This is the last sample before Magick and Murder's release on Friday.
======================
Standing in canned fruits and vegetables aisle at the IGA, Kaley checked her list again and made a face. “Now where the heck is the cranberry sauce?”
“End cap.” River Martin pointed to the other end of the aisle. “All the canned pumpkin is down there, too.”
It was kind of weird shopping with him like they were a couple. Which they weren’t. At least, not officially though Donny and Mandy Jenkins teased her about it. Kaley consulted the list. “Then, we need green beans, fried onions, and mushrooms.”
“Whole, cut, or French-style?” he asked.
“Whole. Six cans.” She grabbed two canisters of the crunchy fried onions.
“Pieces or slices?”
“Slices. 2 small cans or one large.”
River paused with the large can in his hand. “What do these go in?”
“The green bean casserole, silly.”
He frowned. “No one I know puts mushrooms in green bean casserole.”
“They use cream of mushroom soup, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Your people dance around mushrooms. That’s the reason they’re called fairy circles.” She waved her hand nonchalantly.
He shook his head and made a face at her. “That’s so racist.”
She cocked her head. “How?”
“Do you make jokes about Donny Fryer peeing on hydrants? Do you make cracks about Carmen Alonzo driving a taco truck?”
“Oh.” Kaley winced. “I didn’t think about it that way. I’m really sorry.”
“Not to mention fairy is right up there with the n-word.” River made a slashing motion with his hand. “That’s a good way to find yourself at the pointy end of a sword.”
“The pointy end of a sword?” She grinned.
Red flooded his face and ears, which were decidedly round like his Normal mom’s were.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Do tell.” She giggled.
River ignored her comment and tugged on the basket end of their shopping cart. “What’s next on the list?”
“Nice try in changing the subject.” But she consulted her list. “We also need raisins for the mincemeat pie.”
River made a face. “Mincemeat?”
Kaley rolled her eyes as they walked to the end of the aisle where the dried fruit was. “Dad loves it, and Mom made a point of asking Grandma Wilson for the recipe before she passed away. Personally, I’m not a big fan of meaty and sweetie in the same dish.”
“So no pineapple with your ham?” He grabbed a bag of the store-brand raisins.
“That’s the one exception,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket. A sick feeling ran through her as she read Kirsten’s message. A ton of curse words ran through her mind. She whirled around, examining each face. Where would the next threat come from?
“Hey.” River grabbed her arm. “What happened?”
She couldn’t say a word past the lump of fear in her throat. She’d never been afraid of people in her hometown.
Not before today.
River gently cupped her right hand and raised it so he could see her phone screen. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.
“Let’s get your mom’s groceries,” he said softly. “That’ll be one thing off her mind. And Grandma and I will definitely be at your house on Thursday.”
Kaley swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s bringing the sweet potatoes, right?”
He grinned. “With lots of marshmallow fluff.”
“Fluff? No mini-marshmallows?”
“Trust me, you like this better. More marshmallow to potato flavor.”
“All right.” She nodded again.
River released her hand, and she found herself missing his touch. She shoved her phone back in her jeans pocket and snatched up Mom’s list to cover her discomfiture. “Let’s grab the cranberry sauce and pumpkin before heading to the dairy section.”
They raced as quickly as they could around the other shoppers and collected the remainder of Mom’s grocery list. Except when they reached the check-out lanes, other shoppers stared at her. However, it wasn’t the usual friendly faces of people recognizing one of the senior cheerleaders from her letterman jacket.
The elderly woman in line in front of Kaley gave her an odd look before she crossed herself. Now, what was that all about? Kaley frowned It wasn’t like she was wearing pentacles, and there was no way the woman could know about her steel triquetra key chain. The elderly woman slammed the divider down after her items and glared at Kaley as if daring her to move it.
She swallowed her unease. They just needed to get the groceries rung up and paid for so they could get the heck out of the grocery store. She and River unloaded items of the cart onto the conveyor belt.
Thankfully, they were in Shannon Murphy’s lane. Shannon had been Kaley and Kirsten’s babysitter when they were little. Her husband passed away shortly after he retired, she started working at the grocery store, more to do something than to supplement her savings.
“Hey, Shannon.”
“Hey, kiddo!” Shannon’s wide smile helped ease the tension in Kaley’s shoulders. “Your mom gotcha doing the Thanksgiving shopping, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s doing things up big since she’s afraid Kirsten and I will never come home for a holiday again.” Kaley grabbed her stack of reusable bags and started sacking groceries.
“And your friend?” Shannon said coyly.
“River, this is our friend Shannon.” Kaley chuckled at her former babysitter’s antics. “River is Cissy Martin’s grandson.”
“I’d heard Heather and her boy had moved back here. Nice to meet you River.” Shannon nodded to him.
“Ma’am.” He moved to the end of the line and started putting the cold items into the insulated bag.
“Kaley Wilson!”
Goddess, what now? She steeled herself before she turned to face Mrs. Ryder. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Your mother is just as dangerous as you are!” Mrs. Ryder shrieked as she waved her phone in Kaley’s face.
“What?” Kaley couldn’t make out anything on the video playing on the phone with Mrs. Ryder’s jerky motions.
River inserted himself in front of Mrs. Ryder and grabbed her wrist in mid-swing. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“Let me go,” she spat.
