Soul of the Witch (Witches of Keating Hollow Book 1) Read online

  Soul of the Witch

  Witches of Keating Hollow, Book 1

  Deanna Chase

  Bayou Moon Press, LLC

  Copyright © 2018 by Deanna Chase

  First Edition 2018

  Cover Art by Ravven

  Editing by Angie Ramey

  ISBN Print 978-1-940299-53-2

  ISBN Ebook 978-1-940299-54-9

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Bayou Moon Press, LLC

  Contents

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Deanna’s Book List

  About the Author

  About This Book

  Welcome to Keating Hollow, the village full of love, magic, and cupcakes, and where nothing is more important than family.

  At age eighteen, after a potion tragically backfired, Abby Townsend left Keating Hollow and her magic behind to find redemption. Ten years later, after being summoned by her family, she’s back. As soon as she drives into town, she’s already plotting her inevitable exit, but she can’t quite escape the pull of the tightly knit magical community or the soulful gaze of the one man she’s never forgotten. And when an eight-year old witch not only leads her back to her magic, but also steals her heart, Abby’s about to learn what it means to embrace the soul of a witch.

  To learn about Deanna’s new releases sign up for her newsletter here. Do you prefer text alerts? Text WITCHYBOOKS to 24587 for news and updates.

  Chapter 1

  This Way Lies Hallowed Ground.

  The familiar weathered sign meant Abby was only twenty miles from Keating Hollow, the hidden Northern California town that had been settled by witches almost a century ago. She turned off the highway onto the nondescript two-lane road and sat up, the weariness suddenly vanishing from her travel-worn body. She’d been driving for three days, dreading every moment of crossing into the quaint witch village. But now that she was here, a tingle of magic settled in her bones, and for just a split-second, peace washed over her.

  She was home.

  The peace vanished, replaced by the familiar anxiety that had sent her running across the country ten years ago. She tightened her fingers over the steering wheel as she remembered her one and only short visit at Christmas six years earlier. The trip had only been three days. Two days too long, if you asked Abby. It had just been too hard. Too many painful memories. Too much guilt. Too much everything.

  “Relax,” she said softly as she focused on the giant redwoods, determined to block out the past. She couldn’t change anything that happened back then or anything that had happened since. And she couldn’t keep running forever. Not this time. Her sister had called and told her it was time to come home—Dad was sick. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she blinked them back.

  Crying was not an option. Not now. And especially not in front of her dad. Later in the evening, after she’d sat at the kitchen table with her dad, lingering over a large mug of Grandma Harper’s famous hot cocoa, then she could lock herself in the bathroom and fall apart in the shower.

  The winding road straightened out, and the dense redwoods disappeared from her rearview mirror. She drove into the quaint little downtown area and on impulse, swung into a parking spot right in front of A Spoon Full of Magic. Taking a moment to stretch her aching legs, Abby watched the magical mixing cups weigh out ingredients and transfer them to copper bowls right in the front window. Her lips twitched into a small smile. Nobody made chocolate cheesecake tortes like Miss Maple.

  Abby swept into the shop and breathed in the delicious sweet scents of caramel and chocolate. Her stomach growled as her mouth watered in anticipation.

  “Abigail Townsend?” a high pitched voice called from behind the counter.

  Abby glanced up and spotted a curvy redhead wrapped in a blue and white striped apron. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, and she wore stylish blue cat-eye glasses.

  “Hi, Shannon,” Abby said, biting back a scowl as she gazed at her junior high nemesis. She’d always secretly hoped the girl who’d made her life miserable for six months would wind up with acne and frizzy hair. Unfortunately, the woman in front of her had flawless skin and silky smooth curls that were worthy of a shampoo commercial.

  “Gosh. I haven’t seen you since…” Shannon’s tanned face turned to ash as she swallowed her next words.

  “Not since Charlotte’s memorial,” Abby said, her tone void of any emotion.

  “Right. Of course.” Shannon averted her eyes as she wiped her hands on a towel. When she glanced back up, she had a pasted on smile. “It’s good to see you in town. Did you just get in? Yvette mentioned you were coming for a visit.”

  “Yes, just rolled in this minute and decided I couldn’t go another day without Miss Maple’s chocolate caramel bars.”

  “Excellent.” Shannon whipped out a glitter-covered turquoise wand and pointed it at the display case. A second later, a half-dozen bars floated out and stacked themselves into a small white box.

  “Oh, that’s too many,” Abigail protested. “I was only going to get one.”

  “These are on the house. Welcome home present.” A spool of turquoise ribbon right behind Shannon spun rapidly and then stopped, leaving a hank of about two feet. Shannon turned, snipped the piece off, and quickly wrapped it around the box, tying it off deftly with a perfectly balanced bow. “Here you go,” she said, pushing it toward Abby.

