Fall in love in a weekwe get by

О книге

Автор книги - . Произведение относится к жанрам любовно-фантастические романы, любовное фэнтези, зарубежные любовные романы. Оно опубликовано в 2024 году. Книге не присвоен международный стандартный книжный номер.

Аннотация

Is it possible to fall in love by order? Yesterday I would have answered no. But today I simply have no choice. Never believe in magic and suddenly end up in a magical world! Know nothing about curses and suddenly take part in a dark ritual! It's all about me. And there is only a week left. Fall in love or die and drag your involuntary betrothed down with you. A nightmare, not a prospect. And no beautiful magical world can save you. And all because of the hysterical idiot whose body he managed to get into. Now I have a ghost among my advisors, a professor at the magic academy among my bosses, and in my bra there is such wealth that it is impossible to carry around. And what, one wonders, should we do with all this?

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1. CHAPTER 1. Day one: Tuesday

I always thought that the normal reaction to a ghost was to squeal. That is, of course, if you believe in this nonsense, and if not, carefully look around in search of a hidden camera, make a photogenic face and then squeal, moderately loudly and without losing your smile. Because modern special effects can do anything—probably even a ghost. Depict. Authentic, with a protruding aura, or whatever it's called, and just a step away from you. Like this one…

For some reason, it didn’t work out to squeal, but the thought of a hidden camera flashed and went away. I extended my hand and pointed my finger into the whitish, frozen fog – to where a face could barely be discerned in the swaying ghostly figure.

– Hey, be careful! Wow acquaintance – finger in the eye! – here the ghost, judging by the voice of a woman, stopped short, flew closer, hovered, as if he was peering intently at me. And he screamed so shrilly, as if he was being cut. Unless, of course, you can cut something intangible.

– What are you doing? – I asked, stunned.

– Body! At your place! “I wanted to cover my ears, but the ghost suddenly rushed towards me, I instinctively jumped back, tripped over something and fell, painfully hitting my butt on the hard and cold floor. And the ghost fell from above. Feeling – brrr!!! It’s like you’ve been swallowed by a slippery, scalding-icy jellyfish.

– Let me go! – I screamed.

But it was unlikely to be heard, because the ghost screamed along with me:

– Be careful, you clumsy fool! Ritual circle! Why did you lie down? Get up quickly!

“And I won’t think about it until you let me go,” I muttered. When something is demanded in such a boorish manner, and even with insults, one must react adequately, that is, either send them away, or put forward counter conditions. Preferably such that the boor himself will be sent away.

The whitish icy cloud moved away, I struggled to my suddenly weak legs and finally looked around.

A small room, no windows, the light comes from candles lined up in a circle on the floor. Smoothly plastered walls, thickly covered with incomprehensible symbols. The floor outside with candles is painted with the same symbols, the inside is perfectly smooth and clean… Concrete? No, a stone. Looks natural. Even the veins are visible, also gray, but lighter, whitish, like this ghost.


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