Spells and Fangs: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Stakes and Spells Mysteries, #2

By Lynn Morrison

Solve the murder in seven days or kiss my midlife magical powers goodbye forever.

 

When Baba Yaga says jump, anyone with a brain in her head asks, "How high?"

The answer—very high.

Problem? Murder.

Accused? Innocent Witch.

Midlife vampire to solve the mystery and save the day? Me.

Consequences for failure? Lose my magic.

My thoughts on this? No freaking way.

 

With my cheeky cat familiar, a prickly sidekick, and a sexy werewolf detective to keep me company, I'm in a race against time to save the witch and myself.

 

It's time to pull up my big girl undead panties and solve a murder. With a few spells, a little fang and possibly a date with the werewolf, I'll show Baba Yaga who's boss… or die trying.

 

This paranormal women's fiction cozy mystery will remind why you should never underestimate a midlife woman, especially if she happens to have fangs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marketing Chair Press
• Release date: Oct 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201416317

Lynn Morrison

Lynn Morrison lives in Oxford, England along with her husband, two daughters and two cats. Born and raised in Mississippi, her wanderlust attitude has led her to live in California, Italy, France and the Netherlands. It’s no surprise then that she loves to travel, with a never-ending wishlist of destinations to visit. She is as passionate about reading as she is writing, and can almost always be found with a book in hand. You can find out more about her on her website LynnMorrisonWriter.com. If you want to chat with her directly, join her Facebook group - Lynn Morrison’s Not a Book Club - where she happily talks about books, life and anything else that crosses her mind.

Book preview

1

The leather steering wheel creaked ominously under my tight grip while I searched the highway shoulder for any sign of a roadside assistance phone.

This stretch of Kentucky highways was dry and quiet, which was good given the number of times we’d driven up and down it. The shade trees lining the roadside waved their branches as I drove underneath, looking as though they were cheering on my attempts to find the one thing I needed.

I glanced sideways, casting a narrow gaze at the older woman sitting in the passenger seat. Winifred’s shoulder-length hair was blue-rinsed and permed to within an inch of its life. As a witch, she had the power to appear much younger than her true age. I couldn’t help wondering what possessed her to look like a wrinkled eighty-year-old. My gut said she was doing it to mess with the world at large… and me in particular.

Her garish printed caftan reflected in the window, making my windshield look like a stained-glass window designed while under the influence. It was oddly appropriate, considering if this journey took any longer, I was going to need to be under the influence.

My hopes rose when she squinted, staring off into the distance. But, just like every other time, after a minute, she shook her head and frowned. We’ll just have to go around again, dear.

The answering hiss from the back seat reminded me we weren’t alone. A midnight-colored cat was stretched across the bench seat, his yellow eyes glowing up at me when I checked the rearview mirror. He yawned and pushed himself up on all fours, slinking to the window to see where we were. Is this going to take much longer? I’m wasting away back here. He pawed at his sleek belly. See, my insides are practically sticking together.

Winifred sniffed in annoyance. You’ve been a witch’s familiar long enough to know you can’t rush these things, Aldo. All will be revealed when the time is right, and not a moment before.

I sensed a fight brewing between the pair, and I was certainly not in any mood to referee a wrestling match. I think everyone’s blood sugar is getting low. Let’s stop for a bite to eat before we make another lap.

As I pointed the car towards the next exit ramp, I asked myself again how I’d ended up trapped in a car with a witch crone and a cat familiar, cruising the rolling hills and mountains of the rural Kentucky highways.

The answer was simple. A few weeks earlier, I’d attempted to stop the murder of a witch named Griselda. My best efforts had failed miserably. There was a silver lining, however. My actions had achieved an unexpected result. I’d somehow inherited Griselda’s witch powers and her black cat as my familiar.

There was one big problem. I, Morticia Beaumont, was a four-century-old vampire. And as far as anyone could remember, no vampire had ever gained the ability to wield magic. Until now.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when Baba Yaga, the witches’ regional leader, demanded I present myself for her review. I’d debated ignoring her; after all, it wasn’t as though I owed her any loyalty. But when Winifred, Griselda’s best friend and my new self-appointed mentor, highlighted that Baba Yaga could strip my newfound powers away, I had reconsidered my plans.

Agreeing to pay Baba Yaga a visit turned out to be the easy part. Thanks to the magical protections she had in place, it was practically impossible for an outsider to find her house. Winifred had generously offered to accompany me and Aldo, my new familiar, to make sure we got there in one piece.

I suspected that what Winifred really wanted was a vacation and some entertainment. Either that, or her recollections of how to get to Baba Yaga’s house had been erased by years of hair dye and curling chemicals.

We pulled into a parking space behind the service station. Aldo magicked his door open, disappearing inside the convenience store in search of some canned fish. I slunk around back, looking for a quick bite of my own. As soon as I was sated, we would regroup at the checkout till to settle our bill.

A lone man stood in the shadows, just past the women’s restroom. It didn’t take a genius to guess that he was up to no good. His malignant aura was palpable. His evil eyes lit up when he saw my svelte figure and slinky dress, my dark hair flowing past my shoulders. He was just my type - O positive, if I had to guess. I’d be doing the world a favor when the blood loss knocked him unconscious for the rest of the day.

Taking him down required little effort. I had a wealth of experience at handling men like him. Malcontents and criminals were such easy prey, forever underestimating women like me. And I don’t mean witches or vampires. Humans don’t know we exist.

