Miss Spelled: The Kitchen Witch, #1

By Morgana Best

It's Bewitched meets Murder She Wrote in this delightful cozy mystery.
Amelia Spelled believes in baking it til you make it . . . But when her boyfriend dumps her, her boss fires her, and she's evicted from her rental thanks to one too many cooking mishaps, Amelia finds herself all dressed up with nowhere to dough. Amelia is just about ready to pie for help when a handwritten letter is slipped under her door.
Now she is off to country Australia, where a mysterious house is not the only thing that awaits -- there is also the revelation that her ancestors were witches. But if Amelia thinks she'll have time to process these new developments, she's dead wrong. There is a murder, and she's the number one suspect.
Will Amelia cook up a way to solve the crime? And just what -- or who -- does the dashing man lurking in the shadows want?

Book 1 in a charming paranormal cozy mystery series from USA Today Bestselling author, Morgana Best. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Best Cosy Books
• Release date: Jun 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781925674293

Morgana Best

After surviving a childhood of deadly spiders and venomous snakes in the Australian outback, bestselling author Morgana Best writes cozy mysteries and enjoys thinking of delightful new ways to murder her victims.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Ihugged the fluffy koala I’d snagged at the hospital gift shop as I made my way through the sterile halls of the patient wing. I disliked hospitals. I could count on one hand all the times I had ever set foot in one voluntarily. Nothing good ever came from having to come to a hospital.

I was being silly, of course. I knew Brad was safe and sound. I was a little concerned he hadn’t returned my calls. He had only sent me a text sometime in the early hours of the morning, a text that read ‘Food poisoning!’ followed by several exclamation marks.

I could only assume Brad was overreacting, given his tendency to do so. He was handsome, downright gorgeous. He was the manager at a local men’s clothing store and had modelled for the store’s clothing line on Instagram. The problem was, Brad could be overly dramatic. A simple cold needed bed rest. A lost football match was rigged by the umpire. He got himself uninvited to poker night with some of his male friends whom he deemed to be words I could not repeat.

It was hard to believe someone like Brad would want to date a Plain Jane like I was. I wasn’t exactly a supermodel. Yet for some reason, he’d had eyes for me ever since we had met at a party. He had a charming smile and always seemed to know what he wanted.

Brad had even encouraged me to learn to cook. I wasn’t much into cooking. I was always busy, so it was simpler to buy prepared food and heat it in the microwave. If the package didn’t have microwave instructions, then I didn’t buy it in the first place. It didn’t make sense to spend time over a stove, especially if I could make it in five minutes and not even have to stay in the kitchen. Besides, my attempts at cooking had proven fruitless at best. What’s more, I usually set something on fire.

I frowned and squeezed the stuffed animal as I studied the room numbers. Home cooking couldn’t be all that great if it could land someone in the hospital, I figured. Even if it was just an upset stomach, it was hard to think of Brad in one of these places. Surely he didn’t get stuck in this place over last night’s nachos? Perhaps he ate something after he left my house? I know I hadn’t cooked the chicken for long, but I thought that was a good idea at the time to save the smoke alarms going off again. I’d been pleased it wasn’t another charcoal dinner.

I shook my head and smiled to myself. The fact Brad had been considerate enough not to bother me at work was proof he knew he’d be fine. It was wonderfully kind of him not to insist on me staying at his side, given he knew how much I disliked hospitals.

I sighed when I found Brad’s room number. Finally. I politely knocked on the door and then made my way in. Hi, Brad. How are you doing? I beamed at him. My smile disappeared when he shot me a scathing look.

What are you doing here? he demanded.

I looked at his phone lying beside him. He was apparently keeping an eye on it, so he had, in fact, seen my messages. Why hadn’t he responded?

His lips curled into a sneer. I knew you were thick, but are you really stupid enough not to know when you aren’t wanted?

My jaw fell. I was perplexed. Where in the world had that come from? Was it his medication making him act this way?

You are really something, aren’t you? Brad threw the fluffy koala onto the floor. You almost killed me, you stupid cow!

I blinked, struck mute with shock. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I needed to let him have it. I knew I should not let a man talk to me that way, but my mind was a complete blank. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to control myself.

This only seemed to make him all the more agitated. Oh, don’t act like you’re some innocent victim! You put me in a hospital. I knew you were never going to be a five star chef, but how hard is it to make a bowl of nachos without having to call an ambulance?

Brad, I ate them too, and I’m not sick, I pointed out in desperation. I had never seen this side of him. What in the world was going on?

"Yeah, you didn’t get sick. Just get out of here, he said, as he leant back against his pillow. We’re done."