“Then quit trying to hit Kaley,” he bit back.
“What’s going on here?” The store manager Mr. Bickle strode toward Shannon’s aisle, a distraught expression on his face.
“Why are allowing those people to shop in your store?” Mrs. Ryder screeched.
“What people?” Mr. Bickle looked thoroughly confused.
“That bitch put a hex on my daughter!” Mrs. Ryder pointed at Kaley.
“Your daughter tried to hit me, and I ducked,” Kaley protested. “It’s not my fault she’s a clumsy cow and screwed up her knee.”
“Ladies, please.” Mr. Bickle looked like he was about to cry behind his wire rims.
“Of course, you get it straight from your mother!” Mrs. Ryder shook her fist at Kaley.
Shannon waddled from behind her register. “Do we need to call the police, or are you going to leave quietly?”
“You’re going let that little bitch stay?” Mrs. Ryder’s shock that someone took Kaley’s side was mirrored by a few other people. Everyone else simply appeared disgusted.
Shannon crossed her arms and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “That little girl ain’t the one causing a scene in public. You are. Now, once again, do I need to call the police?”
Realizing Shannon was the proverbial immoveable object, Mrs. Ryder turned to Mr. Bickle. “Are you going to let your employee insult me like that?”
The manager seemed to find his backbone. He straightened and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “The only one tossing out insults and creating a disturbance is you.”
“I’m going to report you to the owner,” Mrs. Ryder said.
Shannon pointed overhead. “Make sure you tell him about the security video capturing your performance when you call him. Oh, wait. Isn’t Ron Schneider your ex-husband?”
Mrs. Ryder blinked rapidly, shocked by the turnaround in circumstances. More than half of the crowd watching the drama tittered. Seeing no allies, she pivoted and marched out of the grocery store.
Shannon waddled back to her register. Kaley tried to breathe normally as she slipped Mom’s debit card into the reader. It took a couple of tries to get the PIN right. She could feel all the eyes on her. Finally, the device beeped, and she pulled out the card.
River had bagged the rest of the groceries and loaded them into the cart.
Shannon handed Kaley the receipt and gave her a reassuring smile. “You tell your mom and dad hello for me.”
“I will.” Kaley waved. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too, darling.”
Kaley and River headed for the exit. She sagged when she saw Mrs. Ryder still in the parking lot. Amelia’s mom was speaking with a man Kaley didn’t recognize.
He was a few inches taller than Mrs. Rider. He wore a leather jacket and jeans. His dark hair was just long enough not to be a buzz cut, but too short to be a crew cut. But the most prominent feature was a jagged scar down his cheek. The pair looked toward Kaley and River with ugly expressions on their faces.
Kaley and River quickly loaded their bags into the back of his blue PT Cruiser. Mrs. Ryder and the gentleman with her were still staring at them.
“Take a selfie,” River whispered.
“What?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her so their backs were to Mrs. Ryder and the stranger. Her body immediately warmed at his touch, but she did as he asked and took a picture of the two of them.
“Can you do a close-up of the guy with Mrs. Ryder?” River whispered.
Kirsten swallowed and changed the settings. River nodded when he saw the resulting photo. “Send a copy to me.”
“Why?”
“In case anything happens to your phone. Get in the car,” River whispered. “I’ll take care of the cart.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Kaley whispered back.
“Who? Me?” River shot her a devilish grin.
That expression sent a shiver through her. No wonder Olivia Burke looked at him like a prime Angus steak. Kaley could see why River’s mom had fallen under his dad’s spell. She nodded and climbed into his car.
It never failed to amaze her how clean the interior of his Cruiser was compared to the cars of all the other guys in school. And it always smelled like cedar and baklava inside though he didn’t have an air freshener anywhere. She had checked.
Fae magick jabbed Kaley’s psyche, and despite the need to raise a ward, she concentrated to keep her own power from reacting to the alien sensation. River opened the driver side door and slid into the Cruiser. A self-satisfied smirk tilted his mouth.
She crossed her arms. “What did you do?”
“Nothing that’ll harm anyone.”
“What. Did. You. Do.”
“You’re not the only one who has talent with air.” He grinned and backed out of their parking space.
As they drove past Mrs. Ryder, Kaley could see the tires on her Cadillac. Especially the flat front left tire.
While she didn’t blame River, that was going to come back to bite them in the ass. Especially with the Humanity Now protesters in town.
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Showing posts with label Magick and Murder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Magick and Murder. Show all posts
Monday, May 11, 2020
Monday, May 4, 2020
Magick and Murder - Chapter 3
The latest unedited chapter of Book 3 in the Millersburg Magick Mysteries series.
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Kirsten scrambled to her feet. Mom and Jo stood side-by-side. Fireballs glowed in their hands. The crowd murmured, their hate and fear evident, but none of them dared to take a step forward.
“You dare to threaten us in front of officers of the law?” Simon sneered.
“You assaulted a citizen of Millersburg.” Police Chief Patricia Hall marched toward the standoff.
She wasn’t alone. Three more officers followed her. In the distance, sirens wailed. The chief must have called the sheriff’s department for backup. She stopped beside Kirsten.
“Are you all right, Ms. Wilson?” Chief Hall eyed her with a bit of worry.
