9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC Read Online Free Page A

in another world where
common household items developed quirky personalities, or she’d have to declare
herself mentally unstable. She made a face. Neither thought was acceptable. Heck,
she might be going off the deep end, but she might as well enjoy the journey.
    Gathering up her hair, she twisted the ends into a loose
knot. Holding a jeweled clip in front of her face, she glared at it. “Please
don’t come alive. Don’t bite me or change into anything really hostile or
ugly,” she begged, then clipped her hair in place.
    She crossed her fingers and waited. When there were no
signs of hostility from the clip, she breathed a sigh of relief. Grabbing a
tube of lipstick, she uncapped it and brought it to her puckered lips. Poised
in front of the mirror, she hesitated, eyeing the glossy pink color.
    Something
was going to happen. It was too darn quiet. Everything in the house seemed to
be holding its breath, just waiting for her to make the ultimate mistake of
applying it to her lips.
    “Nuh-uh.
No way.” She shook her head, mulling over the matter as she recapped the tube
and tossed it back on the dresser. The way her day had started, no telling what
would happen if she put on lipstick. “Probably sprout warts on my lips.”
    The unexpected jingle of the phone startled her. She
jumped, clutching her heart. Ah, the sound of something normal. Nothing odd
about a phone ringing…she hoped. Saylym zipped across the room and grabbed it
off the nightstand. “Sanctuary’s House of Insanity.”
    “Hi,
Angelmine, you sound stressed.”
    Her
mum’s voice came through the receiver so clearly, Saylym swore she was right
next door, instead of thousands of miles away in England. Angelmine . She
blinked back tears. Her mum always called her that.
    “Hi,
Mum.”
    “I wanted to check on you, see if you’re ready to give up
this nonsense about independence and return home? I miss you.”
    Saylym ignored the question. No way was she admitting she
was a failure and stuck in Sanctuary. Neither was she getting into another
argument about returning to England. She’d made a decision to leave and she’d
stick with it, even if she felt like Dorothy in the Land of Oz.
    “Mum, by chance, is there a family history of witches?”
    For a moment, utter silence filled the phone line, then
she heard her mum’s sharp gasp.
    “Uh–not that I can say, dear,” she replied. A choked laugh
escaped her. “Of course, your father might have been a waken .”
    Saylym moaned. “Awaken?”
    “Not awaken, but a waken . A male witch.”
    “Mum! I’m serious. Weird things are—”
    “Yes. Yes.” She cut her off. “I only slept with him the
one time,” her mum supplied quickly cutting her off. “We weren’t exactly
discussing our family history. Well–er.” A short breath. “Gotta dash, darling. Chop-chop
and all that. Uh…my date’s here.”
    “Your date? Mum, you don’t date. I need to
explain—”
    “Have
to go, dear. I’ll call you again, soon. Love you. Bye!”
    “Wait,
Mum. I need—” Saylym stared blankly at the receiver in her hand. Talking into a
dead phone was useless. She set it back on the cradle. “Bye, Mum. Thanks for
sharing more information than I wanted.” She rolled her eyes. “Waken? Right.”
    Clearly, her mum was hiding something, but she doubted it
had anything to do with male witches. Shrugging, she glanced at her watch then
gave a heavy sigh. As the new owner of a business, she was going to be late
opening this morning if she didn’t hurry.
    So what if the shop was a gimmicky magic supply store? A
business should be run professionally. That was her personal motto. She still
couldn’t believe her luck at actually acquiring the shop. But the owner, Dottie
Wesman, had been ready to retire. She’d offered the business to Saylym her
second day in Sanctuary at a price too good to refuse.
    Saylym squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. Her
mum would say she had that glint in her eyes again, but no