He saw a prey. I was on him in a flash. By the time the miscreant figured out what was happening, I’d slurped enough of his lifeblood to leave him weak in the knees.

After my light snack, and feeling much more like myself, I headed inside, spotting Winifred’s blue hair bobbing across the store. As usual, she was in the snack aisle, a bag of onion rings in one hand and a dried meat stick in the other.

I know I’m the last person who should judge someone’s food choices, but seriously, Winifred! I reached out a hand, tugging on the plastic-wrapped meat. Couldn’t you eat an apple for a change? Or a turkey sandwich? Last time I had to roll the windows down, and Aldo got caught in a draft, almost flying out.

Despite being half a foot shorter than I was, Winifred somehow managed to look down her nose at me. First off, I asked you to call me Winnie. And second, is that any way to talk to your elders, young lady?

Young? My eyebrows hit my hairline. I’m at least a century older than you are.

Winnie harrumphed, her grip of steel refusing to let go. You’re only a week-old in witch-power terms. Practically a newborn.

My eyes rolled of their own accord, echoing my thoughts. I knew when I was beat. I just couldn’t believe I was losing to a witch, of all people. As I marched up to the counter to pay for everything, I grumbled, Lilith, save me! Could this day get any more ridiculous?

A sharp elbow in my side drew my attention back to the old witch. Her gnarled index finger pointed towards a stack of local papers, the headline screaming something about the murder of the town’s mayor.

Your day could be worse, Morticia. As long as you can still put one foot in front of the other, count yourself as blessed.

I frowned at the newspaper, mulling over her words. She wasn’t wrong, as much as I wanted to disagree with her. My own best friend had walked into the sunlight, despairing that she’d seen and done everything the world offered. After her eternal death, I’d set off on this trip, determined to prove her wrong.

I put the change in my wallet and sighed loudly. Aldo was headed out the door, but turned back to check on me. I waved him on, but not before giving him a grateful smile. Inheriting witch powers certainly wasn’t part of my plans, but I couldn’t deny that they’d made my immortal existence much more interesting.

And that was exactly why I was taking a road trip with a gassy old lady and a grumpy cat. I hadn’t asked to inherit witch magic. But now that I had, I’d do whatever it took to keep my newfound abilities.

2

We’d barely gotten back on the road before a spotlight on a hilltop in the distance caught my eye. That definitely hadn’t been there before. I pushed down on the gas, eager to see if we’d finally located the entrance to Baba Yaga’s lair.

Despite my increase in speed, my destination failed to grow closer. The car engine roared as I urged it up the hills. I was ready to get this meeting over with. The stress of worrying how Baba Yaga would react was wearing on me. I could feel my shoulders creeping higher, and whatever calm I’d felt after feeding evaporated.

The odometer ticked upwards; the miles sliding under the tires. My stress turned to anger. Who was this witch to make demands on my time? What right did she have to judge my fit or my place in this world? Wasn’t that her plan? She wanted to see for herself whether a vampire deserved to join the ranks of her precious witches. As if I’d asked for the powers, or done something to gain them.

They’d been a gift, freely given.

I might be a vampire, but I wasn’t a criminal. I fed exclusively on evil-doers, exacting a cost for their wicked deeds. If Baba Yaga wanted to judge someone, she should turn her attentions on a proper villain. And that wasn’t me.

So why was that darn spotlight still so far away?

My mind was swirling with recriminations and doubts, all tinged red with anger. My eyes glazed over, my body working almost on auto-pilot to keep the car moving. My entire focus was inward.

Winnie broke the silence. Vamp, I swear I could get to Baba Yaga’s office faster on foot!

What do you mean? I exclaimed.

I mean, pressing down on the gas pedal will only get you so far. Your thoughts take care of the rest.

I shook my head, unable to make sense of her words. Can you say that again, but in plain English this time?

She gave me a pointed look. Have a look around, dear. We’ve gone from rolling hills to mountain cliffs, and that spotlight in the distance is growing smaller, not larger. That we can see the spotlight assures me we are on the right path. But something is clearly standing in our way. Baba Yaga has protections aplenty. Chief among them is a test of intentions. She shifted in her seat, stretching out the seatbelt so she could angle my direction. Is something bothering you?

Of course, something is bothering me, I huffed, feeling somewhat better for having put a voice to my concern. Better, but far from perfect. I hate going into a situation blind. It sits right up there with powerful creatures expecting me to kowtow to their demands. This brief side trip is pressing all my buttons.

Black fur brushed against my arm as Aldo leapt onto the armrest and climbed into my lap. His purrs soothed my frayed nerves, offering comfort. I absentmindedly stroked his head with a hand, the other still firm on the steering wheel. Would Baba Yaga make me give up Aldo as well?

Tell me about this Baba Yaga of yours, I instructed, needing to know more about this being I was to face.

Winnie settled against the door, still facing me. For starters, Baba Yaga is a title, not a specific person. Any witch powerful enough may lay claim to using it. Griselda could have done so, actually.

That caught me off guard. Why didn’t she?

Aldo piped up with the answer. She had no appetite for it.

For what? Fighting to claim the title? Facing challengers? I

Reviews for Spells and Fangs

[Kelsey · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Mixing Vampires and Witches to make a vampire witch? Amazing! Especially, when you add a sexy shape shifter and a mystery.