Gone With the Witch Read Online Free PDF

curve of our high cheekbones, the sharp angles of our jawlines, our heart-shaped faces. We walked alike, laughed alike, but . . . didn’t often think alike.
    I was cautious; she was a risk-taker.
    I was a pacifist; she was a fighter.
    I was a mama hen; she was my wayward chick.
    I’d taken her under my wing the day she was born by emergency C-section, which also happened to be the day our mother had died. Because my father had fallen apart in the aftermath of the tragic car accident that had killed my mother, he hadn’t been that great at caring fora newborn. In one fell swoop, I’d become sister, protector, caregiver, friend, mother.
    I’d been seven years old.
    Twenty-four years later, I loved Harper more than myself.
    â€œNo, it’s not the best display,” I said, looking around. I’d never seen so much animal print and taffeta in my whole life.
    The showroom was packed as people readied their pets and displays. Throughout the day, I was bound to run into familiar faces. Aside from Harper entering Pie in the Charmed, I’m Sure category (best personality), Mimi Sawyer had entered her Saint Bernard, Higgins, in Pooch Smooch (best doggy kiss), and my best friend, Starla Sullivan, had put her bichon frise, Twink, in the Fancy Pants (best outfit) group. My recluse neighbor Terry Goodwin was entering the loquacious Archie in Let’s Hear It (best voice), and Harmony Atchison, a friend and owner of the Pixie Cottage, along with her life partner, Angela Curtis, had entered their new dwarf goat, Cookie, in the same category. Many villagers were involved with the event, either with pets as contestants or behind the scenes. It was bound to be an entertaining day.
    The room was nearly full, and energetic chatter and barking reverberated off the high ceilings. I hadn’t seen Nick and Mimi yet, but the next aisle over, Terry Goodwin was at his booth, chatting with Aunt Ve, who was here spreading village goodwill in her role as village council chairwoman. Surprisingly, she and Terry were still on speaking terms after their somewhat-contentious breakup a couple of weeks ago. Terry, an Elvis lookalike, had donned a disguise for today’s event. The wig of long white hair and fake beard made him look a little like one of the wizards from the
Lord of the Rings
.
    The man knew how to do disguises right.
    Aunt Ve and Terry had probably remained friends,because they had both moved on from each other fairly quickly. Terry with Cherise Goodwin and Ve with Andreus Woodshall, who was often out of town. Thank goodness. I didn’t quite know what to think of him, whether he was good or bad, because he was often both. For now, he made Ve happy and that was enough.
    â€œAll these other displays are so bright and colorful,” I said, my gaze skipping around the room. “Mine sticks out like a sore thumb.”
    To the left of Harper’s table, Baz and Vivienne Lucas stood in front of their booth, which was decorated to the nines with its
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
theme. They’d designed the booth to make it appear as though it was
in
the famous window, on display. Delicate glass platters were loaded with pastries, Tiffany-blue disposable coffee cups were stacked next to several coffee carafes, and there was so much sparkle that it was nearly blinding. In front of the booth, Audrey rested on a blue dog bed, a jeweled tiara somehow fastened to the top of her head instead of her usual bow.
    Next to them, with a less elaborate motorcycle-themed booth, my best friends, Starla Sullivan and her twin brother, Evan, who had Twink dressed in a sequined Evel Knievel–style jumpsuit, were putting the final touches on their display.
    Starla and Evan were both Cross-Crafters, or Crossers as we called them around here. Half Wishcrafter, half Bakecrafter. With Crossers, one craft was usually predominant over the other. In the twins’ case, Evan was a master baker but had issues granting