Never thwart a witch. It never ends well.
When I found out that old man Wilson's property had been sold right out from under me, I was livid. Karmic heinie kickings were high on my priority list right then. Well, if I couldn't stop the sale.
I'd had a long-standing deal with old man Cecil. One that guaranteed me the right to buy the property if and when he decided to let it go. The only problem with our deal was that it was a handshake kind of thing that ended when he up and died on me.
To make matters worse, his daughter--and new owner of said property--hated me. And no, hate wasn't too strong of a word to use.
Unfortunately, it was a little too late by the time I found out to turn things around. The deal was well and truly done. So I collected the hair I needed for my first spell. Also unfortunately, I wasn't all that careful about it. There was a witness to the whole hair-taking incident.
One that knew full well why I'd done what I'd done. Come to find out, sometimes a person's reputation for being a hard-nosed witch could double back and bite them. Orville was all too quick to point that out too.
Of course, it shouldn't have been that big of a deal. I mean, Karma did all the heavy lifting for me. I never had to raise a hand, or shoot, even a finger, against a person.
But when the realtor I'd collected that hair from ended up dead on the property I'd been wanting's doorstep, wouldn't you know a fair few of the townsfolk were looking at me.
Trouble was, I'd never even actually gotten around to doing that spell.