HWM06-09 - A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection by Anderson Amorette

Author:Anderson, Amorette [Anderson, Amorette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amazon, cThriller, Supernatural
Publisher: Amorette Anderson
Published: 2019-08-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

The Death Café is closed to the public but open to me and my witch sisters. I push open the door and step inside, breathing in the delightful smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies as I go. My mom, Ellen Banks, used to bake chocolate chip cookies as an after school treat sometimes back when I was a kid, so I have a quick flashback of dumping my backpack on the apartment floor and running to my mom for a big after-school hug.

Memories like that used to make me sad. I was raised by my mom—I’ve never met my dad—and her loss left me feeling like an orphan. Now that almost eleven years have passed since her death, the sadness has been replaced with a soft sort of nostalgia. The fact that I’m studying magic doesn’t hurt, either. I’ve come to think about life and death in a whole different way.

Time heals, magic has changed my perspective, and on top of that, I have three amazing friends that have become a family to me. I no longer feel alone; instead, I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

I smile and greet Annie, Marley and Cora, who are seated around one of the café’s round tables. The table is covered in a white cloth, but the cloth is barely visible due to the many items piled on the small surface: Candles, a vase of flowers, a china teapot, four tea cups and saucers, our witchy study materials, knitting supplies of all shapes and sizes (you should see the giant needles that Marley’s working with these days), and a plate heaped with chocolate chip cookies.

“Those smell so good!” I say, as I approach. “If we’re not careful, we’re going to have some walk-ins off the street, looking for the source of deliciousness. I could smell these all the way down the block.”

“A walk-in wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Annie asks.

I pull a chair out from the table. “I suppose not,” I say. “I’m not opposed to letting more members into the group. But they’d have some catching up to do. Can you guys believe we’re already on cycle eight?”

The book we’re studying, called The Art and Science of Becoming a Witch, has thirteen cycles total. We’re more than half-way through!

Cora sets aside her knitting and reaches for her tea cup. “Already? Ha! I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lives since we started studying this book. So much has happened.” She rests her hand on her baby bump, which is looking exponentially larger than it was the last time I saw her.

I set my bag down at my side and give Turkey a pat before he leaps out and trots off, probably in search of the other familiars, who like to hang out in the back kitchen, having chats of their own.

Marley speaks up. “Well—a lot has happened to you, Cora, but not all of us have married a werewolf and gotten pregnant.”

I eye Cora’s belly again. “When’s the due date again?” I ask.

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