Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
‘Would you like tea or coffee?’ Paisley asked him. ‘Flirting is thirsty work.’
‘I’ll take a coffee. You know how I like it.’ He gestured at the glass case built into the desk. ‘I’ll also take one of those potions that help with joint pain. These bones of mine ache something fierce at times.’
Werewolves generally suffered from pain in their joints as they aged, which wasn’t surprising given the amount of shapeshifting they did. All the snapping and popping had to put a real strain on their bones over time.
Emberlyn swiped a tag and pen from beside the telephone. ‘So, how’s Mrs Weaver?’
As Mr Weaver talked about his mate, Emberlyn neatly wrote down the relevant details on the tag for his shirt – his name, the locations of stains, and that two buttons were missing and would need replacing.
She generally worked at the counter, tagging and inspecting clothes. Paisley would then sort the items according to the fabric and necessary treatment. Clem had a keen eye, so she’d apply magick-spiced solvents or other treatments to stains before passing them to Chrissie, who placed the items in the necessary machines. Once Emberlyn had sprinkled in a little magick, those machines would be switched on.
After the cycle, Clem would check the clothes for any stains or residue – something that very rarely happened. Paisley and/or Chrissie would then either steam, press or iron the clothes. Following that, Emberlyn would fold and bag them. It was a system that worked well.
Emberlyn kept the prices reasonable and provided discounts for customers who brought in more than a certain amount of clothes at a time, as well as special deals for their most frequent customers.
It wasn’t a glamourous job. They were on their feet virtually all day. There was a whole lot of lifting, carrying, moving, organizing, cleaning, etc. A whole lot of talking, too, since customers liked to chat. But as a team they made it work, and there were aspects of it that they enjoyed. Also, a simple spell kept the place from being too hot and humid.
After Mr Weaver had left, Paisley sidled up to Emberlyn and said, ‘I took it as a very good sign when you cut his nephew loose.’
Emberlyn felt her brow pinch. ‘Uh, why?’
‘It shows that you’re really moving forward. I can see why you allowed said nephew into your bed six months ago. He’s fun and hot and he doesn’t do serious. You needed that then, because you weren’t ready for more.’
‘I’m still not.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. You’re gun-shy when it comes to werewolves. I get it. But what happened to Michael isn’t exceedingly common. The likelihood of you taking another mate who did the same thing is hyper-small. I’ve never heard of anyone who lost two mates to Bloodhill.’
Neither had Emberlyn, but stranger things had happened.
‘I think you’d more easily date a witch. Maybe you should. It’s easy to think of the coven as one entity, but there are plenty of people within it who don’t agree with how you’ve been treated by the rest. Some guys in the coven are pretty decent; I’ve often heard them call you hot as hell.’
It was true that the coven as a whole weren’t assholes to Emberlyn, but . . . ‘Witch or werewolf, I’m not looking for anything serious. Especially not now. My life has become super complicated overnight.’
‘You got that right,’ Paisley muttered.
‘I’m going to head up and start packing in a few hours, when we have our usual lull. Don’t forget we’re closing early today.’ They always did on full moons so as to ensure that they didn’t miss the curfew.
‘I won’t.’
As Emberlyn had predicted, it didn’t take her long to pack everything. Once done, she descended the stairs that led to the rear of the hub.
Ironing a tee, Chrissie looked from Emberlyn to the box she carried. ‘Want me to help you haul down the rest?’
‘No need; this is it,’ Emberlyn told her.
Chrissie frowned. ‘Everything you own is in here?’
‘Well . . . some of it is already at the manor. I moved it there yesterday.’
‘Uh, okay. Want help unpacking or anything?’
‘Thanks, but I’d rather do it myself. It’s a witch thing. We nest.’ Glancing at the wall clock, Emberlyn added, ‘Okay, time for lunch.’
Overlooking the repositioned Poison Patch later on, Emberlyn had to concede that it looked good. She hadn’t expected anything different, considering that Ripper’s clan ran a very successful and highly regarded landscaping business.
Doing a U-turn, she swept her gaze over the yard, humming her approval. She hadn’t unpacked everything yet. It had seemed best to start with her outdoor bits and bobs, since she would have to secure herself inside the house soon.
The little herb garden was cute and well tended. She’d added her magick into the earth to put her own ‘touch’ on it. Witch bells now hung from the doorknob. She’d hooked lanterns onto tree branches and hung fairy lights along the picket fence. Wind chimes dangled from the rear porch, and her favorite blanket was draped over the rocking chair there.