The Problem with Magic

By Amanda McCormack

Meet Dar.

Dar hates magic.

Years ago, Dar was dating Joel, a talented magician she met at the beginning of college. But then, Joel told her he was going away to study magic at one of the best training programs in the world. But Dar... well, she just wasn’t going to fit in with that new life. Because she didn’t have magic. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course!

So Joel left her behind.

These days, Dar’s happy. She’s living in her hometown of Salem, Massachusetts in a cute condo with her girlfriend, Gretel. She’s got a normal job planning events for a hotel, she plays softball in the spring, and she can keep any and all magic on the outskirts of her life. It’s been years since Joel left and Dar is happy.

But now Joel’s back. And despite his claims that he’s in town for business and he just came by to say hi, things are going wrong for Dar. And between Joel’s presence and a wedding that’s threatening to burn down her workplace, it looks like magic might be making a permanent return to her life.

The Problem with Magic is 40K words and is Book 1 of the Magic City series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda McCormack
• Release date: Jun 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215931936

Amanda McCormack

Amanda McCormack is a writer, performer, and lifelong Massachusetts resident. In a past life, she was a librarian in both public libraries and private research institutions. This led to a passion for research and writing which, combined with her love of New England’s history and culture, formed the foundation for Enfield Arts.She loves getting lost on the back roads of Massachusetts, chocolate chip cookies, and a good slow-burn romance story. She hates pears and driving in Boston. You can usually find her at home with a cup of coffee in hand and at least three pens stuck in her hair for safekeeping.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I have cheesecake!

Gretel’s musical voice drifted over to me across the small yard, where I was elbow-deep in a patch of dirt that was hopefully going to be an herb garden very soon. All around me were high fences, surrounding our narrow backyard. The two big flower beds came up to my waist level and one was already filled with miniature pine trees and a healthy layer of mulch. But beside me was a wobbly table holding trays of delicate seedlings that were ready to go in the second, empty bed.

I was going to finish this before I went in for dinner, but I was helpless against cheesecake. I knew it and Gretel certainly knew it. So my parsley was going to have to wait in its little plastic container for another day.

I stood up, dusted as much of the dirt off my pants as possible, and looked over to where Gretel was smiling in the doorway. She leaned comfortably against the frame, still in her office clothes of a pencil skirt and a muted blue blouse that accentuated her large, curvy frame. The grin on her face was teasing, affectionate, and nothing short of home to me.

Let me wash my hands, I called over to her.

I’ll bring it out here.

She disappeared into the kitchen while I walked over to the side of our condo, where a small sink was conveniently located among my gardening equipment. I scrubbed thoroughly, accepting I’d never get all the dirt out from under my fingernails. Then I made my way back to where Gretel was setting up more than cheesecake on our comfortable patio table.

The sun was just starting to set, meaning I’d been out here longer than I’d planned to be. But our small yard, with its high wooden fences, just needed so much work. And springtime in Salem, with the blooming flowers and the scent of salt on the breeze? Well, it just called for me to stay outside.

I sat down across from Gretel at the table, realizing then how hungry I was. Thankfully, she had stopped and gotten us both pasta, garlic knots, and a large Caesar salad. The cheesecake sat off to the side, waiting patiently for its turn.

The yard looks great, Gretel said.

Thanks, I replied, taking a forkful of penne alfredo. It’s coming together. I’ve got the herbs over there, I’m thinking strawberries over there…

I trailed off as I pointed into the corner and saw what had to be the ugliest lawn ornament I’d ever seen sitting underneath two potted ferns. It was a child, wearing a little rain slicker and rubber boots. But it was so much more than that. The child looked straight at me, its little painted eyes void yet filled with malice.

Where the hell did he come from? I asked through a mouthful of food, pointing at it with my fork.

Charming, Gretel said with a laugh, rolling her eyes.

Then she turned in the direction I was pointing. Oh, that’s Horace. Do you like him?

I thought she was joking, but then she turned to me and I saw the cheerful expression on her beautiful face. I might hate Horace, but I loved Gretel, so I just said, No, he’s lovely.

Bullshit.

Busted. I started to protest, but Gretel laughed, waving a delicate hand. I know you too well, you can’t lie to me, she said. It’s all over your face, Dar. You hate him.

No, no, he’s fine, I said.

Dar.

I sighed. Fine, I admitted. He’s terrifying.

I think he’s sweet, Gretel said. I found him at one of the little shops on Derby Street.

Derby Street was one of the big tourist centers in Salem, lined with tiny shops full of knick-knacks and magic. Not the genuine kind of magic, of course, though a few of them did a healthy business in that kind of thing underneath the books and tourist junk. But Horace was the exact kind of thing those stores would sell to an unsuspecting tourist. Or to my girlfriend, apparently.

