Any Witch Way You Can Read Free

streets of Hemlock Cove are littered with specialty stores. Mrs. Gunderson – one of the few women in town that embraces my family and doesn’t shun it – runs a small bakery. Mrs. Little, the town’s self-appointed moral compass, runs a small pewter store that has a scary amount of unicorns in it. Mr. Wharton, a kind old man that has a crush on my Aunt Marnie, owns a small hardware store that boasts old-fashioned reeves and scythes in the front window – even though he sells the normal nails and hammers you would expect inside.
    The town is really an entity of its own – and I love it.
    I made my way to the corner of Cauldron Court (yes, all the streets have ridiculously cheesy names) and found myself outside Hypnotic. Hypnotic is brightly painted – purple with yellow trim – and has a low-hanging eave that is decorated with a variety of different hanging vines (which were now starting to wither in the autumn weather). The hand-painted window promised Tarot readings, the biggest selection of herbs in town and a variety of power crystals for the practicing Wicca. There was also a handmade wooden sign that boasted, “If you want to curse someone, we can help.” I smiled to myself. That was new.
    When I entered Hypnotic, I heard the familiar clang of the wind chimes hanging by the front door and felt a sense of calm settle over me. I was comfortable in this environment. It was as much home as my actual home was.
    “Welcome to Hypnotic, how may we assist you?”
    I looked up and smiled as I saw my cousin, Clove, enter the main part of the store from the back room – which was set apart by some colorful green curtains.
    “Oh, it’s just you,” Clove sighed.
    “Good to see you, too.”
    “Sorry, I’m just cutting herbs in the back. If I knew it was you I wouldn’t have stopped what I was doing. I don’t want to forget what I’m doing. It would be a disaster if I mixed up the Agaric and Ague Root.”
    Since Agaric was for fertility and Ague Root was for protection, she definitely had a point.
    Clove and I look nothing alike. While I’m fair and blonde, Clove has olive skin and dark black hair. She’s also a whole half a foot shorter than me. While I’m not tall at 5’6”, Clove is downright tiny at 4’11”. She was dressed in an ankle length skirt – which had sparkly flowers all over it – and a simple black tank top. She looked the part of a witch effortlessly. Since she was really a witch, though, I wasn’t that impressed with her clothing choices.
    “Cool skirt.”
    “Mom made it,” she said simply. Clove’s mother was my Aunt Marnie. She ran a bed and breakfast with my own mother, Winnie, and their other sister, Twila. They were all a lot more adept than we were when it came to sewing – and cooking – and meddling in everyone’s lives.
    I threw myself on the comfortable couch in the center of the store. “How’s business?”
    Despite the herbs in the backroom, Clove joined me on the couch. She could be easily distracted. I had a feeling she was looking for any excuse to get out of work – like always.
    “Pretty good,” Clove answered. “This time of year is our bread and butter.”
    “People like to be scared,” I said.
    “We aim to please,” Clove said brightly.
    “Speaking of, I like the new sign.”
    Clove smiled mischievously.  When she smiled, she had a dimple in her left cheek that came out to play. Her brown eyes sparkled as they turned to the window sign briefly. “That was my idea.”
    “I figured.”
    “Not everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”
    I pondered it for a second and then shrugged. “As long as you’re not really cursing people, I don’t see what the problem is. I think it’s a good idea. It will bring people in – even if it’s just out of curiosity.”
    “That’s what I said but . . . “
    “Don’t encourage her!”
    I shifted my gaze up to the curtains that covered the backroom again and smiled when I saw my other cousin, Thistle, step from