
Love, But Wilder
Cassie Graham
Copyright © 2026 Cassie Graham
All rights reserved.
This book is meant for personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written consent of the author except where permitted by law.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication to train AI technologies to generate text, including, without limitation, technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
Chapter One
McKenna
How do you explain to someone that you like to spend your mornings at the cemetery? I mean, I liked coming here because it was quiet, not because I had a thing for dead people. That would probably be a little too weird—even for me. And I was a fucking weirdo.
My parents had gone missing at the beginning of the year, and yes, their empty gravesites were here, along with a bench engraved with their names. I liked to hang out amongst the non-living mostly because it had an ambiance that I couldn’t get in town.
It was spooky spooky. I fucking loved spooky.
Just beyond where I sat, mist slinked down the hill in slow motion toward me. I didn’t move away from it. It didn’t scare me. In fact, I wondered what would happen if it reached my feet. It could eat me up, sharp teeth and long fingernails scraping against my skin. Maybe it would burn when it finally touched me. Or perhaps it would suffocate me and take me somewhere else – an alternate realm where things made sense – where I made sense. That thought made me relax a little.
I sighed as the fog licked at my feet, moving up my legs and toward my waist. It didn’t take long for it to travel beyond me, only covering my body for a moment before moving on.
Well, damn. So much for that.
I didn’t hate it here in Summerson, but I also didn’t love it. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that my parents went missing, and we never found their bodies. Okay, it was because of that, but it made me feel like a total asshole for feeling that way.
It wasn’t like there was a possibility my parents could waltz back into town. “Hey, daughter. We just went on an extremely long vacation and didn’t mention it to you – forgot your phone number. We’ve been chilling in the Bahamas with margaritas where every day was Taco Tuesday. Hooray! We totally didn’t die in some horrific way, and our bodies weren’t buried somewhere on the side of the road. No need to worry. Everything is okay now.” No. They were gone. I knew it. The town knew it. At the beginning of the year, Abigail and Cole Sawyer became a random statistic, and I was stuck here, trying to figure out what that meant for my life.
I missed them desperately, but it also pained me to live in the town they loved so much.
We buried empty caskets, but I didn’t know what else to do. My sister, Tyler, needed closure – hell, I needed closure – and there were no leads to their disappearance, so it felt right to do something to honor them.
Of course, the town rallied behind us. Food trains. A donation account to help with the cost of the funeral. It was lovely. The people of Summerson were lovely. And for some reason, it all made me feel like I was living a lie. Because even though I still had a business to run, and I showed up every day with a smile on my face, I couldn’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder occasionally, hoping they’d walk back into my life and remind me that the world wasn’t so messed up.
I was two sides of the same coin: Light and dark.
Cold and firm, the headstone read my parents’ names and their date of birth. Beloved mother and father. Pillars of the community. Forever missed.
I leaned back against the thick stone, closing my eyes for a moment, listening to a crow caw in the distance. The morning was chilly for August, a slight breeze ruffling my curly, red hair into my face. My strawberry tendrils fell just below my shoulders. My golden, hazel eyes were such a stark contrast to my hair color that people often stopped me on the street to tell me how interesting I looked.
The green and yellow fallen leaves crunched under my body as I adjusted my position, but it was impossible to get comfortable.
Every so often my eyes would drift to the fog stagnant around the cemetery, its murky clutches never quite seizing me the way I wanted. It evaded me, cautious and infuriating.
I blew air out of my mouth, feeling the early morning heat of the sunrise breaking the horizon.
“McKenna,” my sister said as she appeared from behind me with my Familiar, Pepperoni, snapping me out of my boundless thoughts.
Dressed casually, in loose blue jeans and a horror movie sweatshirt, Tyler was effortlessly pretty. Her raven-colored hair was French braided down her back, light makeup on her face. She never really needed much to look striking, but even a little bit of mascara and blush made her beautiful features even more profound. Where I had light eyes, she had dark, espresso eyes that peered into your soul. I swore she could spot a lie from a mile away because of them. They were soulful, just like her.
Pepperoni, on the other hand, looked rough. His orange and white fur was disheveled like he had been sleeping on one side for too long. The short, stout Corgi wiggled his nubbin as he moved into my lap. I scratched him behind his oversized ears, grinning down as he licked my other hand.
“I thought you weren’t going to come out here anymore.”
I did tell her I’d try to stop.
“Hi to you, too, little sister.” Okay, so yeah, I was avoiding her statement. I never claimed to be healed.
She pushed a few wisps of hair behind her ear and took a seat in front of me. “Shut up. Hello, darling big sister. How are you? Sleep well? How was the sunrise?”
I curled my lip, mocking her sarcasm.
She grinned. “What are you doing here, weirdo? Don’t we have to open the shop in—” She looked down at her watch, “—an hour?”
