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5 favorite things for Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
1) husbands (mine)
3) diamonds (and other things that sparkle)
In Salem for business, werewolf Kade Willis's new hostess is an intriguing woman whose species begins with the same letter of the alphabet. She's a WITCH. The way Loren Beck Broom gets his fur twitchy might be due to the laws of animal attraction. It might be the way she handles her magic when dark forces come calling. Or . . . she might just truly know the ins and outs of a decent lust spell that will require him to be "de-witched."
Loren Beck Broom felt a disturbance in the air and exhaled a long, slow breath. It was no meteorological ripple that she noted. Something more out of the ordinary than the usual out-of-the-ordinary stuff was causing a flux in the atmosphere. The back of her neck had chilled up.
She tossed a look to the front door of her establishment, then glanced to the roll-top desk where the few guests that came her way registered. Taking her time, she walked to the door, flipped the switch beside it that turned on a small vacancy sign, and stepped out on the porch.
Eyes closed, she sent her feelers out.
The newcomer was male, she sensed, and around thirty-years old. Strong, in the way he pushed through the dark. Steel-willed, for taking on Salem at this time of year.
More description filled in as if the guy stood right beside her. Tall. Handsome. With the confidence of a physician or an attorney.
She stopped there. If her new visitor was the latter, she could look forward to complaints. Bed was soft. Breakfast took too long. Coffee wasn’t hot enough. The rooms were too frilly for any self-respecting man to make himself at home in. Could he get meals 24/7? Did she have an aspirin for his after-flight hangover?
But that wasn’t quite all. Something else underscored those easier to read things about this customer. What was it?
Raising her right hand, she drew an invisible symbol in the air and opened her eyes to study it, aware of something else woven in the wind blowing through her thick black curls. There was a trace of sulfur in that wind.
Two steps forward took her to the front steps. The presence of sulfur was never good, which made this a bad wind, with trouble written all over it. She was almost sure her new guest wasn’t the cause of this new ripple in the night, per se, though he was likely part of the disturbance. In any case, the three blocks he was hiking to get to her were about to turn into the longest three blocks of his life if he wasn’t careful.