did. I just wanted to drive by my shop. Just to see it again. Just to remind myself this dream of mine was really real and not only real, it was in the midst of coming true.
The Jeep slowed to a crawl as I turned onto Main Street. I drove down the blocks of picturesque street, the bank of maple trees in the middle separating both directions of traffic. The trees were changing color and the leaves that had already lost their battle with Autumn were now decorating the curb on either side.
The city of Haven Hollow rested in the slope between two steep hills, under an almost constant layer of heavy gray clouds. The sun rarely broke through those clouds, giving the town an almost gloomy air. I suspected that suited the residents of Haven Hollow just fine. The brochures on the town that Ophelia had included in her gift basket revealed a history of hauntings, strange happenings, and, worryingly, an urban legend about a witch who’d lived in the Tayir House, on the outskirts of town, almost a century ago.
I sincerely hoped that urban legend wasn’t true.
It was entirely possible that a witch could still be alive and kicking after a century. And even if the Tayir Witch had died under mysterious circumstances, as the literature claimed, a witch having lived in Haven Hollow could still wreak havoc on my life here. As a rule, witches didn’t let go of their territories. If a witch had lived in the Tayir House, that meant the witch’s coven still owned the land.
But, I’d checked to make sure no witches owned land in Haven Hollow. I’d done my homework.
So what are you worried about? I asked myself.
I’m not worried! Besides, this is my town now! I reminded myself. And no witch is going to force me out!
Hmph, what about a witch and the entire coven standing behind her?
It’s not like I don’t have magic, I argued back. As Gypsies go, I’m powerful.
True, but you don’t have witch magic. And there’s a difference. And you also don’t have the benefit of thirty or so bffs backing you up.
Right... I have McFly.
And that wasn’t much of a consolation.
Regardless, you did your research and there were no witches staking claim to Haven Hollow, so stop freaking out and focus on positive things, instead!
So that’s exactly what I did. I focused on the adorable downtown area of Haven Hollow and tried to force thoughts of witches to the back of my mind.
Main Street wasn’t so much a street as a long cul-de-sac bordered on each side by shops. The architecture reminded me of New England. A lot of brick and colonial buildings. The brick on the nearest shop had faded to a rusty brown and a white, yellow, and orange awning stretched over a pair of double doors and a wide shop window. A wheelbarrow parked outside the shop was filled almost to the brim with taffies and candy corns. The sign rising from the middle of the wheelbarrow claimed one could get two pounds of candy corn free with a fifty-dollar purchase.
That was a lot of money. But it was also a lot of candy corns.
The decal on the shop window depicted a candied apple with a grinning skull face peering out through the dripping caramel. Just beneath it, in huge, gold letters read; SWEETER HAUNTS. It was the candy shop Marty had mentioned. Had he created their logo? If so, I was definitely going to have to hire him to do mine. It was very well done.
Just a few paces away from the candy store was a two-story, Colonial-style shop. A mannequin smiled blankly at passersby, oblivious to the fact she was wearing a hoop skirt and nothing else. No fancy decals for this shop, just a large bronze placard next to the door that read; ODDBALLS AND END TABLES.
There were more shops further down the street. A small craft store, a visitor’s center with a gift shop and, at the very end of the street, where the large cul-de-sac snaked the road in on itself, was Stomper’s Creamery. It looked like it may have once been a two-horse modular stable, but had since been converted into an ice cream stand. I could make out the shape of the owner hanging most of his torso out the window so he could hand a dish of soft serve ice cream to a mother and a banana split to her child. The girl’s red hair