The A B C's of Witchery Boxed Set : Moonbeam Chronicles - Books 1 to 4 by Carolina Mac

Author:Carolina Mac [Mac, Carolina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-18T05:00:00+00:00

Goddess of the house

Guardian of the key

Release the ward

And set the key free

So mote it be.

“I’ve got it down,” said Ardal.

“Also,” said Misty, “there is a ghost living in the basement and he’s not particularly friendly. His name is George Washington Claiborne the Third. He has a cat living with him named Mojo.”

Ardal nodded. He had it all written down.

“Just tell George y’all are my guests and he’ll mind his own business.”

“Thanks, Misty,” said Rufin. “I’ll call when we get to N’Orleans.”

We headed back to the truck and Rufin took my hand. It was easy to see how unhappy he was. “She’s not going to like me, is she?” I asked.

“Mama has wanted me to settle down for a long while, but I’ve never met anyone I wanted to take home to meet her, until you, Gilly.”

That was about the nicest thing he’d ever said to me. I gave his hand a squeeze in appreciation.

“I’ll have to wait until the time is right, Gilly. I want her to meet you, I do, but now is not the time. She’s too upset by the upheaval in her life.”

“I get it. You’re nervous because I’m young and a bit unstable. I’m quitting smoking and concentrating on developing my powers. I’ll soon be a poster girl for a dandy witch girlfriend.”

Rufin laughed. “You’re dandy, just the way you are, Gilly. You don’t have to change a single thing.”

Hearing Rufin say the words made me happy. I could deal with his wicked witch of a mother if I had to. The new powers I’d received on my nineteenth birthday hadn’t even been given a trial run yet. I might be a formidable opponent if it came down to it and I had to fight for Rufin. If I couldn’t have Farrell, Rufin Pictou wasn’t a bad second choice.

I’d never tell Rufin he was my second pick. There would never be another Farrell. I just couldn’t have him.

I slid behind the wheel to take my turn driving. One glance at the GPS told me it was nine hours and thirteen minutes to New Orleans. A long, long way.

“Here we go. Y’all can take a nap. I’ve got this.”

Rufin smiled as he reached over and patted my thigh.

That’s progress, I guess. With Rufin, I could never be sure. He wasn’t an affectionate person by any means.

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