  “You really don’t have to do that,” Abby said, shaking her head.

  Shannon waved an unconcerned hand. “Take them home to Lin. I know they’re his favorite.”

  Abby started to deny the offer but quickly changed course and nodded instead. The bars were Lincoln Townsend’s favorite, and if Shannon wanted to do something nice for her father, Abby certainly wasn’t going to refuse. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Lin does so much for everyone. It’s the least I can do. Now, anything else I can get for you?”

  Abigail ordered a full-size chocolate cheesecake torte and a tin of Miss Maple’s special cocoa mix. After she paid, she grabbed the torte box and reached for the small bag of chocolate treats and cocoa.

  “Wait.” Shannon reached below the counter and produced a couple packages of cinnamon sticks. “Take these, too.” With a small sympathetic smile, she added, “Good for healing.”

  The sob Abby had been holding back the last three days clogged her throat again. “Thank you,” she forced out, her voice raspy and too full o
f emotion.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Shannon said, placing her hand over Abby’s. “I can feel it.”

  Abby stared at the genuine sincerity in the other woman’s eyes and felt some small piece of her heart mend. She’d almost forgotten that in Keating Hollow, kindness bred its own very real magic. “I hope so.” She turned to go, but as she pulled the door open, she glanced back and smiled. “Thanks, Shannon. I needed to hear that.”

  “You’re very welcome. Enjoy your homecoming.”

  Abby nodded and stepped back out onto Main Street, the bell on the door clanging behind her. She paused and sucked in a deep breath, letting the faint redwood-scented air wash over her before climbing back into her car.

  She’d just jammed the key into the ignition when someone blaring “Fireball” by Pitbull pulled into the space beside her, honking incessantly.

  Beep, beep, beeeeep.

  Abby glanced over, ready to tell the motorist to keep their pants on, but then froze in surprise as she took in the six-seater golf cart, its flashing strobe lights, and the crazy woman frantically waving at her.

  Abby pushed her door open and gasped, “Wanda?”

  “Abby!” The curvy woman flipped a switch on the dash, causing the music to vanish. Then she hopped out of her party cart and ran over to Abby, engulfing her in an all-encompassing hug. “Oh my goddess, I can’t believe you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

  Warmth spread through Abby as she hugged her old high school friend tightly. “What were you doing? Staking out the city limits until I rolled into town?”

  “Ha! Don’t flatter yourself.” Wanda pulled back and grinned. “I was tooling down to the liquor store to restock the wine fridge when I saw you sneaking out of Miss Maple’s.” She glanced through the window of Abby’s Mazda CX-3. “Chocolate cheesecake torte. You never could resist that yummy goodness, could you?”

  Abby laughed. “Not when it comes to Miss Maple’s cheesecake.” Peering over Wanda’s shoulder, Abby raised a curious eyebrow. “That’s some ride you’ve got there.”

  “Isn’t it?” Wanda walked back around the cart and slid back into the driver’s seat. “Check this out.” She turned the key then pushed a button on the dash. The lights flashed purple just as Prince blared over the surround sound speakers. Pumping her eyebrows, she added, “Sweet right?”

  “Freakin’ awesome is more like it,” Abby said, half tempted to jump into the cart with her. If she hadn’t needed to get home to see her dad, she would have.

  A wicked gleam lit Wanda’s hazel gaze. “A few of us girls are racing tonight at midnight. Want to join us?”

  “Golf cart races?” Abby laughed.

  “Hell, yes. Add in a little mermaid water and it’s the most fun you can have with your clothes on. Trust me. You’ll love it.”

  Chuckling, Abby shook her head. “I’d love to. But it’s my first night back and…”

  “I understand. Just wanted to extend the invitation. Next time, huh?”

  “You bet,” Abby said. “And I’m holding you to that mermaid water.”

  Wanda winked. “Give me a call after you’re settled in, and we’ll get the girls together for another race. In the meantime, I’m always up for taking this baby out for a spin down by the lake. All right?”

  “Sounds great, Wanda!” Abby called after her as Wanda backed out into the street.

  Wanda bounced up and down in the seat to the music, enjoying life to its fullest as she motored down the road.

  Feeling an odd sense of loss, Abby climbed back into her SUV, buckled in, and carefully pulled back out onto Main Street.

  Abby passed her favorite used bookstore a few shops down on the right, the window displays already decorated with fall gourds and wheat stalks. She smiled when she spotted Woodlines and Cozy Cave, the two rival restaurants in town. They were directly across the street from one another and both had signs that read Voted Best Crab Cakes in Town.

  A tiny thread of peace wound around her heart. It was good to know nothing ever changed in Keating Hollow.

  Well, almost nothing.

