For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Sgt. Nick Gibson and his pretty witch, Annaliese Cross, here’s a taste of Pretty Witches All in a Row. I’ll post an excerpt from the new book later. “Detective,” she said with a pleasant smile, setting down the tray. “It’s Sergeant, actually,” Nick corrected her, leaning casually against the counter. Her brows rose a fraction. “Does that matter?” “Yeah, it does actually,” he grinned. A careless shrug was given. “I don’t like labels.” “Oh, I do. They make it so simple to classify people with. You however... I’m having trouble with. What do I call you?” He propped his elbows on the counter, resting his face in one hand as he studied her with mock intensity. The pose had its desired effect and she laughed softly. “Is there something wrong with Miss Cross?” Nick made a face. “That sounds so formal, I was hoping we were past that.” “Past that? We just met this morning.” “Yes, but now we’re old friends.” “Are you hitting on me?” Her head canted to one side as she stared back at him, indignance warring with amusement in her tone. Not the reaction he was going for, was he losing his indefinable charm? “I wouldn’t call it hitting, no… more of a light pat.” Amusement won out at his shift in expression. “I would think you’d be a little worried about the consequences of your actions.” She raised a single brow, but there was a teasing lilt to her voice. “Why, are you gonna turn me into a toad?” He relaxed as she teased him back, finding his smile again. She shook her head, brown locks dancing. “Naw. Then I’d have to kiss you to turn you back when your lackeys come to find out what happened to you,” Anna replied matter of factly. “The preferred term is minions.” “Again with the labels… Two visits in one day Sergeant. Have I graduated to suspect or is this a social call?” Her tone was light as she started to move the clean cups off of the tray onto the counter. “Hmmm, that’s a tough decision…” He pretended to consider. “If you’re a suspect, then I have an excuse to spend lots of time shadowing you, but if it’s a social call you’ll probably be a lot happier to see me.” “What makes you think I’m happy to see you?” “You’re smiling, I’d call that a good start.” “That’s just because you keep saying boneheaded things,” she laughed before trying to appear serious. “I’m amused… not happy.” “Boneheaded. Ouch,” he said with a wince. “Alright, I’ll have to work on it,” Nick promised, drawing out the envelope of pictures. “Actually, I was hoping you might take a look at some pictures for me, from Skye’s place.” Annaliese hesitated, her eyes going to the envelope. “Of the body?” she breathed, clearly disturbed by the idea. “No, no nothing like that,” he assured her quickly. “It’s pictures from her house, some things we’re having trouble identifying. You know, witchy stuff.” “Oh. Of course, if I can,” she agreed, easing as she understood what it was he wanted of her. Tucking the hair behind her ears as he withdrew the sheaf of pictures, she came around to the same side of the counter to study them. As she leaned close, Nick got a whiff of lilacs and something he couldn’t identify, almost kind of spicy. Not perfume exactly, maybe it was her shampoo, but it was nice, and he didn’t move away as she leaned close. “What can you tell me about this star thing on the floor?” “The five pointed star is called a pentagram, pentacle when it’s in the circle. They’re typically used for protection, though it’s unusual to see one drawn out like this unless they’re undertaking some major spellwork. Normally you see them in jewelry, like these.” She pointed to the glass counter top to his right which held a wide array of pentacles worked in silver. “Major spellwork? Like what?” Nick asked, his imagination kicking into overdrive. “I don’t know… I don’t go through this much trouble unless I need to work some serious mojo. It’s kind of hard to tell from the picture, but it looks like it might be drawn with black salt. That would be used for protection or to keep away negative influences.” “Black salt? Where do you even get black salt?” “It’s not really black salt, it’s regular white salt mixed with ash or charcoal,” she explained. “For her to have drawn this out, she must have been afraid of something fairly serious,” Anna frowned, instantly sobering. “Or someone.” Nick’s frown matched hers. amazon/Pretty-Witches-All-Row-Gibson-ebook/dp/B005R8XQII
Posted on: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 19:22:34 +0000
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