Kirsten rubbed her diaphragm. “I had worse from a Tri-Valley player during last year’s tournament.” It hurt to take more than a shallow breath, but she was pretty sure nothing was broken.
“Would you like to press charges?”
“She’s a child,” one of the women in the crowd said.
“I’m not the one dumb enough to assault a child in front of five law officers,” Chief Hall replied mildly. “Or her mother.”
“She tried to kill us.” Simon jabbed his right index finger in the direction of Mom. Several of his cronies nodded and muttered in agreement.
“If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Mom said calmly.
“I want to file charges,” Jo spat. “Take a look at what these asshats did to my window. One of them threw a stone through my window. They’re damn lucky they didn’t hurt anyone.”
Chief Hall eyed the window and turned back to the crowd. “One of you want to take responsibility, or shall I charge everyone with disorderly conduct?”
“We have a right to defend ourselves,” Simon shouted.
“You don’t have a right to vandalize property and tie up downtown traffic,” Chief Hall said. Someone in the direction of South Mason Street honked their car horn as if to emphasize the police chief’s point.
“You can’t violate our first amendment rights!” Simon shouted. That seemed to be his method for dealing with things when he knew he was losing.
Kirsten counted to twenty before the chief smiled and sweetly said, “If that’s the way you want to play it, Mr. Simon.” She raised her voice. “Officers, every protest participant get a ticket if they don’t get back on the sidewalk in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…”
Most of the protestors scrambled back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, everyone except for Simon and a couple of others.
“Seven, six, five…” Chief Hall continued. Kirsten held her breath.
“Get on the sidewalk,” Simon said over his shoulder. Even as the last of his followers retreated, he stood toe-to-toe with Mom. “You are going to hell.”
Mom clenched her fists and extinguished the fireballs. “As a member of the press, I also have certain first amendment rights. You’d better remember that.”
Her statement broke Cory’s paralysis at the confrontation. He started snapping more pictures. Kirsten couldn’t blame the guy. The most excitement in town was usually high school games, car accidents, and the occasional fire.
“Two, one.” Chief Hall reached for her handcuffs on her utility belt. “Warren Simon, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent—”
The rest of what she said was swallowed by a chorus of boos and jeers from the protestors. Sheriffs’ deputies joined the police officers to form a wall between the crowd and the street. Eastbound traffic started to ease down Jackson Street while Chief Hall cuffed Simon.
Jo extinguish her fireballs as well, pivoted on her heel and marched back to her café. However, Mom and Simon continued to glare at each other.
Kirsten grabbed Mom’s arm and tugged on her. “Come on. Let’s get out of the street before Chief Hall has to arrest us, too.”
“Yes, run while you can, witch,” Simon spat.
Mom stepped closer to him. “I’d be very careful about who I threaten if I were you.”
“Rachel, step back,” Chief Hall barked.
“C’mon, Mom.” The last thing Kirsten wanted was to fight publicly with her own mother, but better that than getting into a brawl with the police or the protesters. No one would look good in that situation.
Mom relented, and the two of them retreated to the café. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder. Chief Hall escorted Simon to a squad car, but she stopped and exchanged words with Sheriff Birkheimer.
Inside the coffee shop, Jo took pictures of the damage to her store with her cell phone while Kirsten settled Mom in a chair on the other side of the dining area. Mary hurried back to the cooler and retrieved a bottle of water. She brought it over to Mom who accepted it with a tired smile.
“Thank you, Mary,” Mom murmured. All the tension flowed out of her, but she gripped Kirsten’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you kept your head out there, honey, but you shouldn’t have confronted those idiots.”
“Me confront them?” Kirsten squeezed Mom’s hand. “I seem to recall it was you and Jo tossing threats and fireballs. Besides, I was only trying to get Jo back inside before she did something stupid.”
“Me do something stupid?” Jo lowered her phone. “I didn’t start throwing rocks.”
The bell hanging on the door rang. Everyone jumped. Sheriff Birkheimer appeared poked his head around the edge. “Can I come in, ladies?”
“That depends,” Jo folded her arms over her chest. “What are you planning to do?”
“Now, Jo, you know I’m not your enemy.” He removed his hat and ran his hand over his short brown hair. “I’m here to make sure you guys are all right, and take your statements regarding the broken window.”
He pulled out his notebook and pen from his pocket. For the next half hour, he asked questions of the four people in the coffee shop when the rock crashed through the window. Another deputy came in and took pictures. Jo’s phone rang, and she disappeared back in her office to discuss the damages with her insurance company.
“Why are you really keeping us here, Jimmy?” Mom adopted the same cross-armed, wide feet posture Jo had when he came in. “You, of all people, know a reporter shouldn’t be part of the story, Rachel.” His tone was calm, but there was something in his eyes.
“Warren Simon wants you to file charges against Mom, doesn’t he?” Kirsten said.
“His lawyer has already called the mayor and the county commissioners.” Sheriff Birkheimer was obviously not happy about the situation from the way he fidgeted. “If we file charges against him, it’ll be all over the national news that we didn’t hold a witch to the same standards as a Normal.”
Mom jabbed her left index finger in Kirsten’s direction. “They threatened my daughter!”
“But they didn’t throw a fireball at her.” The sheriff played with the brim of his hat.
