you feel to me?” “If it’s half as good as you feel to me…” Andrew undulated, rubbing their cocks together. He hissed at the amazing sensation of hard flesh next to his own, then reached down to take a double handful of dick and pressed the two columns together. When he did, it was Leonard’s turn to make a small, choked sound and grab Andrew, pulling him close. “You were right.” he agreed hoarsely. “No more waiting. It’s been long enough. Do you still keep supplies?” “On the mantelpiece,” Andrew said eagerly, reaching to roll Leonard’s sac in one impatient hand. “The same kind of lube that you liked last year.” “And the year before that, and before that, and before that…” Leonard kissed Andrew briefly before reaching over his shoulder for the tube. “You always come prepared.”

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“Because I want to come,” Andrew whispered, nipping at Leonard’s shoulder. “Hurry up and do this. I need you.” “Nevermore.” “Shut up !” both men yelled at the raven, who muttered and hunched his feathers. They didn’t need any reminders that their time together would be all too short. Each of them had waited a whole year for this one moment, a stolen piece of time, and it never lasted long enough. It could have been a lifetime, and it wouldn’t have been enough. Leonard pushed gently at Andrew, guiding him down onto the floor. “I want you on your back this year,” he explained when Andrew would have gone onto his hands and knees. “I need to see your face. I want your eyes on mine when you come.” Andrew hummed happily as he let Leonard guide him into place. Once on his back, he raised his knees and spread his legs wide like a slut, desperate for it and to hell with anyone who might have disapproved. “Hurry,” he urged huskily. “I need your hands on me. My own isn’t half good enough.” Leonard sank into a kneeling position between Andrew’s legs. He dipped his head down and took Andrew’s cock into his mouth, catching him off guard. Andrew yelled and arched his hips, thrusting deep between Leonard’s lips, but his lover took it all without complaint and slid further down his shaft, tongue working busily and throat muscles closing around the tip of Andrew’s shaft. Andrew began to babble nonsense syllables, half-sitting so that he could grasp Leonard by the shoulders and urge him on. Leonard pulled off, lips deliciously red, and grinned at him. “Just a taste,” he teased. “I wanted to see if you still had the same flavor.” “Do I?” Andrew asked, slowly laying himself back down. Warm hands stroked his abdomen. “You do,” Leonard whispered, rubbing his thumbs around Andrew’s navel. “Salty and musky, but there’s something else, too. Something that only belongs to you.” “Maybe it’s the part of you that comes out in me. You’re inside me, you know, even when we’re not fucking. Maybe you’re tasting your own heart.” “My love.” Leonard lavished another long lick up the length of Andrew’s cock, then pulled off with seeming regret. “I’m tasting my own love, and it’s good.” “Very good,” Andrew agreed as he spread his legs wider still. “Very, very good… oh!” Leonard had uncapped the lubricant and spread a dollop over his fingers, then pressed them up against his hole. The gel was cold compared to the warmth from the fire, but as the first finger entered, it was an icy hot burn. “Tight. God, how can you always stay so tight?” Leonard prepared Andrew carefully, his own fat cock pressed up against his lower belly. “I’m always afraid that I’ll hurt you.” “You could never hurt me. You could just drive me out of my mind with waiting, though,” Andrew said, bearing down on the fingers inside his channel. “No more playing around. Fuck me, Leonard. Fuck me the way I know you want to.”

