But in case you’ve not already heard about These Hollow Hearts<\/em>, first I’m going to take a moment to introduce you and then we’ll get to the story, because for a very limited time These Hollow Hearts<\/em> is available at a discount, but it will be going back to its regular price tomorrow.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”1_2″][et_pb_image _builder_version=”3.19.18″ src=”http:\/\/www.penandkinkpub.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/THH-ebook.jpg” align=”center” \/][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_2″][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text – Back cover copy” _builder_version=”3.19.18″]<\/p>\n New Orleans social climber, Cheyanne Murphey has worked too hard to let her fianc\u00e9\u2019s wandering eye drag her name through the gutter, and she has the perfect solution to make him stay: an incantation from her deceased Granny\u2019s spell book. Family legend says the Murphey women\u2019s magic is cursed, but that is a risk Cheyanne is willing to take.<\/p>\n When middle sister Marchland\u2019s heart is also broken by a man who does her wrong, not even witnessing disastrous results of Cheyanne\u2019s attempt at spellcasting will stop her from using her family\u2019s powers to exact revenge. With the help of her sisters, Marchland casts a spell to teach the scumbag a lesson he won\u2019t forget. Unfortunately, neither will she.<\/p>\n The youngest Murphey sister, Bradley, would be happy to never work a spell again but when she accidentally kills a man she has no choice but to turn to her family\u2019s cursed magic for help. The wayward spell teaches Bradley the hard lesson that sometimes it\u2019s best to let dead things rot.<\/p>\n With all three sisters in deep trouble, they seek help in the form of the Elder-Witch, a sorceress who claims she can fix their mistakes\u2026 but magic always comes with a price, and this one may be more than the Murphey sisters are willing to pay.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text admin_label=”These Hollow Hearts Buy Links” _builder_version=”3.19.18″ saved_tabs=”all” global_module=”6416″]<\/p>\n Available March 12th!<\/strong><\/p>\n Amazon (US<\/a>) (CA<\/a>) (UK<\/a>)<\/p>\n iBooks<\/p>\n B&N<\/a><\/p>\n Kobo<\/a><\/p>\n Or\u00a0go here now<\/a>\u00a0to read more<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image admin_label=”Image – Story Cover” _builder_version=”3.19.18″ src=”http:\/\/www.penandkinkpub.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/03\/A-Peculiar-Old-Lady-Indeed.png” align=”center” \/][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text – Story” _builder_version=”3.19.18″]<\/p>\n Em Shotwell<\/p>\n Agatha-Rosemary didn\u2019t like door-to-door Rainbow Vacuum Cleaner salesman, but she did, however, like cats. This was how she came to own Bob. For the most part, Bob was okay with it.<\/p>\n Bob was a tall cat, with a round belly and rust-orange fur. He possessed a deep mew that sounded annoyed, even though Bob rarely was. \u00a0His favorite thing to do was melt into a sun puddle on the kitchen floor and dream. Sometimes he dreamed he was a tall man with red hair who wore a suit, but usually he just dreamed of mice.\u00a0<\/p>\n All in all, Bob was a mellow boy, who didn\u2019t even get upset when Agatha-Rosemary vacuumed her floors. Instead of the terror felt by most cats, Bob felt a strange sense of pride when she plugged in and started her Rainbow D2 Blue, as if somehow he\u2019d done a good job. This feeling started at the tip of his tail and tickled its way down his spine, until it settled between his ears, where it twitched around until something like a memory formed\u2014almost in grasp\u2014before flittering away. This was most annoying as it usually meant a nap was out of the question for the moment, leaving Bob filled with the need to chase something. When this happened, Bob went for the sparrows that frequented Agatha-Rosemary\u2019s bird feeders. She didn\u2019t like it when he killed her birds, but when he was agitated by the almost-memory, her disapproval made the winged meal even more satisfying.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t floor-vacuuming-day, which meant the sparrows were safe, and Bob sat perched on the dining room table, watching as Agatha-Rosemary, who, he thought, looked a little worse for the wear, ran her gnarled fingers over the bottles shelved in her kitchen. The bottles were blue-tinted glass and each labeled with a different name and date, which Bob could read clear as day. This wasn\u2019t strange to him because Bob didn\u2019t know that he could read them, or that other cats couldn\u2019t, or even what reading meant at all. He only knew that one bottle said Janice Bertie 1990, while another said Roberta Craine 1983.<\/p>\n The shelves housing the bottles ran from floor to ceiling and took up an entire wall in the kitchen. The ones near the top were dusty, and the first one on the very top row had such a thick layer that Bob could barely make out the name or date, Mary Smith 1943. Or maybe May Smith. Or perhaps Marly Smoot. Bob didn\u2019t concern himself with the details. There were more important things to worry about, like his empty food bowl.<\/p>\n He could read the newest one near the bottom shelf easy as pie, however: Kayleigh Brenard 2016, and below Kayleigh there were two empty shelves waiting to be filled. Bob didn\u2019t know what the names nor dates meant, and being a cat, he didn\u2019t feel the need to find out. He only knew that if he batted one from the shelf and it broke, then he got dry kibble instead of whatever Agatha-Rosemary prepared on the stove, and he didn\u2019t approve when that happened. Not at all.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you say Bobbi-boy, hmm? I\u2019m feeling every one of these wrinkles of mine. I think it is time for a pick me up.\u201d Agatha-Rosemary looked over her shoulder at Bob and smiled, her lips so thin that if you didn\u2019t know better, you might not recognize the expression as a smile at all.<\/p>\n \u201cReow,\u201d Bob said, and licked his paw.