Witch Way After Forty is Free!

Just in time for Summer Reading!

Are you a fan of Charmed? Then you’re going to love the Silver Sisters series! Magic, adventure, romance, and sisterly squabbles, the gang’s all here.

But don’t take my word for it. After all, I lie for a living. Check out a sample from the book!

Headlights bounced along the rutted road, blinding me from the book I had been trying to decipher. After shielding my eyes, I made out the distinct shape of a minivan. Maeve, of course.

Setting the book aside, I moved to the front door and opened it to spy both of my sisters, who each hauled a humongous Rubbermaid bin toward the porch.

“What’s this?” I set the hurricane lamp aside and reached out to take the bin from Maeve.

“Stuff for your stubborn carcass,” my sister grumped. “Sleeping bags, cleaning supplies, and some food so you don’t starve to death.”

I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

“Have you met her?” Sibby huffed as she set down her own bin with a thud. “Wow, I can’t believe this place is still standing.”

“It’s got good bones.”

“And crap finishes.” Maeve huffed. “Is that old fridge still here? And the stove from hell?”

“Did you think it would walk off on its own?”
She shrugged. “A girl can hope.”

Sibby turned to me with sudden excitement. “Have you been in the greenhouse yet?”
“I was just in there.”

She made a quick circular motion with her hands as though prompting me to get to the good stuff. “And?”

“And nothing.” I shrugged. “I found a few books but the light is hell and I barely got through a page.”

“But what was on the page?” Sibby bounced on her toes. “Was it a spell book?”

I shook my head. “Nothing that interesting. More like some musty geology project.”

“That doesn’t sound like Aunt Jess. Or Mom.” Maeve shook her head. “Okay, so let’s get to cleaning the kitchen, and then we can eat.”

“Why do you always make us work first?” Sibby grumbled as she took the rag Maeve thrust at her. “I’m hungry now.”

“You’re worse than my kids.” Maeve handed me a broom and then snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“Kinky,” Sibby muttered, earning a sharp look from Maeve. “I didn’t know you and Kal were into all that dominance stuff. Do I want to know what the gloves are for?”

I choked back a laugh. I’d forgotten what a genuine smartass my youngest sister could be. And how much I enjoyed her sass.

Maeve bristled. “Shut up, both of you, or I won’t share Kal’s double dark chocolate torte.”

Maeve’s husband was a pastry chef for one of the local resorts and his double dark chocolate torte was the stuff of legends.

“Yes, Mistress Maeve,” Sibby muttered but then set to wiping down the dining room table.

“Are you really okay?” Maeve asked me, too low for Sibby to hear when I swept close to where she was scrubbing.

“Yes and no.” I paused, glancing over my shoulder. “I knew something was going on with Kyle. And I ignored it because I didn’t want to deal with it, you know?”

“I do.” Maeve’s eyes glittered in the low light from the hurricane lamp.

She must have been talking about the twins. Maeve and Kal had tried for years to have children. Rounds of expensive in-vitro chased by constant disappointment. It had been a horrible stumbling block in their marriage. Family was very important to Kal. He had been shunned by his own family and his tribe for marrying a woman who wasn’t Inuit. They only had each other and Maeve had been eaten up with guilt because she couldn’t give him a family. Having never wanted children myself, I didn’t know what to say to her, how to comfort her when each attempt failed and seemed to carve another chunk out of her soul.

And then a miracle had happened. Two little miracles. Arabella and Philip. Life between the two of them was better than ever, not the brittle image Kyle and I had projected outward. True joy. It was as elusive to me as the desire to spawn. Though I doted on my niece and nephew, there had never been that pang that other women mentioned, that yearning that must be critical to motherhood.

Some people did get happy endings. And there wasn’t a better recipient than my sister. But I couldn’t help but envy her such absolute contentment. Maeve was a born nurturer, a mother, a wife.

I was a hard worker.

“Hey, you guys, check this out,” Sibby called from…

Maeve gasped. “Did she go in the greenhouse?”
“You know she’s always been too damn curious for our own good. It amazed me Aunt Jess kept her out of there as long as she did. Sibby has never respected boundaries.” I omitted the fact that I’d done the same thing not even an hour earlier.

“I heard that.” Bright blue hair poked around the corner to the door. “You two always treated this place like it was a shrine. But I for one want to know what kind of crazy shit went on in here.”

“What makes you think crazy shit did go on in there?” Maeve moved to the doorway but didn’t cross the threshold.

“Um, you know Aunt Jess was a hippy. Locked greenhouse? Edible plants? Yeah, she was growing some super shrooms or maybe a little strain of pot that doesn’t look or smell like pot but toasts you ever so nicely.”

“You’re nuts,” I muttered. “What are you going to do? Smoke every plant in the place to see if you get a buzz?”

“Maybe?” Sibby’s grin turned wicked. “Want to try it with me, Alys?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Maeve clapped her hands. “There will be no ingesting of plants from this room in any manner. No eating, smoking, huffing, or cooking down to shoot up. Is that clear?”

“Has she always been so bossy?” Sibby whisper-mocked.

“Motherhood made her worse,” I grumbled.

“Now, get cleaned up. I have a lasagna as well as a good stout red and if I am going to spend the rest of the night with you two, I need wine.” With that Maeve spun on her heel and stalked off toward the powder room.

I moved to follow, but Sibby pulled me to a stop. “Look at this a minute.”

Turning, I spotted the yellowed scrap of paper she held out. It was handwritten, and my crap eyesight in dim lighting struggled to read the title. “Empowerment Brew?”
“All the makings of it are right here.” Sibby waved around the room.

My gaze narrowed on her face. “How do you know that?”

“Because, unlike you, I paid attention when Aunt Jess and Mom took us on nature walks. See that one right there? That’s Belladonna. Nightshade. It is supposed to help people relax. And can also be used as a poison.”

A cold chill gripped my spine. “You don’t think Aunt Jess was making poisons?”
Even for Sibby’s wild imagination, that was a bit of a stretch.

“No. I think she was making natural cocktails. Because that’s what this looks like.” She took the paper back. “Empowerment was kinda Aunt Jess’s thing. Mom’s too. And there was no doubt they knew how to cut loose and have a good time. I checked the list here. It seems straightforward enough. I think we should try it out. Couldn’t we all use a little empowerment in our lives?”

I rolled my eyes. “If you want to ingest strange plants and risk Maeve’s wrath, I won’t stop you. But I’m not paying for your funeral, either.”

At the word funeral, a little light went out of Sibby’s eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“You know you’re almost the same age Mom was when…”

My throat constricted. “I do.”

“I had this dream.” Sibby admitted “About you. Alone in the darkness. You were trapped and….”

“And what?” My voice was tight, betraying nothing.

She didn’t finish. Waved it away. “Nothing. It was just a stupid dream. Don’t pay any attention to me. It’s probably nothing.”
“Probably,” I muttered, not mentioning the fact that I’d had the exact same dream.

Except in mine, I was dead.

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