A Bewitching Brew

By Laney Smith

It was a business idea born one Halloween night. A coffee house infused with a little mystical magic – spells, potions, elixirs, and maybe a hex here or there. I would open at odd hours – when the competition was sleeping. Midnight to noon. It was all brilliant and I made the vision a reality. It was working like a charm – and selling for eight dollars a cup, it was a very expensive charm, at that.

It was all so perfect, until rumors started about how I was poisoning my customers.

That's when the devil, himself, found his way into my life. Tucker Ripley! The very best attorney under the sun! Known as the "Prince Charming of the Courtroom," Tucker Ripley was exactly who I needed to defend my reputation. Though he didn't believe in my "work," Tucker assured me that he didn't need to believe in my "magic" to defend me from those who made accusations against me. We had a beautiful partnership – until Tucker's fiancée broke his heart and left him shattered and broken, right on my doorstep.

Just as every man has a price, sooner or later, every man grows desperate. That night – the night she broke his heart, Tucker Ripley grew desperate. He wanted to believe in my magic – he needed to believe in my magic. This time, he wanted something more than his typical café au lait. He wanted a "love potion."

I should've told him the truth right then and there, but I didn't. He needed something to believe in. Tucker Ripley was the fierce, bold guardian of my empire. I couldn't bear to see him crippled and shattered, begging me to save him. So, I did what any "good witch" would do. Now, I'm in serious trouble. The best attorney in the world - my fearless protector - has turned on me and has his sights set on destroying me.

They say lies become the truth. They also say the truth will set you free. I don't care about what they say. I only know I have to find a way to stop Tucker Ripley before it's too late – even if I have to tell him the truth – the whole truth.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiery Vision Publishing
• Release date: Sep 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393085560

Book preview

WHERE TO BEGIN

It was never supposed to fall apart. I had plans for a perfect life made possible by this perfect, infallible plan: a business, unlike any other. Well, sort of.

Any Witch Brew You Choose!

That was the name of my coffee shop. Sure, there were plenty of coffee shops. Mine was different because I didn’t just serve coffee. I served up coffees packed with spells and potions, depending on my clients’ needs; sorcery and ‘white magic’. I even opened for business on Halloween since it was Halloween a year ago that the idea of the shop occurred to me. After a bit, customers came to me if they were ill and I would whip up something special, just for them, to help cure what was ailing them. If someone had a broken heart, I would create a coffee to help them heal. I had women who came to me with infertility issues. Men came to me for erectile dysfunction. Skin issues, allergy issues, headaches, whatever. People believed in me and my ‘magic’, so I was busy. It took a while to build up my clientele, but once they started coming, they started bringing friends. Before I knew it, I was treating so many people for so many different reasons and that was in addition to serving up regular, old coffee. There was just one tiny little problem, one which I had told no one.

I was a phony!

I was not a witch, and I knew nothing about white magic, paganism, herbalism, stone vibrations, or anything else. However, I’d learned enough to fake it. I didn’t believe in anything I was selling, but I enjoyed the fact that my cost for one cup of coffee was usually around seven cents. The menu price was four dollars and ninety-five cents for a regular coffee and seven ninety-five for the ‘special’ brews. Granted, sometimes I had to shell out money to keep up my façade, but even those expenses were minimal. Point is, I’d found a very lucrative idea and all I had to do was play a part. No one ever figured it out. I was quite the actress, a fact no one gave any credit to, I might add. Then, I made one teeny, tiny little err in judgement and my fictitious, magical world came crashing down around me. I accidentally ratted myself out and now, the community which once adored me was ready to burn me at the stake. My life was ruined and I’d done it to myself ... mostly. There was that one client who helped in destroying my mystical illusion.

What a fool I was!

Loyalty! Never assume you have someone’s loyalty. Never assume that unconditional stuff is real. It is never real! I learned that the hard way, thanks to that one client–that one man–Tucker Ripley. Now, so many aspects of my future hung in the balance and I desperately needed Tucker’s help to tip the scales in my favor. The only problem with that was Tucker Ripley was the same man who started up the bitter witch hunt and just so happened to be the very best attorney in the state. Without him, I was screwed, but had no idea how I was going to convince him to forgive me and save me from the hell he’d been bringing down on me. There wasn’t a spell around to get me out of this mess. I wish I’d known who he was the first time he walked into my shop.

GRAND OPENING

It was the stroke of midnight when all Hallows Eve stepped back and turned the stage over to Halloween. I had advertised like mad, letting my community know that I would be happy to serve their coffee beginning at midnight. Open for business! Midnight! Halloween morning. Regular daily hours, midnight to noon. I planned to cover the hours the other guys didn’t. It really was brilliant!

Just before midnight, I stepped out to tie out black and orange balloons to the bike rack the city had bolted to the sidewalk in front of my store. I dragged out my folding sign, announcing my grand opening and offering a few ‘specials’. I ducked back into my shop, my menacing, but mysterious apparel dancing in the night breeze as I walked back inside. For even more spooky ambiance, I lit some of the thick, black, pillar candles and put my crystal ball right next to the register.

Finally, when the clock struck twelve o’clock, I flipped the lock and scampered back behind the counter to await my guests. At twelve-fifteen, I was still waiting. At twelve-thirty ... still waiting. I couldn’t believe people weren’t forming a line outside my door. Who hadn’t craved an open coffee shop in the middle of the night? Surely, I wasn’t the only one.

Finally, just before two o’clock in the morning, a nimble looking man sauntered in.

Are you open?

Yes, sir! Cone on in. What can I get ya?

To be honest, I’m kinda just looking for a restroom. Say, what’re you getting for a cup of coffee in here? the gentleman asked as he pulled out a pocket full of change, mostly pennies. I don’t have much, but if you’d let me use your facilities, I could throw a few bones your way.

I heaved a sigh and flipped my hand through the air. Don’t worry about it. You can use the restroom. No problem.

That was a lie! It was a problem. Especially two hours later when he still had not come out.

Apparently, after phoning the police and requesting they send someone to check the situation, I learned this gentleman was a well-known local transient. Apparently, he used any restroom he could find to bathe, use his drugs, and sleep for a while.

You’re sure you want to operate during these hours? the kind officer asked.

It kind of goes with the image, so, yes. Thank you. I do appreciate your concern. However, if I’m going to sell this dark side of coffee life, I have to be darker than most, I explained. Can I offer you a fresh cup? On the house, of course.