Note from Shelly:
Below is the second chapter of the novella for Resting Witch Face. I had some good feedback on the first chapter, and I am excited to hear what you think of this one.
Right now I’m gonna keep them free, but I can’t promise it will stay that way through the whole novella. Tank is already 20 pounds and 2.5 feet at six months and keeping him in formula is expensive.
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Chapter 2
I kept my eyes peeled as I walked down the dirt road that led to the marked field on my map. There was a fifty-fifty chance Darla was pulling my leg again. Over the last month, she switched potion ingredients to see if I’d catch it, failed to tell me why lavender was spread on my window sill till after I cleaned it up, told me it would be fine to gather plants from any garden in town, and worst of all she told everyone in town I lived for small talk.
Most people know gargoyles don’t like to be surprised. I mean who in their right mind would sneak up on a thing who lived to kill and maim, much less a whole clan of them? But wearing something bright and making noise seemed extreme. Then again I didn’t want to be on the cover of Whynot’s weekly news sheet as the witch who disappeared in Turnip Field for wearing black and not singing at the top of her lungs while picking flowers.
With the fringe of my bright pink scarf fluttering over my shoulder I decided talking would have to do. There was no reason to torture the wildlife with my singing voice. Very few living things deserved to hear me sing. I pulled my phone from my bag and dialed my sister. She’d get a laugh out of the situation and heaven knows she could use one after the week she’d had.
She picked up on the first ring. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“Wanna hear something funny?”
Shuffling sounds came through from her side. “Lay it on me.”
“Darla has me out picking flowers for a love potion.”
“You’re right that is funny. Does she know what happened the last time you tried to make one of those?”
“No. And she won’t if I have anything to say about it.” I kept putting one foot in front of the other, doing my best to ignore the feeling of anticipation crawling across my scalp the closer I got to the field. “The funny part is I have to get them from a field across the street from a gargoyle nest.”
Silence reigned for a full minute. “How is that funny? Last time I checked there wasn’t much funny about a gargoyle. Unless you watch them drink through a straw.”
I stopped at the edge of the clearing and studied the trees while my little sister described a video she saw where a gargoyle with tusks couldn’t use a straw to save his life. The feeling of anticipation was creeping down my spine to settle in the pit of my stomach. Premonitions were not my thing, but I knew with every fiber of my being if I went into that field my life would change.
“Yeah, that sounds hilarious.” I took another step towards the edge of the field trying to find the building the gargoyle’s lived in. “Darla said I had to wear something bright …”
“Has she seen your wardrobe?”
“Stop interrupting.” I waved my hand like she could see me. “I don’t know if she is pranking me again or being serious. She said to sing at the top of my lungs while I’m here so they don’t think I’m trying to sneak up on them.”
Penny snorted. I’d told her all about Darla’s pranks. She thought they were funny until I got tasered. “You’re not gonna sing are you?”
“No, I’m not gonna sing. I grabbed a stupid pink scarf from the boutique in town, and I’m talking to you on the phone. That is gonna have to do.”
“Do you see their house? Or barn or whatever?”
I shook my head as I picked my way across a small ditch to stand at the edge of a field. It was full of bright orange pumpkins, not turnips.
“Well?” Penny’s curiosity carried over the line.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? You called me all in a tizzy not wanting to go to the weird field by yourself in case the boogey man got you and now you’re holding out on me? Facetime me.”
“I’m not putting you on FaceTime. I’m hanging up.” I pulled my gardening gloves out of my bag. “I’m gonna find this stupid flower then get back to Pink House.”
“Wait. You can’t just hang up. What if something happens? I’d feel terrible if you showed up on a milk carton.” Her giggle let me know that she wasn’t worried in the least.
“I’d hate for my disappearance to weigh on your soul. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.” I made some smooch noises and hung up as Penny kept protesting. When the screen lit up with a FaceTime notification I hit decline and tucked my phone back into my bag.
If I wanted the job in the new Rent-A-Witch House working for Darla the first thing I needed to do was figure out her sense of humor. No way could I work for her long term if she kept getting under my skin.
Five minutes later I located a bunch of violets on the far side of the field growing in the shade of a tree. I pulled my clippers out of my bag ignoring the feeling creeping along the back of my neck.
Remember this is edited by me and Grammarly. The final version printed in the Resting Witch Face Anthology will be done professionally (and will have commas in the appropriate places). I’m sharing to get your opinions as I develop a new series and make sure I’m not going too far off the rails.
Leave me a comment below!
xoxo
Shelly
WHAT?! You can’t stop right there!.. I’m on pins and needles waiting for her to come face to face with some gargoyles!
Liked what I read. Sorry I missed Chapter One.