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Leonard swallowed hard. “How could I say no?” He poured more lube in his hand, and ran it up and down the length of his cock. “No one could say that when you’re spread out wide for me, ready to take me on. No one else has ever --” “And they’d better not,” Andrew warned. “You’re mine , and I don’t share.” “Don’t worry.” Leonard kissed one of Andrew’s knees. “It’s worth waiting a whole year for you when I know you’re being faithful to me, no matter what’s on the other side.” “I’d save myself for you if I had a hundred men lined up at my door,” Andrew swore. “Do it now, Leonard. Put yourself inside me.” Leonard lined the tip of his cock up to Andrew’s hungry hole, and pushed, too lightly at first. Andrew made an impatient sound and shoved back, meeting Leonard halfway, until the head of his cock popped inside. Leonard groaned, a deep sound that seemed to come from the center of his body. “You,” he gasped. “What you do to me…” “Is nothing compared to what you do to me,” Andrew finished. “Now fuck me, Leonard. Like you never have before. As if you’ll never do it again.” Because we never know which time will be the last, hung unspoken between them. “Nevermore,” the raven muttered. Andrew and Leonard fought to ignore the doomsayer as Leonard drove inside Andrew one inch at a time. Andrew writhed and arched his hips up as he was filled bit by wonderfully agonizing bit. After a whole year he was tight as a virgin, but the burning pleasure was something he wouldn’t trade for a million dollars. When Leonard was seated to the base he stopped, breathing heavily, looking at Andrew eye to eye. “Hold my gaze,” he ordered. “I want to see everything you’re thinking while I fuck you.” Andrew lifted his legs and wrapped them around Leonard’s back. “Then hurry up,” he ordered huskily. “I want to see what you’re thinking, too.” Leonard pulled out a short distance, then pushed back in, his cock gliding smoothly on the copious slick of lube that he’d used. Andrew cried out as he was emptied and then filled, time and time again. Leonard built up a speed and a rhythm that soon made the room echo with the slap of flesh against flesh, the sound of their groans and cries, and the harsh rasp of their breathing. Andrew reached for his own cock, desperate for attention, but Leonard batted his hand away. “That’s mine ,” he growled, “and don’t you forget it. I’m going to finish what I started as soon as I… I… oh, fuck, oh, God, oh fuck…” “That’s it,” Andrew urged, digging his heels against Leonard’s lower spine. He flung his head back, rolling it on the soft rugs. “I can feel you. You’re so close. Let it go, lover, let it all go. I need to feel you inside of me. All that warm seed coating me deep.” “When you talk like that I can’t… fuck, I can’t…” Leonard thrust again, grabbed at Andrew’s shoulders, and looked him directly in the eyes as long as he could before they shut involuntarily and his face contorted, his body stiffening and then jerking forward, driving him in as deep as he could go, his

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hips snapping forward as if he wanted to go further. Andrew felt his lover’s spunk spurting into him, thick and heavy and hot, and almost came himself. Leonard gasped for breath, sagging against Andrew for a long moment. Then, shakily, he withdrew in a gush of jism and lube and worked his way back down to Andrew’s cock. Andrew let him go almost reluctantly, hating to feel that long tool exiting his body, and his legs almost creaky from where he’d had them locked around Leonard’s back. “I’m not a selfish lover,” Leonard said, as he had a dozen times before, during a dozen different fucks. He grasped the base of Andrew’s cock in one hot, slippery hand and lowered his mouth over the head, lashing the swollen flesh with his tongue, poking it into the slit, before sliding further down, taking in as much as he could until his mouth met his own fist. He began to work his way up and down, lacking finesse but possessing every ounce of enthusiasm that a man could have, sucking hard as a vacuum and battering Andrew’s cock with his tongue. Already over-stimulated, Andrew could only bear a little of the treatment before he too arched up in pleasure, cried out something long and wordless, and emptied himself into Leonard’s mouth. He felt Leonard swallowing, taking in every drop, licking to catch what drips he might have missed. Then, all too soon, his mouth was off of Andrew’s cock, and his head hanging heavily between Andrew’s legs. “Come here,” Andrew half-ordered, half-invited, holding his arms wide for Leonard to crawl up next to him and be held. Leonard moved slowly, like an old, old man, but made his way there and took hold of Andrew instead, turning them about until Andrew was spooned up in Leonard’s arms, back to chest, arms draped over Andrew’s stomach. “Nevermore,” the raven warned. Andrew closed his eyes tightly. “I hate that bird.” “He’s right, though, and we both know it. Someday it will be nevermore.” Leonard’s fingers caressed Andrew’s temple. “But please, God, let that be a long time from now. You’re all I think about all year. There’s nothing else to do where I am, and looking forward to this night is just about all that keeps me going.” “No other men to look at?” “No one who could possibly compare to you.” Leonard kissed the back of Andrew’s scalp, nuzzling into the disheveled locks. “You’re all I need.” “And you,” Andrew replied, nestling closer to Leonard. “Nevermore,” the bird croaked. “Nevermore, nevermore, nevermore!” Leonard had kept his wrist watch on during their love-making, and he raised it so that both Andrew and he could see the time. Barely one minute until midnight. “God, the time flew while we were fucking,” Leonard said with a mixture of awe and regret -- mostly regret. “Why isn’t it ever long enough?” Andrew turned around in Leonard’s grasp. “Why do we have to part?” he begged. “Isn’t there some way you can stay here?” “We’ve been over this before. There isn’t. At the stroke of midnight, I’ll be pulled back, and you’ll be