Done? I whispered.

"Done. Over. Finito, he said in a slow, mocking tone. I only dated you because you’re so plain and desperate that I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about you getting picked up by other men. I don’t need an ugly woman who doesn’t know how to cook. What good are you?"

My mind couldn’t begin to process what I had just heard. I blinked at him as I tried to find the words to say. I wanted to tell him off, call him names, say something witty, anything! Yet my mind was a complete blank.

I couldn’t remember precisely how events unfolded after that. I had a dim memory of pouring a jug of water over his head. I had tried to stuff the koala down his throat, but a nurse rescued him before I got the second paw into his mouth.

Looking back, I felt like an idiot. There were so many small warning signs, little signs so easy to ignore. I never once imagined I would have fallen for such an awful jerk. Why didn’t women have some sort of radar about that sort of thing?

I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to get back to work. I simply wanted to get through the day and then spend the weekend hiding in my apartment with packets of Tim Tams, a huge amount of ice cream, and old movies. Was there a minimum age limit for becoming one of those crazy cat ladies? Cats seemed to be so much better company at the moment. The only problem was that my apartment building did not allow pets.

I was a little relieved there was a big meeting that afternoon. I didn’t know the specifics, only that the higher-ups were making an announcement. That would take my mind off my upsetting break-up with Brad, and I was hopeful it was good news.

Several employees had been pushing for a raise. They were petitioning for a pay rise across the board, to compensate for having to deal with the cursing, insults, threats and other ugly aspects of human behaviour. In the Complaints Department, my colleagues and I spent hours being blamed for customers’ misery.

Perhaps my day would improve and I would get that pay rise. I still needed to pay for a new oven, repainted ceilings, and something to hide the lingering smell of charred fish in my apartment. Last week’s fried fish dinner had been a disaster. My landlord had been far from pleased, and my timing couldn’t have been worse. It happened right after I was three days late paying my rent.

I hurried to take a seat at the back so I could finish composing myself while I was in the meeting. Hopefully, the big announcement today would put everybody in such a good mood that the afternoon of angry and inconvenienced callers would fly by. I needed a good distraction from Brad.

As soon as the meeting began, my hopes for good news were quickly dashed. The management seemed awfully grim and the heads of the Complaints Department looked miserable, nothing at all like people who had just won pay raises for their department. And even stranger, the Head Office supervisors were observing as well. They never came to the Complaints Department.

My stomach clenched with anxiety when one of the managers stepped forward and addressed the crowd. I wasn’t the only apprehensive one. Nervous whispers surrounded me.

I will keep this brief, the man began. He was wearing a too-tight suit and a bland expression. His voice was a monotone. For a moment, I wondered if he had been replaced by a robot. As you all know, there has been much discussion regarding the human resources of the Complaints Department. However, the ongoing debate over hours has been tabled due to a significant shift in structure.

The man paused, and we all looked at each other. He cleared his throat and looked around the room. The Complaints Department is being outsourced to an offshore company, effective immediately. Please clear your desks this afternoon. Payments owed, including those in lieu of notice, will be paid into your accounts within twenty-eight business days.

Just like that, twenty people were without a job. He could have been commenting on the weather or the colour of someone’s shirt. The man continued speaking, but to me, his voice was nothing but a blur. I was fired?

The other employees frantically argued and protested the announcement. I simply turned and went to my cubicle to decide what I needed to take home with me. I stared fixedly at my half-dead cactus. I had thought it was an artificial plant, but then it had wilted.

I had lost my boyfriend and my job in the same day. What were the odds? At least things couldn’t get any worse.

CHAPTER 2

Iwiped my eyes once more and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It had been a long time since I had made it home so early in the day. I had bought Tim Tams and calorie-laden, full-fat ice cream on my way home. I was going to take a long, hot bath, pop something in the microwave, and drown my sorrows in junk food and a collection of old black and white romantic comedies.

Tomorrow I would talk to the landlord about an extension and fire up my résumé on every online job site known to humankind. If I was lucky, I would land something quickly. It didn’t have to be a great job; it just had to keep a roof over my head and the lights on.

I reached my apartment with a sigh of relief, glad to be done with the awful day. I rummaged for my keys and thought with a laugh that with Brad gone, at least I could promise the landlord my cooking days were over.

That was when I glanced down and saw the corner of an envelope sticking out from under the door. I bent over and carefully pried it out so I didn’t rip it. With the way my luck was running, I would have mangled it just by opening the door to get to it. My heart sank when I recognised the landlord’s handwriting.

