A bit of hocus pocus hol.., p.1
A Bit of Hocus Pocus: Holidaze in Salem, #1, page 1
A Bit of Hocus Pocus
Book 1 Holidaze in Salem © 2022 by Kelly Elliott
Cover Design by: Graphics by Stacy
Interior Design & Formatting by: Elaine York, Allusion Publishing
Copy and Proofing Edits by: Andrea Vanryken with Yellow Bird Editing
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information on Kelly and her books, please visit her website www.kellyelliottauthor.com.
A Bit of Witchy History
Chapter One–Hollie
Chapter Two–Lucas
Chapter Three–Hollie
Chapter Four–Lucas
Chapter Five–Hollie
Chapter Six–Hollie
Chapter Seven–Lucas
Chapter Eight–Lucas
Chapter Nine–Hollie
Chapter Ten–Lucas
Chapter Eleven–Hollie
Chapter Twelve–Lucas
Other Books by Kelly Elliott
Before we begin, I need you to know a little something first.
There are witches in my family.
Ever since I was a little girl, my Aunt Lucy has told the same story to me and my sister, Sarah, of how we are from a long-descended line of witches. The most famous one being our eleventh great-grandmother, Sarah Wildes, who was hung in Salem, Massachusetts, during the Salem witch trials. And the best part of the story was how Sarah was named after that famous witch. Okay, that was the best part for my sister, not for me. And that wasn’t even true. Every first-born female on my mother’s side of the family has been named Sarah, but, hey, I never argued with my aunt or sister on that little detail. Don’t worry—my mother gave my father dibs on naming the second born. Me! Thank goodness my father named me after his grandmother, Hollie. Who I might add, was not a witch. At least, I don’t think she was.
Back to the story.
My favorite part of my aunt’s story had always been that our mother married a man with the last name of Craft. According to my Aunt Lucy, it had been fate that the two of them met and fell in love. What a perfect last name for my mother. Elaine Craft. Get it? With my mother coming from a long line of witches… Hello, destiny! I’d like to introduce you to fate. I should mention, my aunt has yet to find any history of witches on my father’s side of the family. But with a name like Craft, there had to be at least one, right? At least, that was her way of thinking as well as that of my sisters. My father, Mike Craft, likes to tease that there are indeed witches in the family because everyone has a little bit of magick in them.
According to Aunt Lucy, it was meant to be that my parents met and fell in love in high school. That their love stayed strong while both went off to college, even though Aunt Lucy swears it was because my mother put a love spell on my father—which my mother has not denied, I might add, nor has she confirmed this part of the story. My father says one day, while walking down the hall on his way to first period, he spotted my mother and felt like someone sucker-punched him. He was in love from that moment on. It was a sweet gesture, and one that I had wanted to happen to me, that I believed would happen to me. Well, until I grew up and realized that events like that were few and far between.
Anyhoo, they fell in love, and today, they are the parents of three kids. The oldest, Sarah, who is thirty-three. Next, me, Hollie, twenty-nine, and last, my brother, Nathan, who just turned twenty-five. All of whom my aunt Lucy has declared as witches. Sarah is totally on board. Nathan, he’s on the fence about it all. I really think it depends on his mood. And me…well…let’s just say I stopped believing in all that hocus pocus when I realized the world wasn’t such a nice place.
But back to the witches in the family.
Let me give you a bit of history on the family. Hang with me for just a bit; I know you’re excited to hear about my little journey.
My mother’s family immigrated from Chipping Norton, a small market town west of Oxfordshire, England. Where, according to both my mother and aunt, the women of the family were rumored to hold special powers. They were healers, and if someone was sick or suffering from an ailment, they went to their herb garden and worked their…magick. Once they came to the US, they continued to be one with the earth, but this time, they wouldn’t be called healers like they had been back in England.
My father’s family was from a small seaside town called Laugharne in Dyfed. They come from a long line of fishermen. Nothing really exciting to report on Dad’s side of the family. My father is still a fisherman to this day and a damn good one. He takes people out on fishing charters and has won numerous fishing championships. We’re all proud of him, especially my mother. She adores my father, just as he does her.
