Witchy Bakery Collection: Books 1-3

By Naomi Muse

Meet Nova Bell, a small town witch that finds herself running a bakery in New England. With murders at every turn, she's lucky to have her dog Angelo around to help her. If only the chief of police was one her side. 

Check out the collection today!

Book 1: Cupcakes, Cauldrons, and Cadavers

Tired of living her life in the broom closet, Nova Bell left her old life behind. She's hoping that life in the charming town of Temperance, RI will let her live out her witchy ways in peace. Life was great until a man turned up dead at her favorite bakery.
Now, she has nowhere to satisfy her sweet tooth and a cupcake might be the culprit! The local police are getting nowhere. Nova has no choice but to dust off her cauldron and solve the case. With her brave dog by her side, Nova is willing to risk it all to reopen the Bewitching Bakery.

Book 2: Honey Buns, Hexes, and Hanging

Nova Bell is settling into her new life as a bakery owner in a small town. Her attempts at baking lead a lot to be desired. She thought hiring a new baker would be easy until one of the bakers turns up dead!
Now, Nova has to solve the murder and find a replacement. With sinister men on the loose, and a secret baking community of organized crime, will Nova ever get her hands on any sweet honey buns?

Book 3: Ganache, Goblins, and Gunshots

Once the bakery settled down, Nova thought her life would be too. With a new baker on staff and Chief Rowan finally starting to trust her, things were looking up. But, nothing was ever easy in Temperance, RI.
When his nephew is killed, local bar owner, Nico, turns to her for help. Nova can't turn him away. Her trusty dog Angelo, wouldn't let her even if she wanted to. Can they find the killer, investigate the curse on the local cops, and get the chief his ganache?

And a bonus short!: The Frosting Incident

Discover exactly why Nova isn't allowed in the kitchen!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Naomi Muse
• Release date: Oct 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9798201812157

Naomi Muse

Hello Musers, I’m Naomi Muse. I see the world through magically tinted glasses. You may know them as shades, I just like to look fancy. I seek magic in everyday situations, which is why I write urban fantasy and science fiction. I believe people can overcome anything, including monsters and aliens. When I need guidance, I turn to spirituality and tarot. Sometimes, tarot even prompts a story. Join me on this wild ride through my imagination. If you want to get in contact with me (I’m friendly I promise) you can find me in the following places: My Website: http://www.catchamuse.com Twitter: http://twitter.com/catchamuse Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/catchamuse Facebook: http://facebook.com/catchamuse Instagram: http://instagram.com/catchnaomi I hope to hear from you soon! Naomi

Book preview

Chapter One

It was time to leave Nevada behind. I had a good run in Vegas, but I was more than ready to leave the dry, arid desert behind. I lived there for the better part of a decade, and I was ready for a change of scenery.

I had been living in Vegas peacefully for two years, but the peace didn’t last. Once the locals found out I was a witch, they slowly ostracized me.

The shunning wasn’t anything overt. There were no crowds waving pitchforks and torches, no one following me or bothering me at home. But the social invitations quietly disappeared. I started to get dirty looks in casinos and at the grocery stores. More than once, someone I considered a friend crossed the street to keep from speaking to me. It stung, but I couldn’t dwell on it. I just took the hint finally to move on down the road.

With all the gambling and debauchery, you would think that being a witch wouldn’t be a big deal. At least that’s what I thought when I first came to Vegas. In the end, moving was easier than trying to reason with them.

I wasn't organized enough to have a set plan for my relocation. I just wanted somewhere new and preferably somewhere with a climate that was better for my skin. The desert air does me no good, and there are not enough spells in the world to fix it. I swear I spent all of my money on hydrating sheet masks and fancy face creams.

Never one to be decisive, I let my pendulum make the choice for me. I always wore my pendulum around my neck on a silver chain. Most people never noticed it because it looked like a pendant. I liked to keep it close, and its energy was keyed to me only.

I packed all of my belongings in record time because there just wasn't much to pack. I never was one to stay in any place for very long, so I had learned to travel light.

I stopped at a local gas station to grab some road snacks and pick up a map. To be honest, I was surprised that they still sold paper maps anymore.

Nova Bell, if I didn't know any better, I would think that you were leaving town, the man behind the gas station counter said.

Well, Artie, it looks like your prayers have been answered, I replied.

I would be more than happy for you to stay if you would just marry me, Artie said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I might be willing to do that if you weren’t at least forty years older than me and already married.

We can run away together right now.

You better not be flirting with that woman again, Artie, his wife shouted from the back room.

