-
North of Happenstance: Chapter Seven
“Ohmigod, can I just say that I feel great?” Kate shouted at Penny. Biting her lip, Penny tried not to laugh at the sight before her. It was barely five o’clock, and already Kate was, to put it politely, tanked. It was entirely Penny’s fault. She’d demanded Kate get in the car—she’d demanded an evening of relaxation. She’d demanded this little girl’s night in. Kate hadn’t been keen, not at first. “That’s really not necessary,” she’d stressed when Penny informed her of the plan. “Well, I insist. Now where did you park?” Penny had thrown back, craning her neck to the left, the better to see behind her. “Why?” Kate…
-
North of Happenstance: Chapter Nineteen
“I think you should wear this.” Kate looked over to where Madame Penny was standing half-inside her closet. “Just that, huh?” Kate asked incredulously. The psychic held in her hand a black lacy camisole. She knew what Madame Penny was doing, but it wasn’t going to work. Kate was not going to blush, she was not going to giggle nervously. She was not going to give her friend any more ammunition then she’d already done. “It might be a little too breezy. It is winter after all.” Kate was proud when her voice came out dry, unruffled. Penny rolled her eyes, hanging the silky garment back in the closet. “Whatever. Fine.…
-
North of Happenstance: Chapter Fifty-Two
With a painful flick of her wrist, Penny thrust on the light switch as she entered her shop. Grimacing at the assaulting yellow glow of the overhead bulbs, her hand instinctively coming to rest against her temple, her mouth letting out a whoosh of breath, Penny slowly steered her way toward the coffee…. God, she’d forgotten how terrible a hangover really was… Last night had been—well, it had been one of the best nights in her life. There she’d been, sitting up in bed, fully clothed in a pair of leggings and a dark blue tunic with a splash of dark green fabric around the hem, staring out her window,…
-
North of Happenstance: Chapter Fifty-Four
What was it about her shop lately, Penny wondered fleetingly—everyone and their mother, it seemed, felt compelled to just drop by unexpectedly, seeking all sorts of random advice (like she was some columnist in the newspaper). All of this would be fine, of course, if even one person were interested in the spiritual world. But there was pretty much zero chance of that, especially considering the latest in the long line of unannounced visitors who’d just passed over her threshold— Hank Burke. Didn’t need to by psychic to know he wasn’t here to get insight from the Angel messages. Penny tried not to grimace when she looked up to see…