“No, they threw a stone through my aunt’s shop window!” The unfairness of the entire situation galled Kirsten, even though she knew how this would end.
“Did any of you get pictures or video of the jerk who threw it?” he asked.
Kirsten sagged. Mom, Mary, and Rose all shook their heads.
“They’ve got video of Mom throwing the fireball, don’t they?” Kirsten hugged herself.
“Yeah.” Sheriff Birkheimer grimaced. “Damn thing’s already been uploaded to the Humanity Now website and getting hits. It doesn’t make you look good, Rachel.”
Mom muttered a two-word phrase Kirsten had never heard her say, but it definitely applied to the protesters. Mary covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.
“Tell Jo I’ll swing by with the incident when I get my coffee in the morning.” The sheriff replaced his hat and nodded to everyone. He and the deputy with the camera left.
“What do we do about the window?” Mary asked.
“We clean up the glass and see if we can get a delivery from the lumberyard in the next hour,” Kirsten said. She head for the back room of the store to fetch the broom, the dustpan, and the huge heavy-duty rubber trash can.
Simon had definitely been trying to goad Jo into doing something stupid. Unfortunately, Mom delivered what the Humanity Now idiots wanted. Now, they knew why, but what on earth did they do to stop the organization form using that blasted video against all supernaturals?
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Kirsten scrambled to her feet. Mom and Jo stood side-by-side. Fireballs glowed in their hands. The crowd murmured, their hate and fear evident, but none of them dared to take a step forward.
“You dare to threaten us in front of officers of the law?” Simon sneered.
“You assaulted a citizen of Millersburg.” Police Chief Patricia Hall marched toward the standoff.
She wasn’t alone. Three more officers followed her. In the distance, sirens wailed. The chief must have called the sheriff’s department for backup. She stopped beside Kirsten.
“Are you all right, Ms. Wilson?” Chief Hall eyed her with a bit of worry.
Kirsten rubbed her diaphragm. “I had worse from a Tri-Valley player during last year’s tournament.” It hurt to take more than a shallow breath, but she was pretty sure nothing was broken.
“Would you like to press charges?”
“She’s a child,” one of the women in the crowd said.
“I’m not the one dumb enough to assault a child in front of five law officers,” Chief Hall replied mildly. “Or her mother.”
“She tried to kill us.” Simon jabbed his right index finger in the direction of Mom. Several of his cronies nodded and muttered in agreement.
“If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Mom said calmly.
“I want to file charges,” Jo spat. “Take a look at what these asshats did to my window. One of them threw a stone through my window. They’re damn lucky they didn’t hurt anyone.”
Chief Hall eyed the window and turned back to the crowd. “One of you want to take responsibility, or shall I charge everyone with disorderly conduct?”
“We have a right to defend ourselves,” Simon shouted.
“You don’t have a right to vandalize property and tie up downtown traffic,” Chief Hall said. Someone in the direction of South Mason Street honked their car horn as if to emphasize the police chief’s point.
“You can’t violate our first amendment rights!” Simon shouted. That seemed to be his method for dealing with things when he knew he was losing.
Kirsten counted to twenty before the chief smiled and sweetly said, “If that’s the way you want to play it, Mr. Simon.” She raised her voice. “Officers, every protest participant get a ticket if they don’t get back on the sidewalk in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…”
Most of the protestors scrambled back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, everyone except for Simon and a couple of others.
“Seven, six, five…” Chief Hall continued. Kirsten held her breath.
“Get on the sidewalk,” Simon said over his shoulder. Even as the last of his followers retreated, he stood toe-to-toe with Mom. “You are going to hell.”
Mom clenched her fists and extinguished the fireballs. “As a member of the press, I also have certain first amendment rights. You’d better remember that.”
Her statement broke Cory’s paralysis at the confrontation. He started snapping more pictures. Kirsten couldn’t blame the guy. The most excitement in town was usually high school games, car accidents, and the occasional fire.
“Two, one.” Chief Hall reached for her handcuffs on her utility belt. “Warren Simon, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent—”
The rest of what she said was swallowed by a chorus of boos and jeers from the protestors. Sheriffs’ deputies joined the police officers to form a wall between the crowd and the street. Eastbound traffic started to ease down Jackson Street while Chief Hall cuffed Simon.
Jo extinguish her fireballs as well, pivoted on her heel and marched back to her café. However, Mom and Simon continued to glare at each other.
Kirsten grabbed Mom’s arm and tugged on her. “Come on. Let’s get out of the street before Chief Hall has to arrest us, too.”
“Yes, run while you can, witch,” Simon spat.
Mom stepped closer to him. “I’d be very careful about who I threaten if I were you.”
“Rachel, step back,” Chief Hall barked.
“C’mon, Mom.” The last thing Kirsten wanted was to fight publicly with her own mother, but better that than getting into a brawl with the police or the protesters. No one would look good in that situation.
Mom relented, and the two of them retreated to the café. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder. Chief Hall escorted Simon to a squad car, but she stopped and exchanged words with Sheriff Birkheimer.
Inside the coffee shop, Jo took pictures of the damage to her store with her cell phone while Kirsten settled Mom in a chair on the other side of the dining area. Mary hurried back to the cooler and retrieved a bottle of water. She brought it over to Mom who accepted it with a tired smile.
