A Wicked Good Witches Paranormal Romance Books 1-7 (Wicked Good Witches Seasons) Read Online Free Page A

have been meaning to congratulate her on taking over the place,” he admitted, apologetically. “Once Renee retired a few months ago, Emily was the perfect replacement.”
    “Yes. She is,” was all Michael acknowledged to Charlie’s attempt to engage him in conversation.
    “And how did she like your new haircut?” Melinda inquired.
    “What’s not to like?”
    “Oh get over yourself!” She shot back in amusement.
    Although brothers, Charlie and Michael didn’t share many common traits.
    Michael was wiry, yet athletic, with smooth, slightly flushed skin. He rarely had to shave. He was also slower than Melinda when it came to getting ready in the morning, even though his outfits consisted mostly of jeans, sandals, and some kind of pullover shirt. However, the hours spent getting every strand of hair on his head into its perfect place, were too many to count.
    Charlie, on the other hand, had enough hair for two men. His dusty brown locks were thick and disheveled, falling just above his shoulders, and his facial hair grew fast enough that he could shave twice in one day. More often than not, he had a couple days growth on his face. He found most shirts constricting being that he had the shoulders of a football player, and preferred on nice days to wear tank tops and khaki shorts. When the weather cooled, he simply added a flannel shirt, always with the sleeves rolled up carelessly. 
    The only similar traits they did share: dazzling midnight blue eyes and a killer smile that knocked any girl’s socks off. Both things inherited from their father, Jack Howard.
    The kitchen phone rang loudly.
    “That would be the Mack line,” Charlie stated, grabbing the phone, grateful for the distraction. “Have I even been home a full hour yet?” he asked no one in particular.
    “Oh, I need to talk to Mack before you hang up, okay?” Melinda blurted out.
    Charlie nodded that he’d heard her while speaking into the phone, “Hello, Mack! How can we help the sheriff of The Demon Isle this morning?”
    “Oh good, you’re home, Charlie. Hope the fishin’ trip went well.” She gave him no chance to reply. “I’m actually calling for your brother. Afraid I need a death readin’.”
    “Just say where and I’ll send Michael right over.”
    Michael sighed, relieved at the sound of his name.  “Any excuse to get out of here,” he grumbled under his breath. “Even if it is work.”
    “The morgue,” Charlie aimed at Michael. He spoke to Mack, “A local or tourist this time?”
    “That’s what I’m hoping Michael can tell me, actually. You see, all I got is drybones …” Her tone turned ominous.
    “A skeleton. I see.”
    “Yeah, a first. Not a stitch of meat on’em.”
    “Michael will be right over to help.” Charlie was about to hang up when he remembered his sister needed to speak with the sheriff. He tossed Melinda the phone.
    “Hiya, Mack,” she greeted. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate, but I’m afraid I have another job for you.”
    “Anything you need, Sweety. You just tell me what it is.”
    “There’s a back door at the Fishhook Seafood Company that’s broken. A lock keeps jamming and if they don’t fix it, in three days someone who works there dies because it won’t open. They are working after the place closes and there’s a fire in the kitchen. Don’t know what starts it, but you might want to check that out to.”
    “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’m on it! Just consider me your own personal dream killer,” the sheriff added with a haughty laugh.
    Melinda let out a dark chuckle.
    Mack disconnected.
    Charlie and Michael stared at Melinda, awaiting explanation. 
    “Yeah yeah. Another dream. I took care of it didn’t I?”
    “You’re supposed to tell us when you have a dream, so we can help,” Charlie reminded gently. Instant guilt consumed him. He’d been gone. Out of reach part of the time. She couldn’t have told him even if she’d needed