Layla looked around the circle to her three best friends toasting her in her new business. A psychic palm and tarot card reading shop. Her dad nearly had a stroke over it. He'd been grooming her as the heir to his company. This psychic business came out of left field. And was partly to blame. She should have told him she wasn't interested in taking over as CEO in the family construction equipment-leasing company.
Besides she couldn't go up to her very black father who was paying her college tuition to tell him she wanted to tell people's fortunes for a living. Layla could only imagine her mother's reaction if her parents were still together and if she cared. It would've been all head rolling, finger pointing and 'you got psychic reading money.'
Thank god for small wonders that her mother's reaction was only slightly the lesser evil. Her dad would've either stop paying for her school or take her to the first reputable psychiatrist he found to talk out whatever issue she had that was clouding her judgement.
Layla mentally rolled her eyes. She loved her father but he had trouble accepting simple explanations. Everything had a deeper motive. A deeper reason.
He would never understand how she'd been drawn to the psychic world ever since she was little. How that connection grew stronger and deeper over the years. They'd been stories, myths on how the Blythe family used to be magic practitioners. Her father used to tell her they were nothing but silly stories to scare children.
So much for silly stories.
"Thank you guys. I'm so glad you're here to support me."
"Of course we would," said Jenna. Tall and lythe, as the shortest one in the group Jenna made Layla feel like she was standing next to a beanstalk. "I'll support you in anything that'll result in clear and balanced chakras."
"Besides, us mystics, paranormals, psychics, freaks, whatever they want to call us, need to stick together." Bea flung her long honey brown locks off her shoulder, poured more champagne to all their classes, raised her glass up high and yelled, "Blessed are the freaks!"
They all repeated the phrase and drank.
Felicite' cleared her throat and quirked a smile at Bea. "You do know that's a quote from Jacob Nordby for writers, creative types right?"
"Pfft," replied Bea as she made her way to Layla's table and sploshed down into the wooden chair. "It could still be used either way. Besides some writers have written prophesied books. Look at Atwood."
Layla's mouth twitched.
"All right fortune teller girl!" Bea crooked her finger and nodded towards the seat across the table in front of her. "Come do your thing and tell me if I'll be getting some any time soon. In fact come foretell if all of us will experience the kind of bliss you'd get with a nice big cock inside you."
YOU ARE READING
A collection of four erotic paranormal romance novellas where four friends, two fortune tellers, an empath and yogi, and a psychic travel the murky waters of love with black girl magic.: Layla been in love with her best friend's older brother for se...