“Thank you, Mary,” Mom murmured. All the tension flowed out of her, but she gripped Kirsten’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you kept your head out there, honey, but you shouldn’t have confronted those idiots.”
“Me confront them?” Kirsten squeezed Mom’s hand. “I seem to recall it was you and Jo tossing threats and fireballs. Besides, I was only trying to get Jo back inside before she did something stupid.”
“Me do something stupid?” Jo lowered her phone. “I didn’t start throwing rocks.”
The bell hanging on the door rang. Everyone jumped. Sheriff Birkheimer appeared poked his head around the edge. “Can I come in, ladies?”
“That depends,” Jo folded her arms over her chest. “What are you planning to do?”
“Now, Jo, you know I’m not your enemy.” He removed his hat and ran his hand over his short brown hair. “I’m here to make sure you guys are all right, and take your statements regarding the broken window.”
He pulled out his notebook and pen from his pocket. For the next half hour, he asked questions of the four people in the coffee shop when the rock crashed through the window. Another deputy came in and took pictures. Jo’s phone rang, and she disappeared back in her office to discuss the damages with her insurance company.
“Why are you really keeping us here, Jimmy?” Mom adopted the same cross-armed, wide feet posture Jo had when he came in. “You, of all people, know a reporter shouldn’t be part of the story, Rachel.” His tone was calm, but there was something in his eyes.
“Warren Simon wants you to file charges against Mom, doesn’t he?” Kirsten said.
“His lawyer has already called the mayor and the county commissioners.” Sheriff Birkheimer was obviously not happy about the situation from the way he fidgeted. “If we file charges against him, it’ll be all over the national news that we didn’t hold a witch to the same standards as a Normal.”
Mom jabbed her left index finger in Kirsten’s direction. “They threatened my daughter!”
“But they didn’t throw a fireball at her.” The sheriff played with the brim of his hat.
“No, they threw a stone through my aunt’s shop window!” The unfairness of the entire situation galled Kirsten, even though she knew how this would end.
“Did any of you get pictures or video of the jerk who threw it?” he asked.
Kirsten sagged. Mom, Mary, and Rose all shook their heads.
“They’ve got video of Mom throwing the fireball, don’t they?” Kirsten hugged herself.
“Yeah.” Sheriff Birkheimer grimaced. “Damn thing’s already been uploaded to the Humanity Now website and getting hits. It doesn’t make you look good, Rachel.”
Mom muttered a two-word phrase Kirsten had never heard her say, but it definitely applied to the protesters. Mary covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.
“Tell Jo I’ll swing by with the incident when I get my coffee in the morning.” The sheriff replaced his hat and nodded to everyone. He and the deputy with the camera left.
“What do we do about the window?” Mary asked.
“We clean up the glass and see if we can get a delivery from the lumberyard in the next hour,” Kirsten said. She head for the back room of the store to fetch the broom, the dustpan, and the huge heavy-duty rubber trash can.
Simon had definitely been trying to goad Jo into doing something stupid. Unfortunately, Mom delivered what the Humanity Now idiots wanted. Now, they knew why, but what on earth did they do to stop the organization form using that blasted video against all supernaturals?
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Magick and Murder - Chapter 2
Here's the unedited second chapter of my next release!
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Kirsten automatically shielded Mary and Rose with her body while Jo threw up a shield. Glass smack the magickal ward and tinkled to the linoleum as the projectile cracked against wood. Jo muttered an obscenity and charged for the locked front doors.
“You two okay?” Kirsten asked her friends. Both women nodded. They all looked over at the chair that had been knocked over. A softball-sized river stone lay on the broken back slat of the chair. It looked like the same stones the landscapers used as barriers around the flowering plants on the courthouse grounds.
Before Kirsten could reach her aunt, Jo had one of the doors unlocked and stormed outside. The bell jangled with her anger. Jeering and booing came from much closer, even accounting for the broken window. Kirsten raced after her. If Jo did anything to the crowd, it would only add ammunition to their claims that supernaturals were dangerous.
Outside, the protestors formed a semi-circle in the middle of the street, the open end facing Jo’s Coffee Shop. Cars honked and a couple of truckers blared their horns, which added to the cacophony. The two officers assigned to keep an eye on the crowd tried to guide the members of Humanity Now back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, but they not only were ignored, but woefully outmatched.
Worse, Jo stood toe-to-toe with Warren Simon in the middle of the semi-circle. Kirsten couldn’t catch exactly what they were shouting at each other.
Over the mob’s heads, a familiar mahogany ponytail bounced toward them from South Monroe Street. Cory Parsons, the Monitor’s staff photographer, towered over the crowd at six-six, and he was headed east on Jackson toward Mom’s direction.
Mom’s job as the editor-in-chief was to report on events objectively. And right now, Jo sure wasn’t being objective. Kirsten ran out into the street and grabbed Jo’s arm. “Come on, these jerks aren’t worth it.” She said the words aloud and telepathically.
Jo jerked out of her hold. “I’m going to sue your ass into the next century, Simon!”
“Go ahead!” he shouted back. “Then everyone will see your immorality!”
Kirsten pushed her body between Jo’s and Simon’s. Don’t let him bait you, Jo. He’s doing this to make you look bad. “I don’t care!” Jo jabbed her finger over Kirsten’s shoulder. “They could killed you or Mary or one of our customers!” “And you breed heathen, Satan-loving sluts,” Simon shouted behind her.
