Hallows End (The Curse of the Blood Moon #1) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Suspense, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Curse of the Blood Moon Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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The shop is running low on lavender and rosemary, which isn’t surprising. Those sell the quickest because whether a person is a newbie witch just feeling out their power or rooted in the Craft for their entire lives, those two herbs are essential to any witch’s cabinet. So, I kneel in the dirt and get to work on the lavender. Thanks to the greenhouse I built two years ago, I can keep the herbs growing at different stages and never run out.

The air this morning has a chill indicative of October, and I know that it won’t be too long before I’m working exclusively in the greenhouse.

I glance at the smaller plants that I put in the ground just last week and eye them speculatively.

They could use an extra inch or two. At this rate, I’ll be harvesting them next week, and the frost could come at any time.

So, with a wave of my fingers, the plants lighten in color and grow to a height that pleases me.

“That’ll work,” I murmur in satisfaction.

The sound of Nera growling has me frowning and looking over my shoulder. He’s standing at full attention near the picket fence in need of new white paint, the hair on his back standing up.

What is it, boy?

He looks at me and then back out into the woods once more.

The wind moves as I stand and reach out with my mind, searching for what Nera senses, but all I see is a small family of deer.

Just some deer.

He looks at me once more and whimpers, so I set my basket down and walk his way. When my hand settles on his back, I can feel the hum of energy vibrating through him.

Something spooked him.

I search with my mind once more. It’s only just daylight, the sun still waking up over the ocean and casting everything in golden light. The trees sway in the breeze, their leaves just beginning to turn yellow. I take a deep breath and send my mind’s eye high above those trees to peer down below.

“Nothing,” I murmur aloud. “I only see the deer, Nera.”

But I pick some dill, oregano, and parsley to add to the rosemary and sprinkle it along the fence line to reinforce the protection spell I work each Saturday to keep my property safe from anything negative.

“We have to pick some chamomile for Breena.”

Nera’s head whirls around at the mention of my cousin’s name, whatever he thought he heard or saw before forgotten. I’m convinced my familiar has a bit of a crush on Breena.

“She’ll be here in a little while,” I continue as I add the yellow flowers to my basket. “We’ll have a nice visit with her before we open the shop for the day.”

Nera shuffles his big feet in excitement, and I lean over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“I know, Breena’s your favorite—besides me, of course.” I kiss him again. “Right?”

Nera nuzzles my shoulder.

“I thought so. Come on. We have to get these into the oven to dry.”

I already preheated the oven, so I gently lay the blooms on their trays and slide them onto the racks, then pour myself another mug of coffee, stir in the creamer, and head for the bedroom to dress for the day.

I’m partial to greens and orange and pull a flowy orange dress from the closet. Customers expect to see the witch of the house dressing the part, and it’s lucky for them that I enjoy feminine clothes with an edgy, mystical look to them.

I tease my long, red hair into a braid, weave twine with bells into it for fun and cleansing, and then slide my feet into my shoes, just as I hear Breena’s voice call out for me.

Nera immediately abandons me for her, and I smile as I follow him out to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” I say with a laugh as Nera rubs himself against Breena, almost knocking her over.

“Hi,” she says and scratches Nera’s side until I think he might lie down in sheer happiness. “And good morning to you, sweet boy. I brought you a goody. Yes, I did.”

Breena comes over at least twice a week to stock up on things for her practice and leaves behind gifts in exchange. We worked out this barter system years ago.

There are three of us first cousins, all girls, and of the three of us, Breena is the brightest. The innocent one. She is the epitome of a hearth witch, always at the ready to take care of us all. She makes her wares out of love as well as plants, fibers, and elbow grease.

“I’m trying out a new syrup,” Breena informs me and pulls a tall bottle from her bag, setting it on the counter. “It has honeysuckle. I think you’ll like it. And for my favorite boy, I made peanut butter treats.”


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