The Mage’s Maid

Mik Mastersson has it all together. He’s handsome, titled, accomplished, and a top-tier air-mage — and now, all he needs is a proper lord’s wife. 

The only problem is, he can’t keep his hands off his housemaid… 

Miss Kay Courser has loved Mik for years, and revels in all the secret, filthy ways she can bring her lord to his knees. 

But she knows she’ll never be wife material — and when Mik makes that truth painfully, appallingly clear, Kay decides she’s had enough. Enough of being a plaything, a toy, a convenient escape for a lord who doesn’t really care. 

Or does he? And when Mik comes home to find Kay gone, how far will he humble himself to bring his brilliant mistress back again? 


A hot, angsty, sexy short tale about plucky maids putting powerful lords in their proper place — and finding their own happily ever after.

Please note: Contains intense scenes, strong language, and mention of past unfaithfulness (for which amends are thoroughly made!). Intended for adult readers.

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The Mage’s Maid: Excerpt

Men like Mikkal Mastersson were supposed to get over their house girls. 

And gods knew, Mik had tried. It had been five years, probably, since he’d started fucking around, seeing what else was on offer. And for a tall, decent-looking air-mage like him, who just last year had inherited his late father’s lands and title, there was a hell of a lot on offer.

But still, Mik kept coming back to Kay. 

He could hear his footsteps quickening, the sound echoing off the high-ceilinged hallway, as he made his way to the manor’s north wing. To his rooms, which were situated rather closer to the servants’ quarters than anyone else’s, but there was a reason for that. Just as there was a reason why the rooms were well away from his mother’s and sister’s, and had a hefty lock installed on the main door. 

And that reason — Mik stepped inside, let out a slow breath — was here. Kay. 

She was standing by the crackling fireplace, with her back to the door, dressed in her usual black-and-white maid’s uniform. There was a dusting-cloth on the mantel, sliding itself back and forth, and across the room a fluffy feather-duster was sweeping over the polished wood of his bed’s huge headboard, making little swirling loops as it went.

There was no indication that Kay was responsible for that — there never was — and that was because Kay was without question the best maid-mage Mik had ever met. Technically an earth-mage, but trained to specialize in light textiles and brushes, and to use them to ensure their employers’ homes were spotlessly and effortlessly clean. 

Maid-mages were very fashionable these days, and in very high demand, but Miss Kay Courser had worked at Ryning Manor for upwards of twelve years, without complaint. Because — Mik swallowed hard, his eyes running up and down her back — she was his.

Buy on Amazon.com

Other purchase links: Amazon.ca | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.com.au