Both towns are on my list of places to visit one day. My mother and Aunt Lucy have gone back to England to meet with relatives. Rumor has it, we’re related to the queen. Sixth cousins, seventh-removed, or something like that? What does that even mean? Removed from what? All I know is, it hasn’t done me a bit of good. It’s not like I can say, “Hey…let me plan the next royal wedding because we’re sixth cousins removed over half a dozen times!” Oh, I haven’t mentioned I’m a party planner. A darn good one at that, if I do say so myself.
I’m sorry…. I digressed a bit.
My sister, Sarah, loved the stories of our witch lineage growing up, and I did as well, until I…well, until I grew up, like I said. Then they simply became silly stories that I no longer had time to entertain. Okay, I will admit it might have something to do with the silly curse I tried to put on Lucas Dayton in first grade after he called me a crybaby. It didn’t work at all, and my heart had been broken. If I was a witch, I sucked at it.
Aunt Lucy would say I was so much like my mother, whereas Sarah was more like Aunt Lucy. Sarah would go and spend time at my aunt’s store nearly every day, perfecting her “craft.” I, on the other hand, spent countless hours with my nose in books. Not the kind of books Sarah and Aunt Lucy studied. I was passionate about reading, just not books about magickal spells. I will admit that every now and then, you’d find me reading a book about witches, but the fictional kind. On my nightstand growing up was Harry Potter. On Sarah’s, The History of Paganism or A Guide to Magical Herbs and Spells. Once or twice, I even caught her and my mother in Mom’s greenhouse with their heads bent over some herb and my mother telling her all the wonderful things that it was used for. I never really got Mom’s obsession with herbs; she hated to cook.
Back to the differences between me and Sarah. I lit candles from Bath & Body Works. Sarah lights white sage and lavender smudge sticks. Whatever floats your boat, I say. I love my sister and aunt dearly, but witches? Nah.
Let’s fast-forward to present day, shall we? I run a successful party planning business in our hometown of Salem. Yes, our family still lives in Salem, and yes, we were forced to go to the Salem Witch Museum every year for a school trip. I mean, if you asked me, I would have rather gone to Boston and seen the art museums, or cool things like that. Oh, and lunch at Legal Sea Foods. Have you had their Bang Bang Cauliflower? It’s amazing. I’m going off-track again. Like I said, I own a party planning company called Holidaze in Salem. Cute, huh? Sarah works at Aunt Lucy’s store. The Covens Magick Cottage. And no, magick is not spelled wrong. If you were a witch, you’d know that that is the way witches spell magick—with a “k” to differentiate it from stage magic. You’re welcome for that bit of information!
You may be wondering why I’m telling you all of this. You’re going to need this info in a bit, once you read all about me standing in a living room with my best friend, Kristin Mills, a spell book in her hands and me holding a Halloween bat. It will make sense, I promise. I should mention, we’re both drunk. I know…I know…. But I’m not a witch, you say! Well, I was pushed to the brink by, of all things…a man. Yes, a man. I’m about to let my best friend talk me into putting a spell on him. Lucas Dayton. I know, I went down this road before in first grade, remember? It didn’t work out so well then either.
Lucas has been a thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. First grade, to be exact. A man whom I love to hate and am secretly in love with. The problem is…Lucas doesn’t like me very much. So, in my drunken state, I was talked into putting what I thought was a spell on him to make him like me just enough to stop making my life miserable, with the constant bickering we do back and forth. Instead, the spell we put on him was… You know what? I’ll just let you read the story. You’ll soon find out how this little adventure veers off in a direction I never thought it would. We’re not starting in my living room with me drunk; let’s take it back to earlier in the day.
It’s just a bit of hocus pocus, you guys.…
Hollie
I stepped back and smiled as I looked at my handiwork. “Pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself,” I whispered as I let my eyes take in the room.
“Hollie! Oh, my goodness!” a voice said from behind me. “It looks beautiful, sweetheart!”