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t give me that\u2014I have not been dipping into the stash too much. It has been at least a year. And if I don\u2019t start using some of these on top, they will expire soon and what good will that be?\u201d\u00a0 She stood on her tip toes and squinted, searching for a particular bottle. When she found one that said Marilyn 1956, she plucked it from the shelf and unscrewed the lid.<\/p>\n She inhaled deeply from the container and her eyes narrowed into two slits. \u201cYes. Yes, that\u2019s the stuff. Left over from my time in California. Lots of poor souls in the sunshine state willing to make deals for a little help, you know. Of course, I\u2019m happy to oblige.\u201d Her smile widened, showing two rows of impossibly sharp teeth.<\/p>\n Bob hopped from the table and twined himself through Agatha-Rosemary\u2019s legs. When she was happy, she was more likely to cook a big meal. And Bob was always in the mood for a big meal.<\/p>\n \u201cReow,\u201d he said. His stomach rumbled at the possibilities.<\/p>\n \u201cI knew you\u2019d understand, Bob. You are such a good kitty. I told you you\u2019d like this better, didn\u2019t I? Yes I did\u2026So much better than your old life.\u201d She hunched forward and scratched Bob\u2019s ears with arthritic fingers.<\/p>\n Bob never knew what she meant when she said things like this, peculiar old lady that she was. He\u2019d once tried to imagine this old life she often referred to, but in his memories there was only home and Agatha-Rosemary and his food bowl. And sometimes, oddly enough, vacuum cleaners. (But mostly not.)<\/p>\n \u201cNow, let\u2019s get this cooked up. Mama needs her youth, you know. I have to go fix something for some witchlings down in New Orleans this week.\u201d Her lined face softened. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Bob, I\u2019ll be back in time for our shows and if you are good I\u2019ll bring you back some beads. Or maybe a nutria. You\u2019d like that, Bob. A nutria is a kind of rat that is as big as you, old boy.\u201d<\/p>\n Bob\u2019s eyes widened and he stood and paced in a tight circle. His peculiar old lady was right, he\u2019d like that very much.<\/p>\n Agatha-Rosemary pulled a wooden spoon from her pocket, and like a mother doling out medicine, she carefully poured the thick, red droplets from the jar. Bob knew the droplets were blood. Like with the reading\u2014he didn\u2019t know how he knew, but something in his feline brain always recognized the tasty fluid. He licked his teeth and thought of the mice and sparrows riggeling in his jaws seconds before he bit down for the final time.<\/p>\n Methasda Lukreesh the old woman hissed. In the spoon, the blood fizzled and smoked and she opened her mouth wide and swallowed the liquid. What happened next was Bob\u2019s favorite part. He scurried away and hopped back onto his perch on the table, so he could see clearly.<\/p>\n Agatha-Rosemary\u2019s bones creaked and popped as her spine straightened. She squeezed her hands into fists, then opened and closed her fingers as the arthritic gnarls disappeared from her knuckles.<\/p>\n As this happened, she slid across the room twirling and singing, lithe as a woman a fourth of her age. Her wispy, mottled-gray\u00a0 hair thickened and lightened into a lush white blonde, and every part of her\u2014skin, teeth, hair\u2014all shown with an inner luminosity.<\/p>\n \u201cReow,\u201d called out Bob in appreciation. He stood and spun in a circle three times before sitting back down. It was uncouth for a cat to show too much excitement, after all. He didn\u2019t want Agatha-Rosemary to get too used to it. The old witch danced over to where Bob was sitting and picked him up with two hands. She lifted him overhead and spun and skipped and wiggled across the kitchen, before kissing Bob between his eyes.<\/p>\n Bob hissed until the witch dropped him, She erupted in a chorus of cackles as Bob scuttled underneath a bar stool, highly offended. Yes, he would have to tamp down his show of excitement in the future. Agatha-Rosemary was taking too many liberties. A kiss between the eyes! Not acceptable! He folded into himself and flattened his ears as he watched as his mistress continued to howl with laughter, her sallow complexion finding a color it hadn\u2019t known in years, and her thin limps plumping into something resembling beauty.<\/p>\n Despite his annoyance, Bob smiled. Agatha-Rosemary was happy, and that meant a Bob would eat well at supper time.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text admin_label=”Em” _builder_version=”3.19.18″]<\/p>\n Mama. Wife. Wonder Woman. Author of the Blackbird Summer series, Murphey Family Saga, & nefarious Womens Fiction. Lover of food, music, & sarcasm. Always dreaming.<\/p>\n Visit me at www.EmShotwell.com<\/a><\/p>\n Or let’s be friends on facebook:\u00a0Facebook.com\/EmShotwellauthor<\/a><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider _builder_version=”3.19.18″ show_divider=”off” \/][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text – Don’t forget” _builder_version=”3.19.18″]<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”1_2″][et_pb_image admin_label=”These Hollow Hearts Cover” _builder_version=”3.19.18″ saved_tabs=”all” src=”http:\/\/www.penandkinkpub.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/02\/THHebook-200x300ish.png” align=”center” global_module=”6429″ \/][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”1_2″][et_pb_text admin_label=”These Hollow Hearts Buy Links” _builder_version=”3.19.18″ saved_tabs=”all” global_module=”6416″]<\/p>\n Available March 12th!<\/strong><\/p>\n Amazon (US<\/a>) (CA<\/a>) (UK<\/a>)<\/p>\n iBooks<\/p>\nA Peculiar Old Lady Indeed<\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.penandkinkpub.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/Em-99x150.jpg\")
About Em Shotwell:<\/strong><\/p>\nAnd don’t forget, These Hollow Hearts is returning to their regular price tomorrow. Don’t miss out on these savings — get your copy now!<\/strong><\/h3>\n