The Single Witch's Guide to Online Dating: Vanessa Kinley, Witch PI, #0

By Celia Roman

As a busy private investigator working odd hours, I have little time for a social life. My brother Nick aggravated me so much about it, I finally joined an online dating site and put myself out there.

 

Lucky me, one of the first decent guys I meet works as an arson investigator on the south side of the Greater Atlanta area. Our first date goes swimmingly well, until he gets called into work. Someone had attempted to burn down a unit of townhouses under construction in his district, and his expertise was desperately needed.

 

When we arrive on scene, the situation goes from bad to worse: Seth, the alpha of my local werewolf pack, owns the units, and he suspects foul play of the supernatural variety.

 

The only problem? Supernaturals play for keeps, and this one holds a very personal grudge against yours truly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bone Diggers Press
• Release date: Mar 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215033302

Book preview

A Vanessa Kinley, Witch PI Novella

––––––––

Celia Roman

Published by Bone Diggers Press, Clayton, GA.

© 2022, 2023 C.D. Watson. All Rights Reserved.

Cover © Nocturne Art.

v 1.1

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is purely a coincidence. Actual localities and entities are mentioned solely for the purpose of adding realism to the story.

––––––––

Summary of The Single Witch’s Guide to Online Dating:

As a busy private investigator working odd hours, I have little time for a social life. My brother Nick aggravated me so much about it, I finally joined an online dating site and put myself out there.

Lucky me, one of the first decent guys I meet works as an arson investigator on the south side of the Greater Atlanta area. Our first date goes swimmingly well, until he gets called into work. Someone had attempted to burn down a unit of townhouses under construction in his district, and his expertise was desperately needed.

When we arrive on scene, the situation goes from bad to worse: Seth, the alpha of my local werewolf pack, owns the units, and he suspects foul play of the supernatural variety.

The only problem? Supernaturals play for keeps, and this one holds a very personal grudge against yours truly.

More by Celia Roman

Sunshine Walkingstick Series

Hunter

Greenwood Cove

The Deep Wood

Cemetery Hill

Witch Hollow

Devil’s Branch

Vampire Alley

Omnibus (Books 1, 2, and 3)

Kaya Fox Series

A Vision in Death

Vanessa Kinley, Witch PI Series

The Single Witch’s Guide to Online Dating

Between a Witch and a Hard Place

A Witch and Her Familiar

Black Witch Rising

A Witch Called Justice

––––––––

Sign up for my newsletter to receive news, bonus content, exclusive giveaways, and more.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Chapter One

Duncan Seavers was a clean-cut brunette in his early thirties and as human as the next guy. We’d met a week ago, give or take, through an online dating app my brother had pushed on me a few months after I resigned from the Crossville PD and struck out on my own.

Get out, Nick had said. Live a little.

As if our lives weren’t exciting enough. Between Nick’s thriving sports bar and my private investigator business, my brother and I had all the excitement we could handle.

I’d finally gotten up the nerve to actually open my profile to views a couple of weeks ago. Duncan had been one of the first to like it. I’d been so relieved to have an obviously not creepy serial killer see my profile that I’d relaxed enough to message him. Tonight was our first official date. The initial meet didn’t count, apparently, which told anyone interested exactly how much I knew about online dating.

We were at a restaurant in Midtown. Duncan had insisted on picking me up at Kinley’s, Nick’s bar in Crossville, which was well out of his way. I thought it was gentlemanly. Nick, being a man, thought differently.

But I’d never let my brother’s feelings get in the way of my love life before, so I wasn’t going to start now.

During the drive, made in Duncan’s mint ’69 Mustang, we’d discussed our favorite music and movies, the best books we’d ever read, and the Falcons’ chances for making the playoffs this year.

Conclusion? Dismal.

By the time we were seated at the swanky restaurant Duncan had chosen, we were up to our careers, mine as a private detective after a short, interesting stint with the Crossville PD, his as an arson investigator on the south side of Atlanta.

I crossed my ankles under the table like the lady I was pretending to be. What? I’d worn a little black dress and everything, even styled my pink bob into elegant ‘20s-era waves. If you’re going to do something, do it well.

So why arson? I said.

Duncan’s smile was slow and wry and, I had to admit, sexy as hell with that dimple winking in his left cheek. I could give you a line about how I was called to serve, make it sound like something noble, if you’d like.

I snorted out a laugh. Yeah, no. Tell me the truth.

I’m good at it.

How do you get good at something like that? I arched an eyebrow at him. Unless you learned by playing with fire.

Close. I was a firefighter.

That explains the muscles.

His laughter hit a perfect balance between bashful and confident. That explains the devotion.

I hid my reaction to his open sincerity behind a sip of truly excellent wine. Damn, that man was sexy. How so?

Fire is... He paused for a moment and seemed to choose his next words carefully. Dangerous. Wild. It consumes anything it can. Have you ever seen a wildfire eat its way across a forest?

I’d never even heard it spoken of that way. No. Never been that close to a large fire.

You’re lucky. It’s devastating, and when it touches human lives... His eyelids dropped, hiding the bright blue of his eyes, and he rolled the stem of his wineglass between his fingers along the black tablecloth. Let’s just say that when you witness that cost firsthand, you want to do something about it. Fight back.

Fighting fires wasn’t enough. I’d meant it as a question, though it hadn’t come out that way.

No, it wasn’t. His expression cleared and he leveled another bashful grin at me. Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so intense.

Don’t apologize. I know how intense the work can get.

The server came and took our orders, and the conversation turned to lighter fare, some of it things we’d touched on in text messages or during phone calls. His parents, still married, and a sister, a travel writer. My brother and Auntie O, my godmother slash surrogate mom who’d taken me and Nick in when Mom abandoned us nearly twelve years ago.

I shrugged that thought off, burying it behind a polite mask. That wasn’t fodder for this conversation, even if I could share my connections to the supernatural world with a human.

That’s why, out of all