I unlocked my door with shaking hands, flung it open, and then rushed inside, eager to open the letter and see how bad it was. I threw my handbag onto the nearby coffee table and opened the envelope. It was no doubt the bill for painting the ceilings in the hallway outside my apartment after the smoke damage. I fervently hoped it wasn’t a large bill.

I ripped open the envelope and read the letter. It was not a bill. I read it the second time, and then the third, but that didn’t change the contents of the letter, no matter how badly I willed it so.

‘You have fourteen days from this date to vacate the premises. The reasons include fire hazards, property damage, and repeated complaints by tenants about smoke emanating from your apartment.’

I sank to the floor, the letter in my hands. I could no longer see the letter with the hot tears blurring my vision. I did my best to take a calming breath, but I didn’t have any more calm to spare. I crumpled the paper in my hands and threw it at the door with a cry of frustration.

Why?

Everything was gone, all in one day. I had no home. No job. Not even a boyfriend to lean on.

Everything had been taken from me. Had I done something wrong? Was this some sort of punishment?

As I sobbed, I tried in vain to find a silver lining. Usually, I was a super optimist and could always manage to find a silver lining in anything. But what did I have?

I was alone. My parents had died when I was fourteen. I curled up until my forehead touched my knees and wept. As my wails grew louder, I planted my hands over my mouth so other residents wouldn’t hear me.

I didn’t know how long I sat sobbing on the floor. I straightened myself up and wiped my eyes, sniffling and stretching out my sore joints. I didn’t have any time for a pity party. I needed to clean up and get ready to deal with these problems. I still had an hour or two before Centrelink, Australia’s insufferable and soul-crushing unemployment office, closed. I needed to register for benefits as soon as possible.

I made a mental list of things I needed to do. I couldn’t afford removalists. And unless I found a job fast, I had no proof of income or the bond money for another apartment. The landlord sure wasn’t going to give me a reference or return my bond money.

I was going to have to resign myself to the idea that I could only save the belongings that could fit into the back of my car. If only my old car was a minivan! As it was, I wouldn’t be able to fit much into it. I had been thinking of the environment when I’d bought it, not about moving my belongings in an emergency. Thank goodness I had paid off the car.

I grimaced and started towards the door to reclaim the crumpled paper.

Reviews for Miss Spelled

[fernemysteryreader · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The author provides a Glossary before the start of the cozy noting, This book is written in Aussie! Some Australian spellings and expressions are entirely different from US spellings and expressions. Australian Slang and Terms and Indigenous References are also included.In the space of a few hours, Amelia Spelled's day has been extraordinary and not in a good way. Her boyfriend has dumped her. She's lost her job. Her landlord has sent her an eviction letter with only 14 days' notice. But wait, there's more mail! Life-changing mail like in dreams come true mail.In sorting Unread books on my Kindle, I discovered this title. I'm unsure what prompted my purchase as I have not read any of the author's cozies, and this isn't a sub-genre of my interest. I read the cozy but didn't warm to the characters. I will not continue reading this series.

[spurts-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Well, I'm a sucker for the downtrodden, non-douchebag character getting a windfall and/or HEA. Add in part of the windfall being two precocious cats ... had to check it out eventually.This was a cute story with an unnecessary murder mystery added. I suppose the genre is chicklit paranormal cozy-mystery. Very light on the mystery, the paranormal and the merest spark of romantic interest but no actual romance past opening breakup with douchebag ex. Her being a witch not explored yet in any depth. The mysteries of her aunt, her new cats, new house, being a witch -- all would have been enough mystery without a dead body.I liked the the story and the cast of characters well enough that eventually I might check the next in series out of the library when in the mood. Could have used way more scenes with the cats, of course.I put off reading because of mixed reviews: many liking the book and many screaming to please get an editor. In edition I just read — there were no semicolons where needed. Commas were missing, inserted where not needed and/or flat out misused in some places. I think my mood and the fact that it was a shortish book with mostly simpler writing saved me from DNF'ing over editing issues. That said, I did start noticing and if book had been longer ... At any rate, I started counting semicolons and there either were none or I overlooked.Semicolons = still zero.

[jetangen4571 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

witches, murder-investigation, amateur-sleuth, women-sleuths, pets, humor Read on August 11, 2016From precipitous unemployment, to a very strange house and an inherited business that strikes terror in her heart, Amelia begins her new life in a small town where people think that there are no secrets. Then a man drops dead in her new cake shop under suspicious circumstances. She begins to find out that she has many new friends, but the local police are not among them. Let the sleuthing begin! Add in some hilarious situations, and you have a great cozy read.