Haunting Leigh: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Literal Leigh Romance Diaries Book 4) by Melanie James

bastard to my gators.” She held up her Voodoo necklace and among the various bony things that were suspended on it was a single chicken’s beak. “See this? It’s all that’s left of that one. That’s how you do it the witchy way. A woman has got to be creative, especially with a man that’s lower than a mudbug in winter.”
    “No. No, I swear. He’s none of those. See?” I lifted Hunters limp arm. The bouquet was still in his grip. The white daisy heads and small blue flowers dangled down in such a sad way that I started to cry. “Flowers.” I tried to stop sobbing. “He brought me flowers, and I split his skull.” The reality of what I had done hit me so hard at that particular moment. I knew I’d burn at the stake for this incident, and deservedly so. That is, if the state of Illinois even did that sort of thing. No matter, they would probably bring back stake burnings just for me. “I was trying to throw a vase at the door and he just happened to walk in at the exact same moment.”
    “Relax, sweetie.” Marie reached into her robe to retrieve her wand. It looked like nothing more than a rough stick you would find laying under a tree. She waved it over Hunter and chanted something mysterious and unintelligible. His body began to levitate. I put my hands over my mouth, trying to keep it together. With a single swing, Hunter floated away to the bedroom. We all followed, Luna included. With small movements of her wand, Marie lowered Hunter gently onto the bed.
    “Now what?” I cried.
    “The reason I came here is because anytime a witch releases a powerful burst of witchcraft in a fit of rage, an alarm goes off at the union office. We had to set that system up to keep a handle on these sorts of things. Let me tell you, over the years some of these women have been able to really set a new definition for an evil witch. And it’s always because of a man. Always. Always. Always. I remember this one witch, she—”
    Now was not the time for an oral history of witchcraft gone awry. “Marie! I didn’t use magic, I just threw that vase.” I pointed to the vase that was lying on the floor.
    “Yes, but you were so enraged. You were so furious and you were focusing all of that energy in one single part of your mind. When you whipped that vase out, you not only released your anger, you shot your man right through the heart with magic. You knocked his ghost straight out of him.”
    “What? What the hell do you mean? How did I knock his ghost out? Are you kidding?” This went against every bit of logic that remained in my brain. I simply couldn’t even begin to comprehend that thought.
    “Yeah, you know—his spirit, his soul, whatever you like to call it. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times. Your magic is keeping his body alive in a state of suspended animation . At least that’s the way I describe it. I got the idea to call it that after watching a movie about these people that were traveling through space—”
    “Marie! Suspended animation. I get it. What about his...his ghost? Where is it?”
    “Oh, it’s here somewhere. That sucker will stay close to his physical body. I’ll snag it and put it back in. He’ll be fine after that.” Marie closed her eyes and held her hands up over her head and moved her fingers. She slowly turned around as if she was feeling the air for Hunter’s ghost. It goes without saying, I was barely able to control my tears. This was frightening in so many ways. I prayed that she would find him.
    “Bad news, sweetie. His ghost isn’t here. I don’t understand it. Even if you blew it out the front door, it should bounce right back near his body. Something or someone else is involved. I sense that.”
    “What? What else? Who else?” I started to shake as the stream of tears flowed harder down my face.
    “I don’t know for sure, but if I had to give my best guess…” Marie put her hands out in front of her as she walked to the front door where I had accidentally