Who Pissed Off Ivy Dell? (IVYDELL #3) by Indie Sparks EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Indie Sparks
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
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- Size: 2 MB
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Ivy
The Work of a Wizard
I’M NO EXPERT ON signs or omens, but I feel like finding a dead bird on
your doorstep probably doesn’t mean anything good. It’s such a small bird,
too. Is it a sparrow? Oh, please don’t let it be a sparrow. Shit, this feels
personal. Intentional. Who have I crossed? And who in Ivydell would
sacrifice a sparrow just to prove a point?
Don’t be an idiot. An animal did this. Probably that badger you scared off
your back patio. Vengeful fucker.
I nudge it with the toe of my shoe to be sure it’s dead. Oh, yeah, this frail
little birdie has flown for the last time. There’s a wound in its side, but its
filthy feathers prove it didn’t go down without a struggle.
Wait a minute. Those feathers don’t look real. It’s a . . . it’s a toy? Like, a
cat toy? It’s lifelike from a distance, but I don’t think it was ever alive. I toe it
again to flip it over. Definitely a cat toy. Real birds don’t have tiny bells
inside them. Not usually. But where would a cat have come from?
Myrna steps out of her casita and waves from across the street. “Morning,
doll! Whatcha studying over there?”
“I thought it was a dead bird, but I think it’s just a cat toy.”
“Ah, Wizard left you a present.”
“A wizard?”
“April’s cat. Have you met April yet?”
“No.”
“Well, then it makes sense that you haven’t met Wizard either. You had
coffee this morning?”
I shake my head and start walking toward her place, stepping over the gift
from Wizard. Making coffee is normally high on my morning priorities, but I
thought I heard thunder when I came out of the bathroom, so instead of going
to the kitchen, I stepped outside to look at the sky, and then I got sidetracked
by the dead cat toy, and now my whole day is off to a weird start.
At home, I’d never leave my house looking like I’d just stumbled out of
bed. But this is Ivydell, and I do a lot of things differently here. I’m different
here.
Me and my bedhead cross the dirt road to Myrna’s. She hugs me like she
always does, her head barely coming to my shoulder. Unlike me, she doesn’t
have a hair out of place. Her sleek, platinum hair swings over her shoulders as
she goes up and down the stepstool she uses to reach the cups in her cabinet.
Physically, she needs a boost, but her personality takes up space. Her voice,
too.
“Who would let their cat wander around outside here?” I ask. “A hawk
could carry it off.”
“That hawk would have to be on steroids,” she says, bringing our full cups
to her small table. “Wizard is a Maine Coon. Purebred. Big guy.”
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