The Witch's Handbook to Hunting Vampires (Southern Single Mom Paranormal Mysteries 1) by Amy Boyles

Author:Amy Boyles [Boyles, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-04T23:00:00+00:00

We left in Stone’s new ride, an SUV that he drove much slower, which I approved of.

He handed me a plastic bag. “What’s this?” I said.

“In case you get sick.” He flashed me a wicked smile. “But I promise to try to drive slow.” He pressed a palm to his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

My own heart went pitter pat at that. I shoved it back down into the dungeon, where it wouldn’t be exposed and I couldn’t get hurt.

I sighed. I’d loved Dex so much. I didn’t want to live through losing someone again. After he died, I’d lay in bed every morning as long as I could imagining his fingers threading through my hair, his lips nuzzling my neck. A shiver raced down my spine. I shook the thoughts from my head.

“You know, that’s supposed to be two raised fingers for Scout’s honor.”

He shrugged. “Close enough.”

We pulled outside a small yellow house with gingerbread scroll running along the top. It was storybook pretty, with a picture window on one side.

“This is Jehoshaphat’s house?” I said.

“Yep. He lived with his mother.”

Stone parked, and I stepped onto the curb. A cool breeze threaded through my hair, plastering a lock to my lip gloss. I spit out a hunk.

“Eat hair much?” Stone said.

I rolled my eyes. “All the time. It’s my favorite snack.”

He smiled. “Mine too.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s your game; I’m just playing it.”

I shook my head. “There’s no game.”

He locked up the SUV. “Let’s go meet Mrs. Jehoshaphat.”

Stone rang the doorbell. I heard the shuffling of feet as Mrs. Jehoshaphat, presumably, approached. The chain lock tinkled and tumblers rolled as she undid the locks. The door opened to a mousy woman with light blonde hair twisted up into a bun.

“Hello?” she said.

“Mrs. Jehoshaphat? We were friends of Justin’s,” I said. “We wanted to ask you a few questions if you have time.”

She nodded. “Come on in.”

A few minutes later we sat with coffee cups in our hands in the delicately furnished living room. Mrs. Jehoshaphat had a love for all things porcelain that either portrayed animals or babies—which, in my opinion, meant she could collect just about everything ever cast in the breakable commodity.

“Justin was such a good boy,” she said, sniffling into a tissue. “He had a heart condition and wasn’t supposed to exert himself. As a child he avoided sports and got a decent job at the school. I always knew there was a possibility that he might pass sooner than me, but I never hoped so.”

She released a sob. I squeezed her knee. “I’m so sorry. He was a nice young man. I always talked to him for a few minutes whenever I saw him.”

Mrs. Jehoshaphat’s eyes brightened. “Would you like to see his room?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

She showed us into the dimly lit room. Rock posters covered the walls, and a few musical awards were displayed on shelves.

“He played the oboe,” she said, leaning against the door frame.

“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t know that.”

She brushed a speck of dust from her thigh.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.