Carlotta

The air in the occult shop didn’t smell like dried sage and ancient dust, the way it did in the movies. It smelled distinctly of vanilla bean, expensive perfume, and just a hint of ozone. Then again, Carlotta wasn't your average neighborhood clairvoyant. She was lounging behind the counter of Arcana & Accoutrements, looking like a Renaissance painting that had been updated for a modern fantasy novel. She possessed a mane of glossy, voluminous auburn fur that caught the amber light of the halogen lamps, soft, twitching fox-like ears that pinned back playfully whenever she tilted her head, and a tail with a ridiculously fluffy white tip that draped lazily over the back of her velvet stool. She was, objectively speaking, distractingly attractive.