Page 3 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

"Yes," Dianna hisses, inhaling the scent of her coffee. "Come to me, caffine."

Beverly is, indeed, a powerful witch. She's not the most powerful in town, but she is not a woman to trifle with. I have no idea how old she is, really. She's a great-grandmother in her own right, but you'd never know it to look at her. She's t least four genreations removed from me, but I can't remember exactly when she was born. The years--decades--all seem to blend together some times.

"So, what were you talking about when I came in?" Beverly asks as everyone enjoys their warm coffees on what I assume is a cold day. It is sometime between Thanksgving and Christmas, so it must be cold considering it is winter in New England.

"Parker felt the ghost again," Dianna says.

"Oh? Were you two making out instead of seeing to customers?" Beverly asks.

"What? No," Dianna says, a little too quickly. "Maybe," she eventually admits under her breath.

"Mmmhmm," Beverly says. "Are you really too daft to notice she only does that when you two are doing something you shouldn't?"

"What does the ghost have against love?" Parker asks.

I gasp, hurt. If I could slap him upside the head, I would. The lights in the store flicker. Beverly, Dianna, and Parker all go quiet until the lights stabalize.

"She's not against love," Beverly says with an annoyed sigh. "She's against the two of you making a mockery of her shop."

"Her shop?" Parker asks. "So, you know who the ghost is?"

"I have my theories," she says. "It's the only person who makes sense, based on my research."

"Who is it?" Dianna asks.

"Cora Barnes."

I feel my whole body spark with electricity as she says my name. It has happened before. Whenever someone says my name, I feel...alive. I have often wondered what would happen if she was to say it over and over again.

When I was a young girl, I remember playing Bloody Mary with my friends. We would say the name of Bloody Queen Mary in front of a mirror, willing the angry ghost to appear. It was only foolish nonsense of course. But since I've become a ghost, I wonder... Maybe there was some truth in it after all.

"Cora?" Dianna asks, looking up at the large painting of me that hangs behind the counter. "Her?"

"One and the same."

"What happened to her?"

"She was murdered," Beverly says, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

"Murered?" Parker and Dianna both ask at the same time.

Beverly nods sagely. "By a werewolf."

"Is that why witches and werewolves don't get along?" Parker asks.

"Who says we don't?" Beverly asks.

Parker shrugs. "Just...common knowledge, I guess."

Beverly sniffs. "Well, there's more than one reason to not care for werewolves. Wild, passionate creatures. There's a reason why they often take justice into their own paws."

"Wait a minuite," Dianna interruopts, "didn't you set up Olivia with Adrian? You know, the Mystic Cove pack leader?"

"Well, maybe I did. They aren't all bad. Besides, I can't help it. When two people are right for each other, who am I to stand in the way?"

Dianna and Parker look at each other and then start laughing. Beverly set them up as well. As she had also done for at least half of the happy couples of Mystic Cove. Beverly Barnes--Matchmaker Extrordinaire.

The bell over the shop door rings and in walks Beckett Dawson. My heart, if I had one, almost skips a beat in my chest.

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