I think she’s on to us, I said with a laugh. I should get going, anyway.

Artie reached across the counter and gently grabbed my hands.

I don’t know if you’re a witch like my wife says, but I do know that you’re a sweet girl. You be careful, Artie said with a genuine look of concern.

That warmed my witchy heart. Since the first time I stepped into his store, Artie was always worrying about me. He was one of the few good people I’ve met in my life.

I will. You watch out for the wife, I replied, with a smile.

Artie laughed as I headed out the door.

I laid the map on the hood of my small red hatchback and took off my pendulum. I held the crystal over the center of the map and took a deep breath. As I focused my intention, the pendulum began to sway slowly. I wanted to go someplace where I could see snow, but I didn’t want to force the issue. Alaska seemed like a lovely place, but that would be way too much snow for me. Not to mention the scary wildlife. Instead, I focused on going somewhere that I would be needed.

After crisscrossing the map a few times, the pendulum settled on New England. I had never been there. Leaning closer, I saw that it was pointing to Temperance, RI. That was oddly specific, and I felt the point pull down on the town’s name. When I moved to Nevada, the crystal just circled the state. I had to drive around for days until I felt a firm pull.

I didn’t know much about Rhode Island at all. I knew it was one of the first states settled, but that was about it. I had never heard of Temperance, not that it mattered. If that was where the pendulum pointed, that’s where I was going.

I looked around to make sure that no one was watching me. Once I was sure that the coast was clear, I took out my small travel altar. I knew I shouldn’t care about being seen, since everyone already knew that I was a witch. But I could still feel the sting of rejection. I wanted to make it out of Vegas without causing a scene.

I spread the contents of my altar case on my map. I turned on the battery-operated candle, cast a protective circle, and said a quick spell for clear blue skies for my drive. A bit of good weather never hurt anyone.

When my spell was complete, I closed the circle of protection. It was time to hit the road.

Over the course of the drive, I watched the landscape gradually change from stark brown to a lush green. With every mile, the air seemed to get lighter. Something or someone was definitely drawing me east. My grandmother always said I was drawn to trouble. But I hoped that she was wrong this time.

Chapter Two

In a week’s time, I made it to Rhode Island. Thankfully, the solitary drive was uneventful, but the views were nice. By the time I reached Temperance, I never wanted to sit in a car again.

The town of Temperance was small. Smaller than small. It was the tiniest town that I had ever set foot in. It did seem fitting somehow, since Rhode Island was the smallest state in the country. Even though the town was quaint, I looked around and saw it was still diverse, which was a relief. The capitol city was nearby, so there was a good mix of people moving in and out. One more new arrival in town would not cause much of a local stir.

Being just one state away from Salem, I hoped that the townspeople would be more accepting of my lifestyle. I refused to hide who I was. I wouldn’t zoom around on a broom, but I wouldn’t lie. Maybe I would even make a few new friends. Only time would tell.

I found a charming little bed and breakfast at the center of town. The owners seemed warm and welcoming to visitors. I spent my first few days walking through town and getting the lay of the land. It seemed to me that I wouldn’t have to drive much, unless I was leaving town or doing some heavy shopping.

Luckily, I found a place fairly quickly. There was sweet little one-bedroom cottage for rent on the edge of town. It was affordable enough that I could live comfortably for a few months with no job. Thankfully, it was fully furnished too, so my lack of possessions didn’t get in the way.

I settled into a routine in town right away. Every day, I visited a charming little bakery in town. It was called the Bewitching Bakery. It was run by a husband and wife team, the Quinns. They were just the sweetest things, if you could call their constant bickering sweet. It was obvious that it was just good-natured ribbing without any malice.

Every item I ate in the bakery was better than the last. I knew that if I kept this up, I would gain twenty pounds before the month was out. I didn’t care, I would just buy more leggings. I convinced myself that it would be a good place to meet locals and take in the scenery.

I was more than a regular. I hung around the bakery so much that the owners eventually offered me a job. I had no real desire to work in a bakery. I could barely boil water, let alone bake. I was all set to decline their offer, but then they mentioned the employee discount. Visions of bakery treats danced in my head.

I could actually save some of the money that I had been blowing on sweets. I might even be able to keep my new place longer than expected. They weren’t able to pay me much. But I would have considered it a win if they paid me in frosting at this point.

They didn’t trust me to do much, aside from serving coffee, tea, and work the cash register. We all understood it was for the best and my feelings weren’t hurt. There was a frosting incident that we are no longer allowed to discuss on company property.

