“You’re looking a little pensive,” Heather said.
“It’s been three months since Leilanie was implanted with my eggs. The time when she could end the pregnancy is nearing. Somewhere out there, in the future, I might have three biological babies,” Michelle said. “It makes me sad to think about it.”
Heather nodded. “Maybe Leilanie will come to her senses, but truthfully, if she’s still under Omar’s spell, the chances are slim.”
“Yeah, I know,” Michelle said. “How’s Mike’s research coming on all the psychic stuff? Is he still talking to Vincent?”
“He and the professor have become great friends. They talk on the phone a couple times a week. Mike is urging Vincent to write up everything we experienced, both here in Hawaii, and in Mexico. He’s such a respected scientist, Mike thinks he should publish it in a book.”
“Probably ruin Vincent’s career. No one would believe him.” Michelle laughed, then said cynically, “Maybe if he published it as fiction it would be okay. He wouldn’t lose the scientific respect of his colleagues.”
“Kind of a ‘believe it or not’ thing,” Heather agreed. “The professor doesn’t want to do it. Because he’d implicate you, Michelle. People might figure out who he was talking about, even if he changed all the names. It would make you notorious, and you’d never have a moments’ peace. And it would also involve Lucifer and the diamond. If anyone knew how much that diamond was worth, they might try to get it. It would put you in too much danger.”
“I like the ‘believe it or not’ idea,” Michelle speculated. “It might make people think about the real possibility of psychic phenomena existing in our world. I don’t think, even with his credentials, Vincent could get a publisher to take him seriously and give him a big chunk of cash upfront for a book no one would believe.”
“But we know the truth. Evil exists in the world,” Heather said.
“So does good,” Michelle said when she heard another knock on her door. It was Friday night. The whole wonderful weekend was before her.
Rod was at the door.
The End
I hope you enjoyed reading
Witchy Woman
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In case you haven’t read the first book, The Necromancer, here is an excerpt.
PROLOGUE
It was just past twilight, almost time for the Crystal Prophesies. Omar leaned his elbows on the penthouse balcony, enjoying the moment. This was a magical time of day and he was a magician. He preferred calling himself a Necromancer to the common titles: warlock, conjuror, magus, seer or wizard. There were subtle variations, but he fancied ‘romancer’ in his title. Necromancer. It described him. He romanced his way into hearts and minds. With the help of a little magic.
As he gazed at the panorama spread out below, the Pacific slowly changed from light blue to a misty topaz. Lush clouds floated on the horizon, and stars began to glow. To his left was the tinsel-tourist Waikiki, and to his right the city of Honolulu was lighting up. Below him, in this very building, he could sense the presence of a remarkable woman.
He turned, gazing through plate glass windows into his new penthouse. Ginger and Samson were inside. Ginger noticed his look and, with a flourish, she uncovered an enormous crystal ball from its leather shroud. She winked at him. Ginger was a disciple, a beautiful tall woman, with long curly red hair. She wore a flowing blue gown for the ceremony.
It was a tradition for the three of them to gaze into the crystal ball to divine their future when they expanded to a new location. They had arrived in Oahu a week ago. Tonight was perfect, the time of the full moon.
Omar went inside and sat down in front of the crystal. The sphere was almost two feet in diameter and sparkled on a base of black onyx. The three were seated in the main living room, beneath a skylight. White rafters crossed the cathedral ceiling. The room was dark except for a cold silvery glow from the candles Ginger had placed around the room.
Omar passed his hands over the crystal ball several times for theatrical effect, principally for Samson, who was watching with curious eyes. Omar’s acolyte, Samson was a gigantic man who would never age mentally. He did remember this ritual. His mouth was open in anticipation.
Omar frowned and leaned closer, gazing into the depths of the crystal. Indeed, the omens were not auspicious. Red forms floated amorphously inside, constantly changing shape. This denoted the substance that controlled all magical rites. Blood was a fluid like the tide; it flowed like the ocean, was coaxed by the moon to move subtly in bodies, causing emotional changes called lunacy. Sometimes it spilled.
The black he observed, swirling around the red forms like a night wind, could be taken as a symbol of his own influence. It was the bright white light clashing there which forced Omar’s dark eyebrows to slide together. White, an opposing force, seemed capable of exerting great influence in these Hawaiian Islands. Omar couldn’t tell if it indicated an old curse peculiar to these islands, with their ancient polytheist beliefs, or if it referred to a threatening individual.
The white was glowing, taking over. There was busy movement inside the crystal. It might have been a reflection from the stark white walls, but Omar was not taking chances.
“Who will sacrifice?” he asked, frowning at Ginger and Samson in
