It was her sisters' fault, really. Their idea that Evie use studly coffee slinger Caleb Mahoney for sex to get over her ex. It was supposed to be simple. Spell him into wanting her, get down and dirty with him, release all her pent-up sexual energy, and then do a simple forgetful spell. Easy magic for three sister witches. No biggie. Right?

Wrong. Every time Evie decides to come clean, well...they do it again. And again! It's not her fault...at least, she's pretty sure. Something niggles and itches deep in her brain every time she starts to confess.

Is it chemistry or bad magic? Has their simple bang-yourself-happy-again spell gone out of control? Is it amping up automagically? Or is it because the huge, shorn, loveable man—whoda thunk it?—is really good in bed? And the van...and the shower...and the... You get the picture.