50 Ways to Hex Your Lover by Linda Wisdom Read Free Book Online Page B

ruthlessly ignored the heat skimming along her nerve
     endings. How many times had she vowed no more where the sexy vampire was concerned? How many times had she sworn she would
     have nothing to do with him again? More times than she could count on her fingers and toes many times over, yet, damn him,
     he always managed to seduce her all over again. This time she was determined to avoid being pulled into his sphere. Of course,
     every slipup in her past where he was concerned told her that was easier said than done.
    Besides, didn’t she have enough problems in her life without once again adding a “he makes me crazy” vampire to the mix?
    She wrinkled her nose at the sharp tang of cigarette smoke. “Get rid of that fucking cigarette, Irma! How many times do you
     have to be told this car is a no smoking vehicle?”
    “As if you haven’t conjured up some smoke of your own. I will have you know that Preacher Morris wouldn’t appreciate the language
     you use in front of a lady,” Irma sniffed as her cigarette disappeared from view.
    “Then Preacher Morris never knew the real you, did he?” Jazz pulled out onto the street without looking either way.
    “You drive like a maniac,” the older woman muttered. “Am I allowed to know where we’re going today or do I have to guess?”
    “Errands. It’s turning into a gorgeous day, so why not sit back, be quiet, and enjoy the ride.” Jazz sped up as they passed
     the palm tree-lined road that led to the beach and the boardwalk. In the bright daylight, the tall Ferris wheel looked drab—almost
     shabby—without its bright lights and tinny music adding to the mystique.
    Tourist shops were likewise quieter with many of the store owners and employees standing outside to enjoy the last of the
     morning calm. Jazz honked and waved to those she knew. With one hand on the wheel, she was able to sip her coffee to keep
     her caffeine buzz intact. Irma’s obeying Jazz’s suggestion of silence lasted until Jazz made a quick stop at a local fast
     food restaurant for a breakfast burrito.
    “You should think of eating something healthier than that thing you’re eating. I cooked my Harold a hearty breakfast every
     morning,” Irma said. “Three eggs over easy, bacon or sausage, country fried potatoes, and my buttermilk biscuits with preserves
     I put up myself. He wouldn’t have dreamed of going to one of those places for a meal that doesn’t look fit for a dog.”
    Not for the world would Jazz admit that her mouth was watering at the idea of a full country-style breakfast. For that alone
     she was tempted to try, one more time, to charm Irma out of the car—as long as she could manage to get her into the kitchen.
    “I’m amazed good ole Harold didn’t die of a heart attack from all the cholesterol he shoveled into his mouth every day. I
     bet you fried everything in lard and real butter, too.” She finished the last of her breakfast burrito and daintily licked
     her fingers clean.
    “What I should have done after finding out he was doing the dirty deed with Lorraine Bigelow was put rat poison in his biscuits
     instead of killing myself in his precious car.” Irma uttered an unladylike growl.
    For a moment, brief as it was, Jazz thought of offering the woman a bit of comfort. Sure, Irma drove her crazy, but if she
     hadn’t killed herself in Harold’s car and remained a curse inside the vehicle, Jazz wouldn’t have been the lucky recipient
     of the T-Bird. Driving it fast was almost as good as great sex. Almost.
    “Although, my doing that meant he didn’t want to drive that tart around in the car,” Irma finished with a self-satisfied smile.
     “And even if you drive like a maniac, I have been able to see a lot of the country.”
    So much for thinking the woman was mourning her old life. But she couldn’t miss that hint of sadness crossing Irma’s face.
    “And now I suppose we’re going to see that ugly man who has all those nasty dwarves working for