Page 83 of Hungry As Her Python

Elvis, you magnificent hunka-hunka-burnin’ genius.

Somehow—don’t ask me how—Snake Man plus Elvis had birthed the idea for my new Peanut Butter Bacon Donut Delights.

And wouldn’t you know it? When I let it slip in the Tasty Tart’s socials that my new flavor would be featured in today’s specials—the townies flipped.

They were bound to be the new obsession of everyone in Castor’s Corner.

Even Mr. Dorian, who usually acted like I personally offended his ancestors every time he came into the bakery, had pre-ordered a dozen.

On a scale of one to ten, these babies were an eleven.

Conceited? Nah.

Confident? Absolutely.

False modesty will get you nowhere in life—Granny drilled that into me so hard I was surprised it didn’t appear in my Book of Shadows.

I was a fine baker.

No—scratch that.

I was a damn fine baker.

And if the Goddess herself descended from on high to try my Donut Delights, I’d probably get a celestial thumbs-up, and maybe a divine request for a dozen more.

But even better than having a brand new donut idea was how I felt today.

No doubting myself. Or him.

No regrets about last night at all, actually.

See, now that the hole in my heart I hadn’t even realized I was lugging around had been sneakily filled to bursting, my baking had taken on a life of its own.

Yeah, yeah, I’d been holding out on myself.

Too stubborn and too scared to admit that maybe—just maybe—my smexy pants Snake Shifter, Conrad, wasn’t the same as the walking dumpster fires I’d dated before.

He wasn’t some Jameson-Vorhees-type Warlock-wannabe with commitment issues and a personality like burnt toast.

Conrad was his own man.

And me? I wasn’t some naïve Kitchen Witch’s apprentice anymore.

I was Bella Strega, Kitchen Witch extraordinaire, with a thriving business, friends who loved me, and a sexy Python who made me see stars.

Conrad wasn’t trying to change me or own me.

He just wanted to be with me.

And I was about ninety-nine point nine and a half percent certain I wanted that, too.

Okay fine. I think I love the Snake.

I rounded the corner to The Tasty Tart with delicious thoughts of my sexy man swirling around my head and—holy crap.

Look at that line.

“Petyr! Mira!” I bellowed.