Free A Pint of Beer, a Bag of Chips, and Thou by JL Merrow

A Pint of Beer, a Bag of Chips, and Thou
    By JL Merrow

    Published by JMS Books LLC
    Visit jms-books.com for more information.

    Copyright 2015 JL Merrow
    ISBN 9781611528992
    Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
    Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
    All rights reserved.
    WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your
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    infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be
    prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
    No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced
    in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from
    the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the
    purposes of review.
    This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may
    contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which
    might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store
    your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
    incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination
    and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to
    actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to
    actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
    Published in the United States of America.

    * * * *
If you enjoy this story and would like to read more about
    Liam and Neil, please visit jlmerrow.com/free-reads/ive-got-my-
    love-to-keep-me-warm/ for a short coda set a year later.

    * * * *
A Pint of Beer, a Bag of Chips, and Thou
    By JL Merrow
    I walked into the living room three days before Christmas
    to find the coven was in full swing.
    In case you’re thinking that sounds a bit weird, I should
    maybe mention I was raised by witches. Three of them, which
    anyone who’s read their Macbeth (or their Pratchett, for that
    matter) will know is the only sensible, or even possible, number
    of witches. I grew up with my Mum, my Aunty Des and Aunty
    Mags, all of us living together in the little house in Camden that
    used to belong to my Granny, God rest her. I’m Liam, by the
    way. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m the one solitary
    male in the household, unless you count the cats. And to be
    honest, they’re not as male as they used to be, poor things.
    There is, in fact, a fourth sister, my Aunty Gerry. Rejected
    by the coven on the cruel grounds of numerical superfluity, she
    became an Anglican priest to spite them. Well, that’s how she
    tells it, anyway, although I can’t say I’ve noticed a great deal of
    spite in their relationships.
    “I pray for their souls every night,” Aunty Gerry told me
    piously one evening not so long ago, before collapsing into very
    un-Reverend-like cackles and passing the gin.
    You’re probably wondering exactly what I mean by
    witches. Well, they don’t wear pointy hats, and I’m the only one
    of the family generally seen in head-to-toe black, but don’t let
    that fool you. They have a way of knowing things they’ve no
    business knowing, and although we’re not rich—far from it—still,
    things have a habit of turning out just the way my mum and my
    aunties want them to. We had some unfriendly neighbours, once,
    who seemed to think it their duty to pass judgement on how I live
    my life. You wouldn’t believe the trouble they had with that
    house—pipes bursting, fuses blowing, leaks in the roof, that sort
    of thing. They spent a fortune fixing the place up, and eventually
    sold it at a rock-bottom price to a young family who are as nice
    as you could wish for. And who haven’t had a day’s trouble with

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    the house since they moved in.
    So I learned at an early age which way was widdershins,
    and why it was vital y important to leave a bowl of milk on the
    doorstep at sunset. For the fairy folk, I thought for ages, but it
    turned out it was just for next door’s cat all along. They were
    raising it vegan, and my aunties don’t hold with that. My dad