Something wicked this way comes…You’d think being the descendant of powerful witches would grant me the power to sort out my life, right? But you’d be wrong. I’m stuck in a rut, disdained by my family, and my romantic life is a disaster. Oh, and did I forget to mention that I have no magic?When a cursed heirloom is stolen, I should stay out of it and leave the retrieval to those better equipped but everything seems to lead back to me…
With the help of an enigmatic bounty hunter, I may be able to clear my name and retrieve the artefact before death and chaos are unleashed upon my beloved city but doing so could cost me everything — including my life.
It feels like I have just fallen asleep when I’m awoken by someone obnoxiously ringing my doorbell, over and over and over again.
Blinking sticky eyes open, I roll over and check the time on my phone screen. Seven o clock! Who in their right bloody mind goes knocking on someone’s door at that time on a Saturday? It is cruel! It is unnatural! But whomever it is they are not buggering off like I hoped they would, leaving me no choice but to get out of bed and answer the door.
“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” I yell, stomping down the hall. I flick on a light switch and peek through the peephole. “Bitch!” I shout through the door as I start releasing the locks.
There are quite a few, so it’s a bit of a slow process, but when you live in a basement apartment, I feel you can’t be too careful.
“Stop your whining Lockhart! I’ve got to be at work in an hour and details can’t wait!”
Pulling the door open, I am faced with the happy smiling face of my BFF Sarah. I have a strong dislike for morning people but at least this pre-dawn menace has the decency to come bearing gifts.
“Do I smell bacon?” I ask, as she marches past me with a brown bag of goodness and a cup holder with two coffees.
“Hell yes, it’s bacon. You think I’d be stupid enough to wake the bear without bringing a sacrifice?” She calls as she makes her way to the front room. “Bring plates in won’t you!”
Emery Nicolson is a wife, mother and mad cat-lady living in the South West of England. When she’s not writing, she’s probably reading, baking or out walking through a forest.Emmy (or Nics, as she’s more often referred to) loves hearing from readers and you can find her online via Twitter (@EmmyNicolson), Facebook (@EmeryNicolsonAuthor) or her website (emerynicolson.co.uk).
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