Slouch Witch
Contents ( 29)
- Table of Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Other titles by Helen Harper
Table of Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Epilogue
SLOUCH WITCH
BOOK ONE OF THE LAZY GIRL’S GUIDE TO MAGIC TRILOGY
BY
HELEN HARPER
Copyright © 2017 Helen Harper
All rights reserved.
For couch potatoes everywhere.
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
About the Author
Other titles by Helen Harper
Hallowed Order of Magical Enlightenment Hierarchy
First Level
- Neophyte
- Zelator
- Theoricus
- Practicus
- Philosophus
Second Level
- Adeptus Minor
- Adeptus Major
- Adeptus Exemptus
Third Level
- Magister Templi
- Magus
- Ipsissimus
Chapter One
The man didn’t look like much at first glance. Taller than me but weedy, with an oddly bulbous head perched on top of a white, scrawny neck. He was smartly dressed, with a suit and tie, but I should have known better than to assume that clothes maketh the man. I’d had some ridiculously wealthy people in the back of my cab in the past and the most affluent of them looked as if he’d been sleeping rough for three months. Maybe that was why he had such a healthy bank account – because he didn’t waste time on things like shaving or brushing his hair or, um, washing.
Anyway, this man, the one holding a thin arm up to flag me down, looked like a strong gust of wind would blow him over. Judging from his pale skin, he didn’t get outside much. Perhaps he had a fear of strong breezes. Whatever, I figured that one more customer would be good enough to see me through until the end of the week. I hoped, however, that he wasn’t travelling far. I’d kicked people out before for requesting destinations that were going to take hours to reach. Not the done thing, but I have a life too. I’ve got better things to do than spend all of it driving people around and having the same conversations over and over again about their holidays or the weather or the latest goings on in Enchantment over on Channel 5. Not that I dislike my job – far from it – but I don’t live to work. I’m not deranged.
I pulled up at the kerb and he got into the back, sitting directly behind me. ‘Cutteslowe,’ he grunted. Then he glanced at me and did a double take. I get that a lot; for some reason, people always seem to find it surprising that a woman drives a taxi. I have no idea why. It’s not as if it takes a special skill set that I don’t have because of my gender. Having some dangly bits wouldn’t make holding a steering wheel and finding my way around a small city like Oxford any easier. No, my breasts do not impair my ability to drive. And yes, I can park. I’ve heard all the jokes. They’re never funny. Men can be witches and women can be taxi drivers. Big bloody deal.