Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow, #1)

by Ali K. Mulford

Summoning the ghost of my ex-girlfriend on the anniversary of our breakup wasn’t one of them. Yet here I was, drunk at three a.m. in a circle of salt.

Had she been relegated to an immortality of wearing the lesbian staple outfit of chunky shoes and cargo pants?

“This is the gayest thing we’ve ever done, by the way,” she said. “Summoning me from the afterlife to have one more long talk about our feelings.”

She wiggled her brow.

Why must we wiggle our eyebrows? This is going to make me dnf it.

“I can’t just fall in love on command to get rid of you,” I said, combing an exasperated hand through my hair. “There’s not exactly a bevy of queer women floating about town. I can’t just snap my fingers and have one stumble through the door.” At that very moment, a girl in sage-green overalls covered by a familiar apron walked in the door. She had a shaggy wolf cut, a nose ring, and a bisexual pride flag pinned to her jean jacket.

Omfg 🤣

She had a smart, bookish, and—maybe I was overreaching—slightly queer vibe, like an Oxford professor and a Chapstick lesbian had a baby.

Was she queer, or was she just magical? Although a lot of times, it felt like the same thing.

I fought the smile pulling my lips up at the way she said “us.” As if after one date, we were already a couple. As if there were an “us” after a single kiss. God, I loved women. In two more dates, I would be ready to adopt a cat with her.

This witch and I had gone on one single date and I was already ready to jump her bones. Fuck. Maybe I should book the U-Haul now . . .

It was like I’d spent my whole life staring at the moon and she’d walked in with all of her sunshine. Now I was constantly seeking out her warmth, constantly turning toward the sun.