“Allyssa is opening this morning,” I replied, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. Tyler ran the business with me, but she wasn’t nearly as involved, mostly because I wanted her to live her life. She also bartended at a local bar in town. “Besides, you know I like it here. It’s quiet.”
“They’re all dead.” She fanned her arms out in front of her. “Of course it’s quiet. I like the cemetery as much as the next spooky bitch, but you’ve been coming out here every morning for the last couple of weeks. Are you . . . are you okay?”
I gulped. Was I okay? Today, yeah. But sometimes, I wasn’t always sure. Sighing, I replied, “I just miss them.”
Tyler reached out, taking hold of my hand as Pepperoni nudged her palm, hoping for some cuddles from her, too. “Me too.”
We were quiet for a moment, each of us recalling specific moments with our parents— moments we’d never get back.
“I feel comfortable here, you know? Summerson is so—” I struggled to find the words, “—perfect. It’s quintessentially eerie like most New England towns, but it’s also, I don’t know, Mayberry meets Halloweentown?” My gaze drifted over the expansive grounds in front of me. “The cemetery is a little messy. Not every leaf is the perfect shape. There are wet benches still dripping from last night’s rainstorm. This is a place to grieve, sure, but it’s also a good reminder to keep living, even if life sucks. Not to mention—”
“There’s no one here to offer condolences,” she finished for me, her expansive eyes boring into my honey-colored ones. Of course she understood. Our Sephra Link bonded us. Even when I wanted to hide my emotions, all she’d have to do is access our link and feel whatever emotion I was experiencing.
Pepperoni yipped in agreement, his big, black eyes staring up at me.
“Exactly. Everyone has such good intentions and they’re so fucking nice. But sometimes I wish they’d just keep it to themselves. Every day is like a reminder that we couldn’t find them.”
“There was no way we could, McKenna,” Tyler said, releasing my hand to cross her legs. “What were we supposed to do? Go to the Leaders?”
They wouldn’t do anything anyway. “The Leaders don’t give a shit about what happens in the mortal realm,” I told her. “Sally said she asked them for help, and they denied her. What happens on Earth is ‘human business.’ They couldn’t care less.”
We were witches – Strix, to be more specific – which was super helpful in a town that loved all things paranormal. We’re able to hide in plain sight, helping humankind through dreams – astral projection, to be exact – to warn of possible fatality. We cloaked ourselves as animals—the Strix coven, birds. And subconsciously, mortals would remember the warning after they woke. Covens called this time in a human’s life, the Pinnacle. And when the Pinnacle occurred, it was important they chose the option to do what’s right for, not just themselves, but for humanity, as well.
Most did.
“What about Sally?” Tyler snapped me out of my thoughts, asking me the same question she asked on a weekly basis, even though she knew the answer. “Has she been able to try anything else?”
Wrapping my arms around my middle, the breeze prickling my face, I couldn’t help but wonder if this cold was different. It felt different–icy and piercing. My insides shivered as goosebumps rose on my arms. My eyes narrowed to slits, and I looked around, scrutinizing my surroundings.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. People walked by on the main road, and the trees swayed in their typical melodic way that reminded me of dancing. The sky’s hue of blueish gray gave me comfort like it always did.
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “She’s done a couple location spells with a few other Strix members that wanted to help, but nothing ever came from it.”
We had even gone so far as using a Ouija board to communicate with Mom and Dad. But the only person to come through was an asshole spirit from the early 1900’s named Richard Caperberry, who wanted us to leave him a glass of whiskey every night before bed.
We obliged, of course. The afterlife didn’t exactly seem like a party – especially when your soul was trapped.
“It’s going to take time, you know?” Tyler said, watching as Pepperoni scampered from my lap to hers. Her eyes were kind, they always were. She was one of those humans who saw the good in people because she was the good. “Everything is still so fresh.”
Time really was a ruthless bitch.
“Yeah,” I replied, gulping down my guilt, wishing I could give her more.
“Want to go make some breakfast?” Tyler asked, dusting off the top of her thighs, leaves and earth littering her jeans. “I picked up a couple pints of blueberries at the farmers market this weekend. We could make pancakes. I know those always make you feel better.”
My stomach grumbled at that exact moment, betraying just how hungry I was. “I think I could be down for that.”
Standing up, Tyler offered me her hand and helped me get to my feet. I grabbed Pepperoni’s leash and we walked home.
***
Later that day, the neighborhood black cat, Phineas, ran under my feet, rubbing his body against mine as a customer came through the entrance. The goofy, non-feral cat liked to hunt in our flower fields, which I loved because he kept the rodent problem at bay. But, I think, more than anything, Phineas liked to annoy Pepperoni, and seeing as how he beelined it to the back of the shop – where Pepperoni was currently curled up in his bed – I was sure that was why he forced himself in. Not that I minded, it was kind of funny to watch the two of them play together. I think there was a small part of Pepperoni that adored the feline and wanted him around, too. Unlike other businesses on our street, we welcomed Phineas and all his shenanigans.
