To Snap a Silver Stem (Crystal Bloom, #2)

by Sarah A. Parker

Zane nods, a divot of concentration etched between his eyes. “They say you’re a witch. That you chew on acorn shells and pick mushrooms off piles of horse shit.”

My horse likes to bite.

I have no idea what my life expectancy is. Perhaps I’m eternal. A simmering stain that doesn’t rub out.

“Permission to speak frankly?” he bites out, and I wince. “Yes …” “What the fuck?” “I deserve that,” I admit, tucking sodden hair off my face.