With the volatile emotion raging around them, someone really was going to get hurt. Where the heck had the two police officers disappeared to?
Jo, for the sake of the Goddess and everything on Earth, please go inside!
A troubled look appeared on Jo’s face. Maybe their predicament was finally getting through to her. She took a hesitant step back, obviously forced herself to calm down, and took two more steps back.
Kirsten relaxed a hair and started to follow Jo when someone plowed into her from behind.
She’d been body-checked enough times over the years of playing basketball. Fighting the instinct to put her arms out, she curled and rolled with the force of the shove.
Except the asphalt of Jackson Street was a heck of a lot harder than the wooden boards of the West Holmes High School basketball court. The landing knocked every molecule of air out of her lungs.
The crowd surged forward. Primal fear consumed her. This crowd wanted blood. Her blood.
A fireball whizzed over her head between her and the crowd. It startled the Humanity Now protesters into silence. The acrid odor of fear was a tangible thing permeating the street.
“Get the hell away from my daughter now!”
Mom.
The one person who never displayed her talents in public.
=======================
Kirsten automatically shielded Mary and Rose with her body while Jo threw up a shield. Glass smack the magickal ward and tinkled to the linoleum as the projectile cracked against wood. Jo muttered an obscenity and charged for the locked front doors.
“You two okay?” Kirsten asked her friends. Both women nodded. They all looked over at the chair that had been knocked over. A softball-sized river stone lay on the broken back slat of the chair. It looked like the same stones the landscapers used as barriers around the flowering plants on the courthouse grounds.
Before Kirsten could reach her aunt, Jo had one of the doors unlocked and stormed outside. The bell jangled with her anger. Jeering and booing came from much closer, even accounting for the broken window. Kirsten raced after her. If Jo did anything to the crowd, it would only add ammunition to their claims that supernaturals were dangerous.
Outside, the protestors formed a semi-circle in the middle of the street, the open end facing Jo’s Coffee Shop. Cars honked and a couple of truckers blared their horns, which added to the cacophony. The two officers assigned to keep an eye on the crowd tried to guide the members of Humanity Now back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, but they not only were ignored, but woefully outmatched.
Worse, Jo stood toe-to-toe with Warren Simon in the middle of the semi-circle. Kirsten couldn’t catch exactly what they were shouting at each other.
Over the mob’s heads, a familiar mahogany ponytail bounced toward them from South Monroe Street. Cory Parsons, the Monitor’s staff photographer, towered over the crowd at six-six, and he was headed east on Jackson toward Mom’s direction.
Mom’s job as the editor-in-chief was to report on events objectively. And right now, Jo sure wasn’t being objective. Kirsten ran out into the street and grabbed Jo’s arm. “Come on, these jerks aren’t worth it.” She said the words aloud and telepathically.
Jo jerked out of her hold. “I’m going to sue your ass into the next century, Simon!”
“Go ahead!” he shouted back. “Then everyone will see your immorality!”
Kirsten pushed her body between Jo’s and Simon’s. Don’t let him bait you, Jo. He’s doing this to make you look bad. “I don’t care!” Jo jabbed her finger over Kirsten’s shoulder. “They could killed you or Mary or one of our customers!” “And you breed heathen, Satan-loving sluts,” Simon shouted behind her.
With the volatile emotion raging around them, someone really was going to get hurt. Where the heck had the two police officers disappeared to?
Jo, for the sake of the Goddess and everything on Earth, please go inside!
A troubled look appeared on Jo’s face. Maybe their predicament was finally getting through to her. She took a hesitant step back, obviously forced herself to calm down, and took two more steps back.
Kirsten relaxed a hair and started to follow Jo when someone plowed into her from behind.
She’d been body-checked enough times over the years of playing basketball. Fighting the instinct to put her arms out, she curled and rolled with the force of the shove.
Except the asphalt of Jackson Street was a heck of a lot harder than the wooden boards of the West Holmes High School basketball court. The landing knocked every molecule of air out of her lungs.
The crowd surged forward. Primal fear consumed her. This crowd wanted blood. Her blood.
A fireball whizzed over her head between her and the crowd. It startled the Humanity Now protesters into silence. The acrid odor of fear was a tangible thing permeating the street.
“Get the hell away from my daughter now!”
Mom.
The one person who never displayed her talents in public.
Monday, April 20, 2020
Magick and Murder - Chapter 1
I think I've got everything fixed with Fae and Felonies. At least, the copy I downloaded from Amazon was correct. If you got a copy with less than twenty-one (21) chapters, contact me. I'll make it right.
In the meantime, I'll give you a taste of book 3 of the Millersburg Magick Mysteries, Magick and Murder.
---------------------------------------------
Kirsten Wilson kept an eye on the protesters across the street from Aunt Jo’s coffee shop as she served their only two customers. The huge double-paned picture windows didn’t block the crowd’s shouts. The auras around the Normals who marched were ugly smears of gray, their hatred marring their usual rainbow colors. They paraded up and down the block of East Jackson Street in front of the Holmes County courthouse. The Normal protesters shot even uglier looks at the coffee shop as they shouted their awful slogans.
