Read Online A Witch's Handbook of Kisses and Curses by Molly Harper - Free Book Online

Wainwright’s house, but this was his home.
    Stepping closer to one of the shelves, I noticed a title. Miss Manners’ Guide to Undead Etiquette ? Chuckling, I continued down the shelf.
    From Fangs to Fairy Folk: Unusual Creatures of Midwestern North America .
    Have You Ever Seen a Dream Walking: A Beginner’s Guide to Otherworldly Travel .
    When, What, Witch, Were, and Why? The Five W’s of Safe Interactions with the Paranormal .
    I picked up a trade paperback, arching an eyebrow. “ Tuesdays with Morrie ?”
    From the back of the store, I could feel a little mental tickle, a nudge at the back of my brain. Holy shit! A mind-reader? I wasn’t prepared to deal with a mind-reader now! I stopped in my tracks, closing my eyes and sliding down what Nana would have called my “mental shield,” picturing a rather large Jell-O mold forming around my head, protecting my brain from intruders.
    Yes, it sounded silly. It’s my brain, and I’ll protect it however I want.
    The tickle turned into an all-out poke. The slim brunette from the photos stepped out of some nook in the back, followed by an irritated-looking redhead. The brunette gave me a warm, if perplexed, smile. She was wearing jeans and a beautiful red silk blouse. The redhead, cool and elegant and far more wrinkle-free than anyone had a right to be at this time of night, was also featured heavily in the photo display. She was more subtly attired in a candy-floss-pink blouse and gray silk slacks.
    “Can I help you find anything?” the brunette asked, her eyes narrowing at me slightly. She blinked a few times and shook her head, as if she had water in her ear.
    “Just looking around,” I said, holding up the paperback.
    “This one again?” The brunette groaned, taking Tuesdays with Morrie back to the section marked “Fiction” and reshelving it. “I swear to you, Andrea, this book is possessed. It’s like the stories about those porcelain dolls that move around while you sleep.”
    Andrea, the gorgeous redhead, rolled her eyes. “I’m ninety percent sure Dick moves that book every time he comes into the store, just to mess with you.” She turned to me. “Jane has issues with dolls . . . and puppets . . . and clowns. We keep a list in the back, if you’re interested.”
    Despite myself, I found myself snickering. I cleared my throat. “You have an interesting selection here. You stock ritual items?” I nodded toward the display cupboard.
    The redhead frowned a bit. “Some. We’re primarily a bookshop, but the previous owner had quite a collection, and we keep the athames and candles around as sort of a tip of the hat.”
    Jane stared at me, blinking as if she was having trouble concentrating.
    “That’s very sweet,” I said, ignoring her blatant perusal and pointing to the little ownership plaque by the register. “So I take it you’re Jane Jameson, proprietor?”
    Andrea sighed. In a lifeless, resigned tone, she said, “I will never be as smart as Jane Jameson-Nightengale.”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “She lost a bet,” Jane said, grinning evilly at her companion. “Every time she hears my full name, she has to say that. Do not try to out-trivia me, Andrea. You have no one to blame but yourself. Which reminds me, I need to have that plaque updated.”
    “I could have sworn Nicholas Nickleby’s sister was named Sarah,” Andrea muttered.
    “Her name was Kate,” I said, just as Jane did.
    “Oh, hell, there’s two of you,” Andrea groaned, marching behind the counter. “I’m making myself a bloodychino.”
    “Bloodychino?” I asked, turning toward Jane, who was giving me a speculative look.
    “Hmm? Oh, yes, Andrea has figured out how to make coffee drinks more palatable for vampires.”
    I lifted my brows. Andrea was fair-skinned, but she didn’t strike me as the vampire type. She was so put-together and polished. It was as if someone had vampirizeda Kennedy, which was a terrifying thought. Was everyone who worked in this shop a