4 Witching On A Star Read Online Free

wanted?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Brian ran a hand through his blond hair haphazardly. “I have a new idea.”
    Oh, good. Brian was always coming up with ideas for the paper. Most of them weren’t feasible in this area. “What’s that?”
    “We’re expanding,” Brian announced happily.
    “Expanding how?”
    “We’re going to start printing three times a week. Isn’t that a great idea?”
    That was a terrible idea. “There’s not enough news in Hemlock Cove to put out three editions a week.” Not to mention there were only two full-time employees and two part-time employees to handle all these new editions.
    “Oh, I think you’re wrong there,” Brian said. “This town is happening lately. There have been murders and drug kingpins. It’s just as busy as Detroit.”
    Not exactly. “Those were isolated incidents,” I reminded him. “We’ve had three big stories and nothing else. It’s been quiet for months.”
    Brian frowned. “Why are you trying to talk me out of this? I thought you would be excited to be the editor of a real newspaper?”
    “Brian, I don’t want to diminish your dreams,” I said carefully. “But, in a normal week, we don’t have enough news to fill one edition. Last week, the top story was a feature on the stables changing the feed for the horses.”
    Brian waved off my statement. “It was just a down week.”
    “The week before I wrote about the fact that it was spring. That was it. That it was spring.”
    “So? People liked that story.”
    I decided to try a different tactic. “News print is expensive. How can you justify two more editions of the newspaper and no more news?”
    “The ads will make up for it,” Brian said.
    “We don’t exactly have an expanding ad base,” I reminded him, the arrival of the Dragonfly Inn notwithstanding.
    “But we’re always full of ads,” Brian countered.
    “Once a week, yes,” I said. “However, the paper is really just printed for the tourists and that’s why we get ads once a week. Why would the local businesses, which have a captive audience with the tourists, place ads more than once a week?”
    “Why wouldn’t they?” Brian had no idea how a newspaper actually worked, especially one like The Whistler. That much was obvious.
    “Good luck,” I said finally. I figured that the minute he actually got someone in here to tell him how much this was going to cost he would change his mind. I was done trying to make him see reason. It always proved to be fruitless. He had to learn things on his own.
    “Now that’s what I want to hear,” Brian said with a bright smile as he turned to leave my office. “I’ll keep you updated as things move forward.”
    “I can’t wait.”

Three
    After a couple hours of work, I decided to join Clove and Thistle for lunch. As I made my way down Main Street, I couldn’t help but relish the feel of the sun on my face and the warmth on my skin. The days were still only topping out in the fifties, but that was a marked improvement on the bitter winter we had just survived.
    As a denizen of northern Lower Michigan, I was used to snow. This past winter, though, had been brutal beyond belief. Not only had we set snowfall records, we had also set low temperature records – on almost a weekly basis. This spring had been more welcome than a steaming bowl of my mother’s homemade stew.
    Downtown Hemlock Cove is as quaint as they come. We’re talking cobblestone streets and kitschy businesses that cater specifically to tourists. We’ve got a livery, a bakery, a hardware store and a pewter unicorn store. There’s also a new corner store, featuring homemade quilts and afghans, and a new pizzeria that made some of the best pizza I had ever had the pleasure of eating.
    My favorite store on the main drag, though, is the local magic store, Hypnotic. Thistle and Clove had opened the store while I had been down in Detroit. Now it was a thriving business, and one of the main tourist destinations in Hemlock Cove. I