She wished all of them were simply people from Cleveland or elsewhere, but she recognized more faces than she was comfortable with, including Amelia Ryder’s mom. People in Millersburg may get into a snit fit if the neighbor’s dog pooped in their lawn. Maybe the occasional DUI or domestic abuse situation. But nothing so bigoted as marching in in hatred because someone was different.
Heck, Jo’s status as a witch had been an open secret in the area, long before the Rainier Outing revealed the existence of the supernatural races twelve years ago. The ladies in town often consulted her about their problems. A lot of farmers stopped in for a hot breakfast and even hotter coffee with a side helping of weather predictions. But with the current lawsuits questioning the supernaturals’ status as United States citizens, some nasty elements in Normal society decided integration was something to be avoided at all costs.
An occasional dead leaf drifted down the street on the wind, a reminder that the earth was settling in for its long winter sleep. But it was an unusually bright, sunny day for Ohio this close to Thanksgiving despite the steady breeze. The brilliant blue sky silhouetted the three-story stone historic courthouse. However, its imposing features didn’t deter the protesters. Neither did the couple of police officers watching them to make sure they didn’t get out hand. A couple of the idiots had tried to annoy people heading into the courthouse, both Amish and English alike. But after one warning from the police, Warren Simon, the leader of Humanity Now, reined in his followers.
Kirsten nibbled on her lower lip. Why did anyone follow a man like that? There was nothing really imposing about him. He was average height and average build for a Normal in his forties. His sandy brown hair was thinning on top. His round black spectacles gave him an owlish expression. Standard khaki slacks and a navy windbreaker over his white shirt looked like every other dad at the local basketball games. Scuffed dark brown loafers completed his dad ensemble. If he wasn’t one of the top anti-supernatural leaders in the country, she would have mistaken him for an accountant.
Mary Levy joined Kirsten at the window. The ties of her prayer cap dangled over her shoulders, as startling white against her navy blue dress as her apron was. She’d given up on cleaning the tables, not that they really needed it. Her bucket of lemony sanitizer competed with the rich aroma of fresh ground beans. Beans that would go to waste. None of their usual weekday regulars were coming in. Not today. Not with the mob across the street.
“No good will come of this many angry English in town.” Mary shook her head.
Even though Mary was a month younger than Kirsten, the Amish considered her an adult. Sometimes, Kirsten was envious of Mary’s status in her own community. Other times, not so much. The two of them had been friends as long as Kirsten could remember, but the Levys never so much as commented on the Wilson family’s differences from other English. Maybe because Mary’s great-great-aunt had been a vampire.
The reporter from Cleveland rose from his table. He’d come in for a sandwich and attempted to chat Jo up. She could be incredibly charming when she wanted to be, but she delivered only stiff politeness to the reporter.
“Thank you, ladies.” He nodded to Kristen and Mary.
“Have a good day,” Kirsten automatically replied with a smile.
He exited the café to a series of boos from the crowd that drowned out the ringing of the bell on the door. That left Rose Gleason, Jo’s closest friend in town. She sat in the right front corner of the café, sipping her cinnamon latte, and also watching the protesters across the street.
Jo joined Kirsten and Mary at the left window, her attention on the crowd as well. “Let’s clean up and close up shop, ladies. We’re not going to get much more business today.”
“Isn’t that giving in to these assholes?” Kirsten stared at her great-aunt. It wasn’t like Jo to act intimidated by anyone.
You can protect yourself, Jo said silently. Hell, even Rose can swing her cane like a pro polo player. But Mary won’t defend herself if that crowd gets physical, and I don’t want to see her hurt.
She had a point.
Kirsten turned to Mary. “Let me give you a ride home.”
For once, Mary didn’t argue about being in a car. She merely nodded before she grabbed her bucket and continued wiping down the tables.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, everything had been swept, cleaned, and put away.
“Rose, I’ll drop you off at your place,” Jo said as three of them put on their jackets. Mary placed her black bonnet on her head and wrapped her black shawl around her torso.
“I walked up here by myself,” the seventy-year-old Normal snapped. “I can walk home.” Rose strolled the four blocks from her old Victorian to coffee shop every day there wasn’t rain, snow, or ice.
“Miz Rose,” Mary said gently. “Not even I’m foolish enough to walk home with those people across the street. There’s no sense courting trouble when it is avoidable.”
Rose glared at her overtop the bright orange rims of her spectacles. “Maybe a good whack over their heads would knock some sense into those idiots.”
“That’s assault,” Jo said. “And you know those assholes will press charges.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “What’re you going to do? Hex me if I don’t obey you?”
“Maybe I will, you old fart,” Jo growled. Even though they were born the same year, Jo aged more slowly being a witch, which meant she could have passed for Kaley’s mom.
Or Rose’s daughter.
Kaley leaned close to Mary and said not so quietly, “Is this what we’re going to be like in fifty years?”
“Probably.” Mary giggled. “But I will not be wearing such colorful eyewear—”
Glass exploded into the café from the left picture window.
In the meantime, I'll give you a taste of book 3 of the Millersburg Magick Mysteries, Magick and Murder.
