Hotel Hex by Wisdom, Linda

but held onto their manners. Jazz took stock of the other guests. Sylvie, an ethereal wisp of a woman in her mid-twenties with waist-length silver blonde hair, spray tan, and a barely there dark pink silk dress. Beatrice with high-piled burgundy hair looked dramatic in black silk, and seventyish iron-haired portly Derwood wore what she judged to be a custom-tailored suit he must have purchased on Saville Road. “I understand you claim to be over 700 years old,” Beatrice said, managing to look down her nose at Jazz even though the latter was standing. “How can you prove that?” Jazz’s jaw hurt from her clenching it so hard. “Not easily since birth certificates weren’t issued back then.” Undeterred, Beatrice continued, “Didn’t I see on the news that you lifted some sort of curse on a land developer in Laguna Niguel and yet he ended up seven inches shorter?” She tapped her second chin with her forefinger as she speared the witch with beady eyes. “Banishing the curse merely returned Raymond Carruthers to his original height,” Jazz said, noticing that Sylvie was tapping away on her iPhone. The younger woman frowned. “It went dead!” She glared at Jazz. “Did you do something to my phone? I need to keep my friends updated over the weekend.” “Don’t tell me you believe all that nonsense that she’s a witch?” Beatrice chuckled. “My dear, it’s merely publicity so the Hollywood people will use her services.” It was official. Jazz didn’t like her one bit. “All that online insanity has ruined