By Madelyn Alt
Whereas her boss turns into entranced with a stunning armoire on the countywide craft bazaar, Maggie can not help noticing the Amish craftsman who made it. notwithstanding his outfits could be simple, he himself is extra good-looking than a guy carrying a jawline-only beard has any correct to be. And he turns out lovely acutely aware that the women love his...furniture. but if the hunky craftsman turns up lifeless with a wierd hex image close to his corpse, Maggie wonders if the craft concerned is the witchy style.
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Additional info for Hex Marks the Spot (Bewitching Mysteries, No. 3)
Sample text
Tom waited until they had made motions to leave before turning his attention to me. ” Suddenly nervous beneath the weight of his measuring stare, I lifted my chin, determined to hold my own. False bravado, sure, but it works if you work it. html I opened my mouth to deny it, but with three unexpected deaths in my wholly innocent wake, it hardly seemed a debate that was triumph bound. ” I cast around for reinforcements, but Marcus provided no assistance to that end. He’d melted away as soon as the other men had rounded up their buggies, muttering something unhelpful about leaving the two of us alone.
Louisa Murray won the armoire, I hear—I just ran into her down the way. She’s one of my library regulars, and of course your mother and I know her from church. She’s over the moon about it! ” She paused for a moment. “You know, Marcus, I’m glad I ran into you today. ” “Oh? ” Marcus asked. html “Well…I don’t want to go into it here. Little pitchers, and all that. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. You know how people can be…” “You mean like those little pitchers with the big ears, way over there by the ice cream booth?
I eased off the gas pedal. What was it? Animal eyes reflecting in my headlights? Oh, but they reflected green, didn’t they? Not red. And the flashes seemed kind of big for eyes… Slowly the scene ahead came into view. The red flashes weren’t eyes. They were the rear reflectors on a congregation of buggies blocking the road in front of me. I slowed down to a crawl, barely creeping forward by inches as I tried to decide what was going on. Marcus pulled his motorcycle up beside me on my left and motioned for me to roll down my window.
