A Djinn and Tonic: Antiques & Mystic Uniques Caravan, A Paranormal Psychic Cozy Mystery, Fantasy Romance and Suspense Novella - Book 5 (The Fortune-Telling Twins Mysteries) by Bettina M. Johnson

A Djinn and Tonic: Antiques & Mystic Uniques Caravan, A Paranormal Psychic Cozy Mystery, Fantasy Romance and Suspense Novella - Book 5 (The Fortune-Telling Twins Mysteries) by Bettina M. Johnson

Author:Bettina M. Johnson [Johnson, Bettina M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aqua Raven Publishing
Published: 2021-07-27T04:00:00+00:00


“No. It’s just a game board. Nothing arcane about it.”

I’d spent the last fifteen minutes looking at a variety of very nice Ouija boards, some dating back to the 1940s, but none of them worth more than five hundred dollars at best, and none possessing the “higher power of the ancients” that these yokels were hoping for.

That the Ouija board was a modern invention from the 1890s was lost on these people who seemed convinced they held ones from ancient times.

“There were no Ouija boards in ancient times. However, there were spirit boards used as far back as 550 BC in China and it is claimed that Pythagoras of Samos an ancient Ionian Greek philosopher who influenced both Plato and Aristotle, used talking boards to enhance his studies and "unearth revelations from the unseen world. Talking boards also have connections to Ancient Rome where two people used a spirit board to predict the successor to the emperor. They were tried for treason and eventually hung, and the claimed successor was immediately executed. Fun times. But...”

I trailed off as the offended cult member—I started to internally call this group cultists after the first twenty or so hit me with their outlandish beliefs—pushed away from my table in a huff and stalked over to Bella.

“You assuredly are too young even to comprehend what I’m holding. I cannot believe what a waste of time coming to this obviously inferior appraisal service is. I’m dashed!”

And with that, the woman, her name was Gloria, or Glorious or maybe it was Gladys, stomped out of the common room and back into the heat of the late morning sun.

I began to rub my eyes with the heels of my palm when I heard someone clear their throat. Looking over the tops of my fingertips which I’d run down the length of my face, so my mouth and nose were covered, I beheld a mild mannered man of no great distinction sporting a pleasant smile and a look that begged forgiveness for the behavior of his co-member.

“May I take a seat? I have a few items I’d like you to appraise. My name is Bob Somers.”

“My cat is named Bob. Nice to meet you. Please, sit.” I motioned the chair in front of my table, mentally clunking my head for offering up that bit of trivia about my cat. I must really be tired.

“He must certainly be quite the cat, then,” said Bob, taking the seat.

He had placed a medium-sized box at his feet and leaned down to bring up the first item in his collection. The second it hit my table I stifled a gasp. Now this was something to be excited about. With gloved hands I gently picked up what I knew to be a late 1800s matchstick box with tiny purple matches inside. The box was done up in a replica of a major arcana tarot card from the 17th century Lombardy Tarot deck with inscriptions on the back in French.

“This is very rare indeed,” I mumbled.



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