“Do you really think witches exist?” a young woman in her mid-twenties asked in a hushed whisper as she approached the register. “Like, in real life? Do you think there’s a local coven I could join?”
Petals and Potions had been an established business in Summerson since the early 1920’s when our great-grandparents moved here from New York. Whimsical and magical, the shop offered teas, spices, local jewelry, tiny trinkets for altars, tarot cards, crystals and all the things a modern witch could want. As well as an array of seasonal flowers we grew in our backyard.
I leaned in close, lowering my voice. “Anyone could be a witch, lovely.” I glanced down at her cauldron, herbs and spices, the empty grimoire she could fill with her own spells. “You have the makings of one right here.”
Modern witches were just as powerful as blood-born witches. Yes, I was a Strix and we answered to a coven of all-powerful holier than thou assholes who only answered to themselves, but current witches, they answered to the Universe. They answered to their higher selves. Honestly, they had the better deal, if you asked me.
That wasn’t the answer she was looking for, of course, but I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“You think this money spell will work?”
The cinnamon, bay leaves, salt and lavender sugar were more than enough. “I think so,” I said as Pepperoni playfully growled at Phineas. “Make sure to do a protection spell before, just in case, like I taught you. Burn incense to cleanse your tools, too. Your intention is everything.”
The woman gripped her credit card against her chest. She had been a regular for a few months now, slowly learning how to practice and I knew her spells were working. She was looking brighter, healthier, she had just gotten a job offer, and the man she had a crush on asked her on a date two weeks ago. Her manifestation technique was unique, and I hoped she could use her magic to get everything she wanted. The woman was a witch, whether she believed it or not.
She took a deep breath as I rang up her items.
“You know what you’re doing. Trust your intuition. Set your intentions, and you’ll be golden.”
Tapping her credit card on the card reader, I bagged up her things and handed them to her.
She beamed. “Okay, thank you. I’ll be back on Sunday for the tarot card reading lesson.”
Lessons in the magical arts had become a good source of income for Petals and Potions since social media had picked up our shop's story, and broadcasted it all over the internet. “Oh, good. I can’t wait to see you. Make sure you bring a deck that was gifted to you. They have the most magic.”
The woman nodded and walked out with a wave.
It was close to closing time, so I walked around the shop, picking up a new box of tea brought in by a local brewer. It smelled of vanilla and lemon, perfect for the last month of summer. I chose a few flowers from the bins of water up front, and made a small bouquet for the cash register. The shop was always clean, but with my downtime, I made sure it was perfect. Tyler, she could do this in her sleep, and she would if I asked, but I simply didn’t want to burden her with it.
I sometimes thought the shop didn’t even really need me anymore. Alyssa was perfectly capable of running it alone, and she had become quite the enchantress and spellcaster. We had a part-timer, named Hannah, who was almost as knowledgeable about the occult as me and Tyler were. Even our second part-timer, Avery, was finding her own style of witchcraft. As of late, I had even been able to take days off. Times were changing, and I wondered if it was because it was time for me to move forward with my life.
Just then, Tyler barreled through the front door, two grocery bags slung over her arm. Phineas meowed loudly at the disturbance, he and Tyler never really got along, bolting out the backdoor for his afternoon shift of hunting mice. “We’re making dinner tonight,” she announced. “And we’re watching the new slasher flick that just came out. I heard it has jump-scares and gore galore!” Under her arm was a baguette, and a bottle of wine. “Weather app said we’re about to be hit with another thunderstorm, so there’s no way I’m going out.”
I snickered, placing the flowers in a small vase just under the register. “Sounds perfect.” The only thing I wanted to do was get into my comfy sweatpants, drown myself in popcorn and eat the leftover slice of cake I bought from the local bakery yesterday.
***
Just as I was about to plop down on my favorite oversized chair in the living room upstairs from Petals and Potions, I was pulled from my reality.
“McKenna,” Sally, my Strix Guide, greeted. She was the one who decided which dreams I jumped in. “You’re needed. A new Grander has been assigned and you need to go to him.”
Sally handed me a piece of paper with a name on it and I sighed; it wasn’t even time for my shift, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I was so close to eating my damn cake. “Just this one?” I asked in a short tone.
Sally nodded, knotting her hands together in front of her body.
It wasn’t her fault. She had a job just like the rest of us. But it didn’t mean I fucking liked it. We hadn’t even started the movie yet.
“Just this one and you can take the rest of the night off. I’m sorry to pull you away from your evening. This one’s important.”
I committed the name to memory and snapped myself back to Tyler, so I could tell her I had some work to do before we started the movie.
Hopefully my popcorn would still be warm by the time I got back.
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