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With my body I thee worship.
Planning a wedding equaled insanity. Sonya decided that once you’d accepted that as incontrovertible fact, you could just get on with it.
Who knew, she thought, that love could snuff out like a candle in a stiff breeze? And leave no trace. None at all.
“What do you want to do?” Cleo pulled back, looked at Sonya with her long-lidded tawny eyes. “Tell me what you want, and it’s done. Murder? Decapitation? Castration?”
We’ll put a curse on it, bury it and a pair of his boxers under a full moon. And every time he thinks about roping another woman in, he’ll get a chronic case of jock itch.”
“Erosion happens gradually.” Winter rubbed Sonya’s shoulders. “A rock’s strong, but it doesn’t notice how the water’s wearing it away.”
“I shouldn’t say this, but I’m going to. He won’t last here. He’s talented, and he’s savvy, but he’s shown himself to be dishonest, petty, and damn it, vindictive. He won’t last with us.”
“Some loves are forever.”
Sonya understood the full meaning of poignant. It hurt, and it warmed, it brushed the dust off old sorrows even as it lifted new joy.
I think I need a cookie. Do you want cookies?” “I trust no one who answers no to that question.”
I bake when I’m thinking.” “I eat when I’m thinking.
My father, the younger of twins by seven minutes, inherited the manor and his brother’s share of the Poole family business when, in the autumn of 1806, my uncle died by his own hand soon after the tragic death—by murder—of his bride of only hours.
A woman with a two-story library hardly needed books, but to Sonya’s mind nothing held the pulse of a community like a bookstore.
“First boy I kissed. No spark on either side, but you don’t know till you know.”
“Hell, ghosts are just people who aren’t ready or able to move on or recycle. You can bet I’m going to haunt this place after my time comes.”
You’re a genius.” Sonya let out the breath. “That’s true, but it’s always nice to have my genius recognized.”
Hot chocolate by the fire on a snowy afternoon sounded glorious.
Again and again, over and over, year by year, and bride by bride. Find the seven rings. Break the curse.
All houses wherein men have lived and died are haunted houses.
“She’s your type.” Surprised, amused, Trey swiveled back. “Since when do I have a type?” “Since she walked in.”
Houses need people, don’t you think, or they’re just walls.
“Your situation normal and mine don’t exist on the same planet.”
If we’re going to save the planet, we need the bright, committed, loyal, and plenty of heart.”
She planned out her dinner party day not like a general prepping for battle but like a lowly recruit who’d been inexplicably field promoted.
“If you’re not honest with a client, you’ll lose the client.”
“A man, a dog, and a pizza. Jackpot!”
As it should be.
“Will you punch him in the face?” “That’s always satisfying, in the moment. But you can prolong the moment by maneuvering him into doing the punching, in front of witnesses. Then he’s got an assault charge to deal with.”
“Once a single guy hits thirty, you spend half your time at a family wedding dodging the when’s-your-turn question.” “For women that comes once you pass twenty-five.
“’Nuf said.”
Hahahaha! But it should be "'Nuff said."
“My always rational daughter’s telling me, very seriously, that her house is haunted and she’s making scallops? How much shock do you think my system can handle?” “That’s why wine first.”
“Why aren’t I meeting him tonight?” “That’s such a mom thing—going straight there when we’re talking about the ghost of your mother-in-law.”
“Sweetie, that’s terrifying. That’s Shirley Jackson territory.
I love knowing you and Dad had magic.” “The magic made you. Stay happy.”
When you had to fret over emojis, she thought, your dating skills needed honing.
“I like weddings. They’re full of color and drama and joy.” “And drunken relatives.” “The best ones are.”
“News doesn’t travel in Poole’s Bay. It sprints.”
“My best friend moved to Montana last summer. I miss her even more than wine, margaritas, and a second cup of coffee.”
From the Gold Room came the pounding. “Oh, fuck off,” Cleo snapped. “You can’t spoil this for me.”
“Talk about adorable. Natty! That’s the word. How often do you get to use natty in a sentence?”
As she got ready for bed, she decided she couldn’t be afraid or annoyed with a spirit that liked playing with her dog.
There’s a school of thought that hauntings are just people out of their own time. Like a slip in time.
“Why do spiders have to have all those legs?” “Because spiders?” “Anything over four is just creepy.” “As opposed to a house inhabited by numerous ghosts and a dead, vicious witch?” “Damn right. I’ll take ghosts over spiders all day, every day.
bacon and coffee. The duet of siren calls.
This, she thought, was what she wanted. The big, beautiful house around her, the restless sea outside, the dog napping by the fire. And her work.
She supposed a part of her would always miss the office camaraderie, but the trade-off? Trusting herself, her eyes, her instincts? It balanced it all out.
“Trey Doyle’s not just a pretty face. He’s a really good man.”
But bad people live in good places.”
“Mom told me what she had with Dad was magic.” Cleo glanced back. “And you want that?” “Yeah. Don’t you?” “Damn right I do. I think everybody in the world wants that, and the lucky make it. Because you don’t find magic, Son, you make it.” “You make it. I like that idea.” “Not an idea, a fact.”
“Light always wins. Sometimes it takes way too long, but it always wins.”