One night, business was slow, so I decided to take a brownie break. I was heading to a table when I noticed someone asleep in the back booth. I smiled. Baked goods had the same effect on me, sleepy bliss. He had been there for a while, and I couldn't remember serving him. The man must have arrived before my shift started.

Mrs. Quinn, looks like someone back there needs a little more of your coffee.

Oh really, let me go see if I can get him going, Mrs. Quinn replied, with a chuckle.

She wiped her hands off on her apron and came out from around the counter with a fresh pot of coffee. She headed to the back of the bakery and began talking to the customer. When he didn’t respond, she set the pot down and nudged his shoulder. He slumped over in his seat. A half-eaten lemon cupcake with blueberry frosting he had been holding fell out of his hand and rolled away from him.

Mrs. Quinn began backing away, nearly stumbling over the other tables and chairs in the dining area. She let out a strangled scream. I just knew where this was headed. I rushed over to her and caught her just as she fainted. She almost took us both down, but I managed to lay her carefully on the ground.

Mr. Quinn came rushing from the kitchen.

Heather, what happened? he demanded.

She's ok, she just fainted. I'll take care of her. You call 911.

Why? You said she fainted? I don’t understand, he said.

She’s fine, but he’s not, I said, pointing towards the dead guy.

Mr. Quinn looked over at the body and went pale. He didn't say another word and hurried back to the counter to call the police.

I was at a loss with his wife. Calling her name and shaking her wasn’t working. There was nothing even remotely resembling smelling salts in this place. Inspiration struck. I ran over to the coffee grinder, reached in, and grabbed a handful of fresh beans. I hurried back and waved them under Mrs. Quinn’s nose.

She began to stir.

I hope you didn’t put your bare hands in my coffee beans. I would hate to have to throw them all away, she said, as she regained consciousness.

Wouldn’t dream of it. How are you feeling? I asked.

I feel terrible. There is a dead man in my bakery, she retorted.

Mrs. Quinn slowly sat up, looked in the direction of the man, and shuddered. I helped her to her feet, and she headed straight to the counter and began making herself a cup of tea. Her hands were shaking so badly that I thought she would burn herself. She swatted my hands away when I came over and attempted to help.

Mr. Quinn rushed to her, tears of relief streaming down his face.

Heather, I thought I lost you, he said.

I would never let you collect on my life insurance, she replied, pulling him close.

Evil never dies, he said lovingly before he kissed her.

I turned away, embarrassed by their obvious affection. It made me incredibly aware of just how alone I was.

I heard the sirens approaching in the distance. One of the benefits of living in a small town was that help was never far away. The Quinns were still embracing, so I went outside to wait for the police.

Chapter Three

The crisp fall air greeted me as soon as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was too dark to see the colors of the fall leaves, but I could hear them rustling in the wind. I always liked the wind. When it brushed over my body, it felt cleansing, and I needed that now. I knew somehow, I was going to be more than a little bit involved in the case of the killer cupcake.

I was only outside for a few minutes when the police cruiser arrived with lights flashing, but no sirens now. Chief Rowan stepped out. I had seen him in passing, but he was much more handsome up close. He was about six feet tall with broad, linebacker shoulders. He stepped under the glow of the streetlight, and I could see that his bronze skin was a stark contrast to the white teeth he was flashing as he spoke to me.

Oh crap, he was talking to me, and I was standing there gaping at him.

I’m sorry, what did you say? I asked.

Are you in shock, miss?

Nova. Nova Bell. No, I’m not in shock. Well maybe, just a little. There is a dead guy in the bakery. I replied, nodding my head in that direction.

That’s why I’m here. I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before, he said, trying not to look at me as if I had a screw loose. He was failing miserably.

I try to stay out of trouble, I said sheepishly.

I don’t know why, but I felt like I had already done something wrong.

He walked around me and opened the door to the bakery, motioning for me to step inside. Closing the door gently, he followed me into the bakery.

Tell me what you saw, he said.

Nothing. I was getting my nightly sweet when I noticed a man asleep at the table. I thought he was asleep, anyway.

Around what time did you sell him the cupcake?

I didn’t. I assumed that he was here before my shift started.

Did you notice him when you came in?

No, not really, I was more focused on the goodies in the bakery case.

What were you doing here?

I work here. I even come in on my nights off sometimes.

Interesting. Have you ever noticed him in here before?

Not that I can recall, but I have a one-track mind when it comes to baked goods.

I can't say that I blame you for that. Let me take a look at the victim, the chief said, walking over to the body.

Mr. and Mrs. Quinn were sitting on the other side of the bakery, quietly sipping tea and trying not to look in the direction of the body.