The Pumpkin Spice Spell (Wisteria Cove, #1)

by Erin Branscom

And what's better than a cozy bookstore and coffee shop in the fall? Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

History has called witches weird as a negative connotation in the past. But if being intuitive, helping others, and loving apothecary makes us witches, then I guess that’s what we are.

I have gifts of discernment and intuition, and Ivy has gifts of care and art. She paints and designs tarot cards and loves to write.

There’s magic in the small, everyday things, and I wish more people knew that.

“I am simply saying, my darling daughters, that life is short, and you should be living it as though it were dipped in honey and rolled in cinnamon sugar.”

He probably thinks he’s this sad Taylor Swift song, but he's just a guy who ghosted us all.”

You know what clears the air between two stubborn people? Breaking a bed frame! Works like a charm!”

“Little gestures. Small magic touches. He believed healers need protectors…someone who stands between them and the wrong people. Someone who makes them feel safe enough to open their heart.”

Ugh. Stupid gorgeous Tate. I squeeze my legs together and try to look away, but it’s really hard.

I know how hard it is to carry the grief of losing a parent. It’s not a club you want to be a part of. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“Sometimes I think that’s why I love fiction books so much,” she says. “They’re safe pain. You feel it, but you know it’s not real. You know the ending’s coming. You know someone wrote it, and it’s not real pain, not usually, anyway.” “But real life?” I say. She nods. “That hurts in a way that doesn’t always get wrapped up.”

The truth is, I still talk about you like you’re mine. I catch myself… and then I realize I need you to be mine again. -Tate

I can’t stop looking at Tate—soft-eyed, hoodie-wearing, kitten-carrying—and thinking: I really might be falling in love with the man who wears a cat.