I watched from outside the circle of smoke while Rosary added herbs to the cauldron set in the deep fireplace in her business's main room. More sandstone, this time sheathing the climbing hearth to the twelve foot ceiling of the old manor house, now a bed and breakfast.

"Rosary Divine," she said, dark auburn hair a match for her deep red skirt, the flowing pale silk blouse she wore as witchy as they come. "Leader of the Victoria Coven." She tossed a handful of aromatic leaves ...