Deegie looked up from her gardening catalogue and into a pair of frightened-looking green eyes. Since she owned the only magical supply shop in Fiddlehead Creek, she often had odd requests from her customers – silver bullets, love spells, graveyard dirt – but this appeal was definitely a first.
“Sorry,” Deegie said, “I don’t do exorcisms. You might want to contact the Catholic Church about that.”
The woman dipped her head and ran a hand over her perfectly coiffed white hair. “No, no, I mean a ghost-busting.” She fumbled for a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that hung from a chain around her neck, put them on, and peered myopically at Deegie. “You do those, don’t you?” Read The Rest Of The Story Here…"Deegie Tibbs And The Bookstore Ghost",