by Nova Nelson
Tanner brought out the food only a few minutes later, and as Grim shamelessly gorged himself on his plate, Tanner motioned for me to scoot over, which I did without hesitation. He slid in next to me, slinging his arm over the back of the booth, inspecting me closely. “What now, Nora?”
I shrugged. “I’m going to enjoy some steak and eggs.”
“And then what? Try to get back to … sorry, where are you from again?”
“Texas.”
He chuckled. “Weird name, but okay. You gonna try to get back to Texas?”
I studied his face. “Nah. Not right away at least. I kind of like it here.”
“It is a beautiful place.”
“It’s the people that make it for me, honestly,” I said.
He flashed me a sneaky half-grin. “I could really use someone like you.”
Do not faint! Do not faint!
“Oh yeah?” I asked coolly. “How would you use me?”
I mean, if we were crossing this line, why not cross it hard and fast, I say.
But his mind was not in the same place as mine.
“You have any experience waiting tables?”
I didn’t mean to laugh right in his face, but it’d been a long couple days. I regained my composure before replying, “Yeah, I have a little experience waiting tables. Are you offering me a job, Mr. Culpepper?”
“Well,” he said, leaning away from me and attempting a serious expression that looked about as natural on him as a pair of pants would on Grim, “it would be on a trial basis, of course. If you couldn’t handle the pressure of working in Eastwind’s top diner, then I’d have to let you go.”
“I’ll try not to let you down, sir,” I said mockingly.
“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning to start your training.” He slid halfway out of the booth then paused, turning back toward me. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for saving my hide.” He leaned forward and before I realized what was happening, the kiss was already over. I refrained from touching the spot on my cheek where his lips had landed. “I owe you one,” he said quietly, his face only inches from mine. “I mean it.”
He hurried off as another customer waved him down.
“One what? He owes me one what?”
“I think it’s pretty clear what he meant,” Grim said. “And let me say, if he does what you’re thinking about even half as well as he scratches behind my ear, you’re gonna want to call in that IOU immediately.”
“Oh, for fang’s sake, Grim. Ulck. Please don’t ever make that comparison again.”
“Fine.” He jabbed toward my plate with his big, frizzy paw. “You gonna eat that? Because there’s a good boy who would be happy to take it off your hands.”
“Don’t even think about it. And stop drooling.”
“I can’t help that last part. Because if you didn’t notice, I’m a dog.”
“Yeah, yeah. You keep reminding me. Sounds like a cop-out, honestly.”
Closing my eyes, I savored that first simple yet exquisite bite of yoke-covered steak, letting it all set in.
As fate had it, I’d died and found myself in Eastwind.
And when my innumerable acquaintances in Texas would inevitably gossip about my death and recite those empty words of, “She’s in a better place now,” I knew in my heart that those people would actually be correct.
End of Book 1
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DEATH METAL
Eastwind Witches 2
As Nora Ashcroft settles into life in Eastwind and her job at Medium Rare, the spirit witch suspects she might have finally found a happy medium.
But when a wealthy werewolf is found dead and the police rule it a suicide, Nora’s supernatural abilities might be the only thing that can uncover the truth surrounding the suspicious circumstances. Can she prove foul play?
Read Death Metal
About the Author
Nova Nelson grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie novels. She loves the mind candy of cozy mysteries and has been weaving paranormal tales since she first learned handwriting. Those two loves meet in her Witches of Salem series, and it's about time, if she does say so herself.
When she's not busy writing, she enjoys long walks with her strong-willed dogs and eating breakfast for dinner.
Say hello:
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