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alone. No, no, baby, don’t.” Leonard hugged Andrew close. “I’ll hold you in my arms until the clock strikes twelve. And then we’ll be together next year. You watch and see. I’ll be waiting for you next Halloween. I promise.” “Nevermore.” Andrew closed his eyes tightly. He could hear the seconds ticking down on Leonard’s watch, each one bringing them closer to midnight, and the last thing he wanted was to feel his lover’s arms slipping away from him, and… *** Leonard felt Andrew disappear before he opened his eyes to see that his lover was gone. He lay alone and naked on a pile of moth-eaten blankets, the taste of come still pungent in his mouth, but the air full of dust and bitterly cold. A fireplace that hadn’t been used in at least a hundred years stood blocked up in front of him and, when he turned around to look, a stuffed raven sat above the door to the room. He shivered as he stood up reluctantly, reaching for his clothes. How many years had it been since he’d been up here one Halloween evening, looking for an old book among the ones that lined the shelves, and seen the world ripple, change before his eyes, until he was standing in a study with a gorgeous, honey-haired man staring back at him in surprise? He had no idea when Andrew had become a ghost. Maybe no later than the eighteen-fifties, or possibly the eighteen-seventies. God, he knew so little about his lover. He didn’t know what Andrew had done for a living, or what he was like over tea and cookies as opposed to naked and rolling in his arms. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off one another from the moment they’d met. Leonard shuddered as he dragged on his jeans and shrugged into his T-shirt. Midnight on Halloween, and another year to go before he could be with his Andrew again. It was all right, though. He had his life to live in the 21stcentury. He could wait. He would wait, and he would be back, raven be damned. He glared up at the stuffed bird, its baleful glass eyes returning his hostile stare, and shot it the finger. “Nevermore, my ass,” he said defiantly. “You can’t keep us apart. I don’t care what you do.” Leonard closed his eyes, imagining he could still feel Andrew’s head pressed against his chest. “We’ll be together next year.” *** “Nevermore,” the raven muttered as Andrew rose from the floor and stepped further back into his study. Leonard had disappeared again, just like he always did, and he was forgetting… forgetting… what had he been thinking? Oh, yes. He was waiting for Leonard. It might be a while, though, so he’d need something to read. Running his finger along the line of dusty books, he started searching for one in particular that he wanted to read. Something to pass the long, long hours, time that sometimes seemed endless, until he saw his lover once again. He found the book and retreated to his desk, determined to be patient and wait. He’d see Leonard again. “Won’t I, raven?” he asked his familiar, lurking bleakly above the chamber door. And, flapping its wings wildly, as if it were caught in the midst of a hurricane, the raven replied, “

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Nevermore!”

Willa Okati

Willa Okati is one hundred percent in love all things vampire and supernatural. However, she’s an even bigger fan of stories that feature beautiful men exploring their desires for one another. Casually known as the “blue-haired, tattooed wench” among Changeling folks, she lives for the fun of acting just as young as she feels. She’d love for you to visit her website at http://www.willaokati.com or join her reader’s loop for fun and chatter at [email protected]. Happy reading!

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