---------------------------------------------
Kirsten Wilson kept an eye on the protesters across the street from Aunt Jo’s coffee shop as she served their only two customers. The huge double-paned picture windows didn’t block the crowd’s shouts. The auras around the Normals who marched were ugly smears of gray, their hatred marring their usual rainbow colors. They paraded up and down the block of East Jackson Street in front of the Holmes County courthouse. The Normal protesters shot even uglier looks at the coffee shop as they shouted their awful slogans.
She wished all of them were simply people from Cleveland or elsewhere, but she recognized more faces than she was comfortable with, including Amelia Ryder’s mom. People in Millersburg may get into a snit fit if the neighbor’s dog pooped in their lawn. Maybe the occasional DUI or domestic abuse situation. But nothing so bigoted as marching in in hatred because someone was different.
Heck, Jo’s status as a witch had been an open secret in the area, long before the Rainier Outing revealed the existence of the supernatural races twelve years ago. The ladies in town often consulted her about their problems. A lot of farmers stopped in for a hot breakfast and even hotter coffee with a side helping of weather predictions. But with the current lawsuits questioning the supernaturals’ status as United States citizens, some nasty elements in Normal society decided integration was something to be avoided at all costs.
An occasional dead leaf drifted down the street on the wind, a reminder that the earth was settling in for its long winter sleep. But it was an unusually bright, sunny day for Ohio this close to Thanksgiving despite the steady breeze. The brilliant blue sky silhouetted the three-story stone historic courthouse. However, its imposing features didn’t deter the protesters. Neither did the couple of police officers watching them to make sure they didn’t get out hand. A couple of the idiots had tried to annoy people heading into the courthouse, both Amish and English alike. But after one warning from the police, Warren Simon, the leader of Humanity Now, reined in his followers.
Kirsten nibbled on her lower lip. Why did anyone follow a man like that? There was nothing really imposing about him. He was average height and average build for a Normal in his forties. His sandy brown hair was thinning on top. His round black spectacles gave him an owlish expression. Standard khaki slacks and a navy windbreaker over his white shirt looked like every other dad at the local basketball games. Scuffed dark brown loafers completed his dad ensemble. If he wasn’t one of the top anti-supernatural leaders in the country, she would have mistaken him for an accountant.
Mary Levy joined Kirsten at the window. The ties of her prayer cap dangled over her shoulders, as startling white against her navy blue dress as her apron was. She’d given up on cleaning the tables, not that they really needed it. Her bucket of lemony sanitizer competed with the rich aroma of fresh ground beans. Beans that would go to waste. None of their usual weekday regulars were coming in. Not today. Not with the mob across the street.
“No good will come of this many angry English in town.” Mary shook her head.
Even though Mary was a month younger than Kirsten, the Amish considered her an adult. Sometimes, Kirsten was envious of Mary’s status in her own community. Other times, not so much. The two of them had been friends as long as Kirsten could remember, but the Levys never so much as commented on the Wilson family’s differences from other English. Maybe because Mary’s great-great-aunt had been a vampire.
The reporter from Cleveland rose from his table. He’d come in for a sandwich and attempted to chat Jo up. She could be incredibly charming when she wanted to be, but she delivered only stiff politeness to the reporter.
“Thank you, ladies.” He nodded to Kristen and Mary.
“Have a good day,” Kirsten automatically replied with a smile.
He exited the café to a series of boos from the crowd that drowned out the ringing of the bell on the door. That left Rose Gleason, Jo’s closest friend in town. She sat in the right front corner of the café, sipping her cinnamon latte, and also watching the protesters across the street.
Jo joined Kirsten and Mary at the left window, her attention on the crowd as well. “Let’s clean up and close up shop, ladies. We’re not going to get much more business today.”
“Isn’t that giving in to these assholes?” Kirsten stared at her great-aunt. It wasn’t like Jo to act intimidated by anyone.
You can protect yourself, Jo said silently. Hell, even Rose can swing her cane like a pro polo player. But Mary won’t defend herself if that crowd gets physical, and I don’t want to see her hurt.
She had a point.
Kirsten turned to Mary. “Let me give you a ride home.”
For once, Mary didn’t argue about being in a car. She merely nodded before she grabbed her bucket and continued wiping down the tables.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, everything had been swept, cleaned, and put away.
“Rose, I’ll drop you off at your place,” Jo said as three of them put on their jackets. Mary placed her black bonnet on her head and wrapped her black shawl around her torso.
“I walked up here by myself,” the seventy-year-old Normal snapped. “I can walk home.” Rose strolled the four blocks from her old Victorian to coffee shop every day there wasn’t rain, snow, or ice.
“Miz Rose,” Mary said gently. “Not even I’m foolish enough to walk home with those people across the street. There’s no sense courting trouble when it is avoidable.”
Rose glared at her overtop the bright orange rims of her spectacles. “Maybe a good whack over their heads would knock some sense into those idiots.”
“That’s assault,” Jo said. “And you know those assholes will press charges.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “What’re you going to do? Hex me if I don’t obey you?”
“Maybe I will, you old fart,” Jo growled. Even though they were born the same year, Jo aged more slowly being a witch, which meant she could have passed for Kaley’s mom.
Or Rose’s daughter.
Kaley leaned close to Mary and said not so quietly, “Is this what we’re going to be like in fifty years?”
“Probably.” Mary giggled. “But I will not be wearing such colorful eyewear—”
Glass exploded into the café from the left picture window.
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