August 23, Friday

WHEN THE sun rose, sending light slanting into my bedroom window, I stretched high and yawned. I'd stayed up all night reading Wayne's manuscript. Surprisingly, after slogging through the first dozen or so terrible pages, it had turned into a very entertaining story of two local witch covens in a blood feud.

And it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he'd based the story on the Benson family and the Whisper family.

One of my first pieces of advice would be to suggest he change the characters enough that he wouldn't be sued.

But meanwhile, it was a wealth of information and insight into the family trees and the feud that had kept them apart before the ill-fated "Chip and Sandy" had defied their relatives and married, only to die tragically.

And to leave behind a daughter named Daisy, who would leave, then return and rise to the top of the coven, only to commit suicide at the graves of her parents.

There were a lot of logistical issues—there were so many characters, I'd lost track of them and how they were related to each other. And the history was a little fuzzy—I was going to suggest opening with a flashback to the Salem witch trials, which was where the two families had allegedly descended, then fled together to the nether regions of Alabama where no one would look for them or suspect them.

It was enough material for three books, but I wasn't sure Wayne would have the patience or the talent to pull off a supernatural trilogy. But the paranormal market was hot, so an editor might take a chance if they liked the premise.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, then padded over to the window and stare out over the peaceful scenery that hid a boiling drama.

And there was one part that disturbed me and I wondered if it were fact or fiction.

Daisy, it seemed, had returned to Alabama not to rise to the rank of Grand High Witch, but because she had been wholly, utterly, and epically in love with a local stone mason.