  The familiar yellow and green sign of her father’s brewery came into view: Townsend’s Keating Hollow Brewery. But instead of her father’s vintage, nineteen fifty-eight red GMC truck sitting out front, there was a midnight blue Jeep Wrangler parked in its spot.

  “Who does that belong to?” she muttered. Then her eyes widened as a tall, dark-haired man with a lopsided smile she’d know anywhere walked out of the store and over to an idling delivery truck. He was carrying a clipboard and wearing a black polo shirt, the same one she’d seen her father wear thousands of times before.

  Her heart fluttered and butterflies took over her stomach.

  Clay Garrison, her first kiss, first love, first everything, was back here in Keating Hollow, working at her father’s brewery.

  Holy cow bells. She glanced in her rearview mirror, checking out her mussed blond hair, haphazardly tied into a bun, and her fatigued, road-weary face. The light trace of makeup she’d slapped on over twelve hours ago was long gone. She had to get out of there before Clay spotted her looking like she’d spent the night sleeping under a bridge.

  She stepped on the gas and promptly came to a screeching, abrupt halt, the seatbelt the only thing keeping her from flying into the windshield, as the sound of metal on metal rang in her ears.

  Chapter 2

  “Ouch!” she cried, pressing her hand to her chest where the seatbelt dug into her flesh. “Son of a… Oh no!” She stared at the crumpled white Mini Cooper in front of her. With her blood racing and her pulse pounding in her ears, she hastily undid the seatbelt and flew out of the car, just as a shaken teenager stumbled from the Mini Cooper.

  “Oh my goddess,” Abby said, her hands trembling with shock from the accident. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

  The tiny brunette nodded, her dark curls blowing in the early evening breeze. “I think so.” The teenager turned and looked at the back end of her car. Her dazed expression turned to shocked horror as she slapped her hand over her open mouth. In a muffled whisper she said, “My aunt is going to kill me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Abby said quickly, trying to reassure the girl. “This was all my fault, and I have insurance. A little time in the body shop and everything will be as good as new.”

  But the teenager shook her head. “No. You don’t understand.” Tears formed in her Kewpie doll eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to be driving her car.”

  “Oh, hell,” Abigail said with a sigh.

  “Is everyone all right? I’ve already called the sheriff’s office,” a deep voice that made Abby’s skin tingle asked from behind her. She glanced over at him, praying the asphalt would open up and let the earth swallow her whole. Good gracious he was gorgeous. Gone was the tall, lanky teenager she’d loved so fiercely, replaced by a man who’d grown into his frame with a broad chest and well-defined shoulders.

  The teenager shook her head again and Clay strode over, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Where are you hurt?”

  The teenager pointed toward me. “She killed the Mini.”

  “What?” He glanced back at me briefly then turned to her again. “But you’re not hurt?”

  “Not physically. But—”

  Clay cut the teen off as he turned back to Abby, concern shining in his beautiful brown eyes. “Abigail. Hello.”

  Abby almost sighed like the lovesick teenager she used to be. Instead, she waved her fingers at him. “Hi, Clay. It’s been a while, huh?”

  His expression instantly went blank. “Yeah. A while.” He lowered his gaze and slowly scanned her body.

  She glanced down at her frayed yoga pants and white T-shirt, noting the mustard stain just above her left breast. Perfect, she thought. Just the way every girl imagines being reunited with the one who got away. Talk about a cruel joke. Someone could make a movie about them and title it Slobby and the Beautiful Beast.

  “How about you? Any broke
n bones, bumps, or bruises?” he asked.

  “No, just my car.” Abby grimaced as she turned back to the teenager, who was frantically texting away on her phone. “We should move these to the side of the road while we wait.”

  The teenager’s head snapped up. She glanced first at Abby, then at Clay, then at the line of traffic forming behind them. “Right.”

  Abby returned to her car, shoved the key into the ignition, and tried turning the engine over.

  Click, click, click, click, click.

  “Oh, come on,” Abby said and tried again. Nothing.

  Clay walked over to her door and leaned in through the open window. “Problem?”

  “Sounds like I killed the battery. You don’t suppose Miss Mini Cooper would help me jump it do you?”

  They both glanced toward the other car just in time to see the Mini Cooper dart off down the road and disappear around a corner.

  When Clay turned his attention back to Abby, she stared at him in disbelief and asked, “Did that just really happen? Did she just take off? I haven’t even given her my insurance information yet.”

  “Maybe she circling and coming right back,” he said with a shrug.

  Abby glanced over her shoulder, looking for the little car, but all she saw was a traffic jam of frustrated drivers as they cautiously used the oncoming lane to ease around her. “Crap.”

  “Put the car in neutral,” Clay said. “We need to push you out of the way.”

  She did as he requested then opened the door and got out. While Clay pushed from behind, she pushed from the driver’s side, steering the small SUV into an empty parking spot. The cars behind her honked their appreciation as they sped by.