Love Potion #9 Read Online Free PDF

have I told you that all of that stuff is garbage?”
    â€œIt’s not.”
    â€œIt is . These people are all charlatans looking to make a quick buck.”
    â€œYou don’t even know her.”
    â€œI don’t have to.”
    â€œAnd where’s that open mind of yours?”
    â€œThese operations are a cover for opportunism, if not more. I don’t even know how many frauds have been uncovered.” Mitch shook a pair of tongs at his stepmother. “You should be more careful about going to these places, let alone about giving them your credit card numbers.”
    Andrea folded her arms across her chest, the glint in her eye revealing that she was digging in her heels. “Nonsense. There’s bad in every kind, but lots of these people have a genuine gift. You should go and meet this woman, just to prove yourself wrong.”
    â€œBecause I have nothing else to do?”
    â€œBecause she’s your neighbor.”
    â€œCooley’s going to eat her cat any day now, so even a remote acquaintance is doomed to failure.”
    Andrea laughed. ‘You’re just afraid you could be wrong.”
    Mitch’s head snapped up. “I am not!”
    Andrea smiled at him.
    No. She smirked, a dare in her eyes.
    â€œDaddy’s not afraid of nothing,” Jen declared. She tapped her chocolate-smeared fingers on Andrea’s wrist with a confidential air she’d obviously copied from that woman. “Nana, we went swimming.”
    â€œDid you, dear?” Andrea’s gaze never wavered from Mitch’s. “I’ll bet you’ve never even talked to a psychic.”
    â€œThere’s a yawning hole in my life. You probably haven’t ever talked to a real one either.” Mitch spied his prey at the bottom of the box, beneath a collection of faded Tupperware. “Ha!” He set the coffeemaker on the counter triumphantly.
    Could he possibly be so organized as to have packed the filters in the same box?
    â€œSome investigative reporter,” Andrea scoffed. “I thought journalists were supposed to base their conclusions on facts .”
    That statement caught Mitch’s attention as surely as it was meant to do. There was nothing he held more sacred than his journalistic integrity.
    Except maybe his natural ability to hone in on the truth. Mitch was a damn good reporter and he knew it.
    But Andrea had found a telling niche in his armor. He knew that all this paranormal stuff was bunk, but he’d never actually proved it.
    That was not a welcome realization.
    â€œAre you insinuating that I’m making a biased judgment?” he asked.
    â€œNo.” Andrea smiled. “I’m saying you are.” She held his gaze. “Afraid to find out you’re wrong, Mr. Hotshot Reporter?”
    â€œI’m not wrong,” Mitch said. His low tone should have warned Andrea that she was on dangerous ground.
    If she knew it, she apparently didn’t care.
    She shook her head. “Your father always said you were too stubborn for your own good. I thought he was too hard on you, but…”
    â€œThat’s it!” Mitch slammed the box closed and marched to the front door. He turned back to glare at his stepmother. “Watch the kids for a few minutes, would you?”
    He would go and meet the flake, prove that she was a charlatan, and be home in five minutes. Mission accomplished.
    It wasn’t exactly rocket science.
    â€œOf course!” Andrea said, laughing at him. “Let us know what you learn.”
    He ignored her as he strode down the steps and across the lawn. The neon sign on his neighbor’s house blinked in candy cane pink.
    Lilith’s Lovematches.
    Right.
    Â 
    * * *
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    Lilith prowled through her house restlessly, noting how the light coming through the back windows had turned golden. Soon the twilight would creep over the sky, the time she found more and more difficult to bear. Twilight was the