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A potion gone wrong, or right? 

Single, unemployed, and in charge of her very own pet zombie, Ella Perry is cooking up trouble, and it's raining men. 

Ella has spent years searching for a cure for a zombie named Freddie. However, when an experimental concoction takes an unexpected turn, she gets a glimpse of the life she's been missing by hanging out with the undead. 

Zombies, Angels, and Pixies. Oh my! Don't miss out on the first book in the new "Sexy Witches" series by Bestselling Author Charity Parkerson.

FREE!! Only on Amazon 11/17-11/18/2014

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Check out this sample:

Copyright Charity Parkerson © 2013

All Rights Reserved. 

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Someone was shaking her. It took a couple of tries to pry her eyes open. They refused to obey her mind. Her throat burned and her stomach churned at the horrible smell hanging in the air. The smoke detector squawked loudly, reverberating off the walls and causing her head to pound even harder. She absently noted Freddie whimpering in the corner, but Ella’s gaze remained locked on the man attempting to keep her awake. His broad muscular chest was bare. A long, dark braid fell over one shoulder as he leaned over her. Black wings stood out from his back, blocking out the room behind him. His silver eyes held a hint of concern as he checked her over for injuries.

“Am I dead?” Ella asked, when she could think of no other reason for an angel to be attending her needs, even if he was a dark angel.

“I do not believe so.” His deep voice was so musical she wanted to touch him to see if he was real. “Do you feel dead?” he asked, sounding curious.

“You have wings,” she explained. As the words left her mouth, the giant black wings disappeared from sight. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, Ella tried to grip ahold of reality. When she reopened her eyes, she found the same sexy man leaning over her, only now a tiny fairy stood on his shoulder staring down at her as well.

“Holy smidgeon shot, Samuel, she’s gonna have a real shiner under that left eye,” the pixie observed. The foot-tall woman was wearing an all-leather bright-orange outfit. She seemed concerned about Ella’s well-being, and for some reason that made up for wild clothing.

“I must’ve really hit my head hard,” Ella noted. The pair nodded their agreement. “It hurts, so I’m going to assume I’m not dead. I mean, you don’t hurt after death, right?”

Both the fairy and the hot stranger shrugged while maintaining the same lost look.

Ella made a move to sit. Unfortunately, Freddie chose that moment to strike. She watched in horror as he snatched ahold of the pixie, shoving her into his mouth. Tiny legs kicked out in every direction as he fought to chew. She was too strong and wrestled to get away. Sexy Stranger sprang into action, snagging her by one ankle. He tugged, popping her free from inside Freddie’s mouth. The sound reminded Ella of a cork bursting out of a bottle of champagne. Freddie howled at the loss of his snack. Ella stared, transfixed, at the mysterious man. He was every bit of seven feet tall and wore only a black kilt that hung to his knees. A black tattoo of wings covered his bare back. They moved in time with the muscles flexing with his every motion. He was arresting. She recognized she should attempt to pull herself from the floor, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him long enough to do anything except stare. Fortunately, a bright flash filled the room. The foot-tall pixie became a full-grown woman around five-two. She was dripping wet and looked pissed as hell. Her anger focused on Freddie, giving Ella the drive she needed to move. Jumping to her feet, she placed herself solidly between the whimpering Freddie and the pixie obviously bent on killing him.

“Please don’t hurt him,” Ella begged. Although the woman was shorter than she was, Ella felt sure she also possessed a great deal of magic. The last thing Freddie needed was another damn curse.

The pixie’s green eyes flashed dangerously. One of her wings tilted at an odd angle. She spoke between clenched teeth. “He licked me and not in the good way.”

Ella’s mouth twitched despite the situation. She had to force herself not to laugh since she didn’t think it would help the circumstances. Sexy as sin seemed to have no such qualms. He snorted once, and then roared with laughter until he was steadying himself with one hand on the counter.

“You,” he said, sounding as if he was choking. “Your wings,” he tried again. He giggled. “You got eaten. HAHAHA!”