Turning, I grinned as I saw the host of t he party walk up. Rose Dayton. I’d known her since I was a little girl and had always adored her. The fact that she hired me to set up her fall-themed book club party was an honor. I had dived into this project head-first, full of excitement. Fall was, after all, my favorite time of year. Especially in Salem. And this was Rose, one of my favorite clients. I’d done a number of parties and events for her, so I felt honored that she kept asking me back to plan more. I’d even, though I’d never wanted to admit it to myself, always secretly hoped to see her son, Lucas.
Looking back at my handy work, I sighed. I had poured my heart into this one simply because it had been for Rose. My eyes swept over the room again. On the table was a beautiful yet simple fall centerpiece that featured red apples I had used as little vases with fall flowers in them. Sage and copper greenery were on the table, along with a few books that had candles in small hurricane lamps placed on top of them.
“I’m glad you like it, Rose. It means a lot to me that you’re happy with it all.”
“Like it? I love it, Hollie. How in the world did you do that to the apples? Are those real flowers in there?”
Smiling with pride, I nodded. “They are! Just a simple little trick I use.”
She reached down and picked up the small pinecone that had a slip of paper with a guest’s name handwritten on it in calligraphy. She placed it back down on the sage-colored plates she had bought just for this party. “The placeholder cards are adorable. Everything is so perfect. No wonder you’re the best in Salem. You never fail to outdo yourself.”
I felt my cheeks blush. After working my ass off for the last six years, I had finally made it; I’d become one of the top event planners in Salem. I could do any kind of event asked of me. From newborn showers to retirement parties to everything in between. The City of Salem had even asked me to plan their big Christmas party for their employees this year. I was over the moon excited about that. If I did a good job on it, I was hoping they’d let me do next year’s Salem Witches’ Halloween Ball. My aunt and sister were on board, of course, but I’d never wanted to use my influence to get the job. I wanted my talent to win it for me.
I was best known for my romantic events like surprise engagements or anniversaries. I had to admit, those were my favorites. I was a sucker for a good romance story. Maybe because I was still looking for my own happily ever after.
Rose turned in a circle. Faux trees lined the walkway from the porch to the back patio and were covered in white lights, with Edison lights strung across the large trees in the backyard for when the sun set and the host needed to provide light in the backyard.
In the yard were large beanbag chairs, each with a blanket placed over it, along with the book that Rose’s book club had been reading. In the middle was a fire pit ready to go with a push of a button. Small s’mores kits were also placed on a small table that sat in front of each beanbag, along with a cup that had a small bag of hot chocolate and mini-marshmallows in it. All they would need to do is add hot water.
“In each s’mores kit is a small skewer that opens up for them to roast the marshmallows on. They also have their names on them, and each blanket has the name on it as well so they should be able to find their chairs with no problem,” I said as I walked toward the other seating area in the yard. “You mentioned the gift idea would be left up to me, so I hope you like that.”
“You thought of everything!” Rose gushed. “I love the gifts! How do you come up with such cute ideas?”
Simply smiling, I wanted to say, when I had an open checkbook to work with, I could make anything amazing. And for this job, the hostess was attempting to make her fall book club meeting outshine any other member’s, past or future. I loved Rose to pieces, though. So, when she told me to outshine last year’s book club fall party, I had tried my best. Rose’s husband, Tim, was a doctor in town and sat on the city council. He had given me my first big solo event to plan, and I would forever be grateful to him for it.
“Your guests should be arriving soon, so I’ll get on out of here. Is there anything else you need from me?”
She beamed back at me. “No, everything looks amazing, Hollie. Thank you so much.”
I kissed her cheek and said, “It’s my pleasure.”
As I headed through the courtyard, I slid open the back door and stepped inside Rose’s house. Quickly making my way through the large, historical home, I grabbed my laptop bag and purse and started for the front door. Though everyone knew Rose would not have thrown this altogether herself, I would never stay at the event unless asked to.
Opening the door, I stepped outside and quickly made my way down the steps and sidewalk and to my car that was parked in front of the house.
Just as I went to open the car door, I heard my name and instantly knew who it was. His voice irritated and thrilled me at the same time. More so the latter.
