Witching For Grace (Premonition Pointe #1) - Deanna Chase
Chapter One
“Erectile dysfunction!” Joy exclaimed as she stood and raised her wine glass toward the churning ocean. Her long blond hair flowed out behind her, lifting gently on the breeze as if she were in some sort of shampoo commercial. “That’s it. That’s the curse we’re going to inflict on that no-good, two-timing jackhole.”
Grace eyed her normally even-tempered friend. She loved this new diabolical side of her and forced herself to shake off the tiny stab of jealousy that tried and failed to creep in. Joy Lansing was youthful-looking with her tall, model-thin physique and luxurious golden locks. Even at the age of forty-eight, most people guessed her to be in her early thirties. Lucky bitch. Grace on the other hand, who was five feet seven, twenty-five pounds over her goal weight, and in desperate need of coloring her silver roots to match her auburn-dyed hair, was only forty-five and had recently been given the senior citizen discount at the local dry cleaners. When she’d scoffed, the cashier just shrugged and said there were advantages to aging gracefully. Grace had instantly made a note to schedule an appointment at the spa for every treatment available to de-hag her appearance. So far she hadn’t gotten around to it.
“I don’t think Grace needs the karma that would come along with that sort of hex,” Hope said, brushing her black curls out of her dark eyes. She was the short one of the group but full of self-confidence, and she had an air about her that just made people listen when she spoke. It was part of why she was such a great event planner. Hope smirked at Joy and raised her wine glass in solidarity as she added, “But I like your style.”
Grace eyed her two closest friends, taking in their windswept appearances and glinting eyes, and decided they were brilliant. She didn’t need an ungrateful husband who’d already moved on to a woman half his age. Good luck to him when his new fiancée had no idea how to run his office. The place had to have erupted into chaos on her first day. Grace was sure of it, since she’d been the one running his office for the past twenty years. But he definitely deserved some sort of other retaliation for walking out on her three months ago and moving right in with her replacement.
He hadn’t even been gone a week before he’d asked her to sign divorce papers. After getting the settlement she wanted, two weeks later, they’d both signed. Everything was done on their end, only now they were in the six month waiting period for the state to finalize things. She couldn’t wait for the day her divorce certificate showed up in the mail so that she would finally be free of the bastard. Twenty years was a lot of wasted time on someone who just dumped her for the next best thing. She straightened her shoulders, determined to wreak some havoc on her ex, and said, “Nope. That’s the curse we’re doing. That… jackhole? Is that what you called him, Joy?”
“Yep. Jackhole. Douchecanoe. Poopstain. Take your pick.” The tall, willowy blonde downed the rest of her wine before adding, “I hope his girlfriend gives him genital warts. That would serve him right.”
“Poopstain?” Grace choked out a laugh, wondering just how much wine Joy had sucked down. Normally her friend was the stoic voice of reason. Of the three of them, she was the only one with children and often played the role of den mother of their little coven. “Genital warts? Who are you right now?”
“It’s been a rough week, okay?” Joy poured another glass of wine, filling it almost to the rim, and sat next to Grace. “Hunter got into a fender bender, Britt started dating that biker guy from Hollow Hills, and I walked in on Kyle when he was… uh, having a private moment while watching free porn on the internet. And you know where Paul was for all of this?”
Grace shook her head, but she’d already guessed that Paul had been at work, too busy to help Joy deal with anything on the home front.
“At the office… pretending he’s important?” Hope asked as if the answer would ever be anything different. She sat cross-legged in front of them on the grassy cliff and wrapped a shawl around her curvy frame.
Grace snorted at Hope’s question. Hope Anderson was always the one to tell it like it is. But she was also never short on