Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)

“But then doesn’t that mean this loon Eddie can’t use magic either?” Clive asked, his wrinkled brow furrowed.

Glenda-Jo shook her silver-white head, tucking her customary shawl around her shoulders and swatting the back of his head. “He has the book, Clive! The. Book! Weren’t you listening, old man? That daggone book trumps everything! And you don’t need magic to cut someone’s heart out!” she yelped, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh hell’s bells. I’m sorry, Ridge.”

Ridge lifted his hat and ran his hand through his hair. After hearing all about this Marie Haversham from the seniors, and her spell book and how it tied into Bernie, he’d almost lost his morning coffee.

Winnie and the seniors’ faces fell. “Shit! I forgot about that damn spell.” She turned to look at the group, her voice hinting at her desperation. “Does anyone have any clue what kind of spell prevents us from using our magic? We have to get in there!”

Gus was the first to speak up, his weathered face wrought with concern. “Then we’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way. No way am I lettin’ my girl get whacked today!”

Ridge was desperate. He knew Bernie was in the cellar. His stomach revolted at the idea that he’d done his morning chores while she was likely locked up in there. And now, he was just twenty damn feet from getting his hands on her.

“What’s the old-fashioned way, Gus? I’m all out of ideas, my friend. If we can’t use magic to get in there—then what?”

Flora pushed her way through the group, a devilish smile on her face. “I think Gussie’s on to something. Calla’s not magical, is she? Isn’t that cellar floor made of dirt?”

Ridge nodded, Flora’s train of thought giving him hope. “It is. Damn, Flora, you’re a genius!” He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her hard.

Calla immediately rolled up her sleeves with a wicked grin. “I like the way you think, Miss Flora! Okay, so cough up all the extra clothes you bunch of troublemakers have on your persons. As much as I love you guys, the hell I’m gonna let you see me naked after a shift.”



Okay, spells. Think spells, Bernie. Picture that book in your head, the one Ridge had you read twice, and remember. Remember the words. There’s a way to get out of this. You can find it.

But all she could picture was Ridge in her head. Laughing when she recited a word in Latin incorrectly. Running his finger down the tip of her nose when she got something right.

And the seniors and Calla, and Winnie, Daphne, BIC, little Lola, Benny Junior, Fee and Orchid. Their faces flashed behind her closed eyes as Eddie, clearly done stringing her along, had gone silent and was busy preparing whatever spell he needed to complete his wish to become a blood witch.

Don’t hide, Bernie. You’re giving up. Don’t give up. No more hiding—you’re a witch, loud and proud. Sing it, sister!

Like a clap of thunder, she remembered most of the words to a discharge spell.

If she could just somehow make the chains set her free, she could definitely take Eddie.

But if you use the wrong words, that guillotine’s headed right for the top of your head. And don’t forget the bomb…

Maybe she should just start spewing the words she knew and the rest would come to her?

No, Bernie! There has to be another way. You have so much to look forward to. Don’t give up!

She warred with the voices in her head as Eddie raised the book and lifted a long match.

Her mind raced. Freeze time. Could she freeze time? That would solve everything.

Bernie! Bernie, are you there?

Her eyes flew open as she scanned the now fully lit storm cellar. Fee?

It’s me! Listen to me, Bernie, listen close. Clear your mind, Peaches. Clear it of everything but my voice. Help is on the way—we’re almost there!

No, Fee! Stay out. He has this whole place rigged. Do not open the cellar door! It has a bomb attached. If Eddie hears you guys fiddling with that door, everyone’s doomed. Get as far away as possible, Fee! If anyone else is with you, tell them to get the hell out of here!

The hell! I’ve already lost one witch in my lifetimes; I ain’t losin’ another, Pook. Now stop flapping your gums and listen to me and don’t forget your powers are mostly useless here. Just sit tight and keep Eddie busy. Make some noise. Talk to him. We need a distraction!

Shit! Her powers, aside from simple spells, were useless on the farm. How could she have forgotten?

And then she heard it—scratching. No, digging. Were they digging their way in here from the ground up?

Eddie’s head popped up as if he’d heard it, too, but then he shook it off and went back to his book of everything, busying himself with mixing a potion that smelled like Gus’ feet when he took his sweaty shoes off to wade in the creek.

Wait. If magic didn’t work on the farm, how was Eddie going to make this spell complete?