MoCoM01- Witching Ain't Easy by Silver Samantha & Page Evelynne

Author:Silver, Samantha & Page, Evelynne [Silver, Samantha & Page, Evelynne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cThriller, Supernatural, amazon
ISBN: 9781719308625
Google: BLQ9twEACAAJ
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2018-05-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

By the time I reached the Manor, my stomach was growling pretty fiercely. As in, more werewolf than kitten. I walked up to the front of my driveway, already fantasizing about what I had planned to cook for dinner, when I suddenly stopped short. I looked down.

The spot was clear now. The lawn was smooth and green as always, without a single corpse in sight. But I still had to gulp down a shiver of unease, like the place where Peter Olsen’s body was found was now contaminated, somehow. Haunted, even. It was almost like I could still see the faint outline of his body, spread out on the ground like a chalk outline from some overly-dramatic TV cop show.

“Come on, Arti,” I said aloud to myself. “Shake it off. You’ve got other things to worry about. Now’s not the time to get all spooky about your own front yard. You’re going to have to walk this driveway every day for the foreseeable future, so might as well get over any queasiness about it right now.”

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the place where his body once lay. I’d already spent the whole day thinking and overthinking about the whole horrible event. I had played amateur detective all day long, snooping around town, interviewing strangers, tricking minors into talking to me, and casting suspicion at just about everyone I knew and loved.

“Yeah. It’s time for a break,” I told myself firmly as I walked up the front steps of the Moonlight Cove Manor. It was high time I shrugged off the Sherlock Holmes cape and got back to my real job, the one I got paid for. I opened the front door and stepped into the foyer, hanging my cardigan on the antique brass coat rack by the door. I was itching to slip on my perpetually flour-caked apron and slide back into hospitality mode. I sucked in a deep, calming breath, smelling the familiar scents of home. Lemon and pine from the cleaning products Beth employed. Sage and juniper to cleanse the air and calm any negative vibrations the house might entertain from time to time. Cinnamon, vanilla, and paprika from the kitchen. The faint crackling electric smell of magic coursing through the walls and floors. And my favorite, the occasional refreshing sea-salt breeze of the ocean air drifting in from the shore.

All of these scents mingled in one deep breath and I felt the stress of the day rolling off my shoulders and dissolving into the air. I smiled fondly at the woodsy interiors, the high ceilings, the walls lined with old photographs in vintage frames, built-in bookshelves straining under the weight of hundreds of old books, collected and passed down through generations of my family. It was just about perfect, this place. It had its quirks, just like any old house, but overall it was a warm and inviting place, like a pair of wide-open arms just waiting to engulf me and hide me away, safe from the danger and commotion of the world outside.

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