Slowly turning on my heels, I was met by those caramel-colored eyes that made my insides want to melt. I made the mistake of letting my gaze drop to his mouth and nearly moaned when he smiled that crooked smile. And that stupid, stupid, dimple of his. Ugh. It didn’t often come out, but when it did, my lady bits went crazy.
Lucas Dayton.
I drew in a breath and tried my best to not let any emotions show. I was rather good at it since I’d had years of pretending to not like the man whom I had way more naughty dreams about than I cared to admit.
“Hey, Lucas. What brings you by Rose’s house?”
The moment the question was out of my mouth, I wanted to crawl into a hole. Did he really need a reason to be at his own mother’s house?
He laughed. “Well, she is my mother, so there is that.”
I wanted to punch myself but somehow managed to play it off. “I wasn’t aware you were part of her romance book club.”
He froze and I internally fist-pumped. “Shit,” he hissed. “Is that today?”
“Yep. Better get on in there before you miss any of the book talk.”
I turned, opened the door, and was about to slip inside the safety of my car when he grabbed hold of my door and kept me from closing it.
“What brings you here?” he asked.
“If you must know, I helped your mom plan the event and was making sure all the decorations and such were in order.”
He let his gaze move over my face before his eyes met mine. I hated the way I felt, like I wanted to squirm in my own skin when he stared at me like that. I could never read the man, and that drove me crazy because I could read everyone. And when I say that, I mean it. Lucas was the only person whose thoughts eluded me. I could never tell what he was thinking. At times, I swore I could read minds, I was so good at guessing a person’s thoughts. Not with him, though.
“Is there something you needed?” I asked as I tried to keep my voice calm and steady.
He smirked. “Why aren’t you in the book club, Hollie? You don’t like romance books?”
I forced a smile. “I’m not over fifty, Lucas. Therefore, this really isn’t my kind of crowd.”
One brow rose and I knew he was about to say something awful like I acted like a fifty-year-old woman or dressed like one. Something rude would no doubt slip free from those soft and plump-looking lips. I wondered how soft they would feel to anyone he kissed. I jerked my eyes up to his nose.
Do not look at his mouth, Hollie, do not do it.
We continued to just stare at one another, neither of us wanting to be the first to break eye contact and admit some weird defeat.
I wasn’t even sure why Lucas and I bickered back and forth, always tossing insults. I mean, I understood why we did it when we were in school. We were constantly competing against each other for one thing or another. He couldn’t possibly still be bitter because I kicked his ass at nearly everything we went up against each other on. I smiled, thinking back to those days.
A race, boys against girls in first grade, and I had kicked his little five-year-old ass. Then in second grade, it was a contest to see who could throw and make the most baskets on the basketball court. I won that time too. Third grade, it had been another foot race, this time, just between the two of us. I came out victorious in that race as well. Fourth grade, he finally beat me at something and got first place in the science project. Fifth grade went back to me when I won the spelling bee contest. Sixth grade, I took home the best overall student of the year award. It continued like that all through middle and high school. No matter what was on the line, my goal in life was to beat Lucas, and his was the same. I had to win because if I didn’t, he would never let me live it down. And I had worked my ass off to beat him at almost everything. Then came senior year when Lucas and I were both up for valedictorian. It was literally a race to the finish, with Lucas beating me out by .5 points. The bickering grew worse after that, and I thought for sure it would stop when we graduated, became adults. I was wrong. A part of me enjoyed it, though, and I had a feeling he did as well. Except while I kept up my end of the bickering simply to be able to talk to him, he did it because he…well…he didn’t like me. That bothered me more than anything if I’m being honest. It really sucks being in love with a man who doesn’t feel the same way. Hell, who doesn’t even like you. Everyone liked me. Well, almost everyone. There was a small group of people from high school who did not like me or my sister, Sarah. Nathan was different. He was handsome, so all the girls liked him, and was the star quarterback of the football team. Sarah and I… We were labeled weird because of the whole witch history thing and because of Sarah practicing witchcraft with my aunt.
