Days off were terribly rare lately, but this time she'd turned off her phone. She pulled on her jeans and a thick brown knitted jersey and pulled open the curtains. Twenty minutes later Laurel was warmed and clean and the bathroom smelled of her cousin's homemade lavender and thyme soap. She'd done a lot to make this flat habitable, but nothing could ease the July chill of an old flat on the sunless side of Aro Valley, pressed against the damp hillside. She shivered as she stepped out of her dressing gown. She'd been working in the cafe until late last night, and had just finished her coffee and twisted her blue hair up under her shower cap, ready for a hot shower. Any time before ten was too early to expect a witch to interact with the world, in her opinion.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act 1994, no part may be reproduced by any process without the permission of the publisher.Ī catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.
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