Horace’s chipped smile seemed to grow wider as I looked at him. I suppressed a shudder and turned back to our meal. Enough about Horace, I said. How was your day?

Just another day, Gretel said. Dealing with patients and insurance companies, sometimes at the same time. But it was fine.

Gretel worked as a receptionist in a doctor’s office nearby. She’d been there since before we’d started dating two years ago and was content with her position. Meanwhile, I’d hopped between jobs every six months or so for years. Though I’d finally settled into a position as the assistant to the events coordinator at a local hotel about a year ago. It wasn’t exciting work, but it was interesting enough and paid a decent amount.

Plus, it was ordinary. Even during Halloween in Salem, I wasn’t doing anything more magical than ordering cookies shaped like witches’ hats. It was a simple, ordinary job for an ordinary person like me.

How about you? she asked.

I shrugged, taking another forkful of pasta. Softball practice this afternoon, I said. Getting ready for the season to start. But I spent the morning trying to figure out catering for a wedding that’s happening soon. Their caterer backed out at the last minute and the bride called me, nearly in tears.

Did it work out? Gretel asked.

I nodded, setting down my fork to tie my long, blonde hair back from my face. It had taken hours of negotiations, but I’d finally found an upscale local place that would take the order.

Of course, it was only after I’d finished the order that I’d remembered the way the bride’s eyes had shone with an odd green sheen, just for a second, during our original planning meeting. She had magic of some sort and I didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary these days thinking about magic. Maybe their caterer had felt the same way when they dropped out?

I’d caught myself wondering why she couldn’t use magic to fix the situation, but then remembered magic didn’t work like that.

Magic, as my ex-boyfriend Joel had liked to remind me constantly, was a spark that had to be constantly tended to if you wanted to get the flame going and keep it bright. It was a natural ability, but one that needed to be developed and fed. Without the kindling and support necessary, you might never be able to do more than make a pencil float or catch the last words of someone’s thoughts.

Not that Joel’s thoughts ever involved anyone but himself, of course. But it was a beautiful evening, my garden was coming along, and I was with Gretel, who was an enormous upgrade from Joel. So instead of brooding on the frustrations of the past, I pulled the cheesecake closer to my spot and cut myself a large wedge.

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Magic is real, in case I haven’t made that clear enough. Of course, the Salem witches weren’t actually witches. No, they were ostracized women who were victims of their Puritan community. And magic doesn’t really work the way people think, with witches riding on broomsticks or shooting lightning from their fingers. Very few people are powerful enough to do the last one. Honestly, it’s way less flashy than that. Instead, people’s abilities are like an expanded version of non-magical abilities. Mind-reading is a thing, to an extent. So is the ability to heal humans and animals. And of course, yes, certain powerful people can manipulate energy to shoot magic beams out of their hands. It’s not so common that it is publicly acknowledged, but there is a community built around magic, especially in places like Salem.

I was still thinking about magic when I got in the shower a couple hours later, turning the water up so hot that Gretel was going to roll her eyes when she saw the red blotches on my skin. But the heat felt like heaven as it hit my body, washing away the stress of work and the dirt from the garden.

This was the first year I was able to garden in this apartment and I wanted to make the most of it. Ever since I was a kid, I’d loved gardening. I’d always thought if I was ever going to have magic, it would be something to do with the garden. But it turned out I just didn’t have it in my blood.

Joel’s powers had come in early. We’d been together in college and he’d shown signs of magic long before we’d even met. But it was our freshman year when his abilities really came into their own. At first, I was jealous of the way he could make objects levitate, just a little. Then we’d discovered he could snap and make little sparks appear, just for a second. Then, a few months later, he’d accidentally compelled a classmate to admit he had cheated on a test.

Someone with this many types of magic was rare. I’ve got some people who are very interested in me, Joel had told me proudly one day, drumming his hands on the table in the kitchen of the shitty apartment we’d shared right after college. Very interested. They said there could be a lot of money in this.

Considering Joel hadn’t had a job in four months, I wasn’t about to say no to lots of money. Though the fact that he wouldn’t tell me anything about these people was a little concerning. He’d drop these cryptic hints that there was a wide world of magic, one that was so much better than the boring one we lived in together. And the fact I didn’t have any magic seemed almost embarrassing to him.

I loved him though. He was cute and sweet when he wanted to be. And we’d been together for about eight years by the time he sat me down and told me he was going to take some serious steps with his magic.

My mood darkened as I remembered that moment, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt underneath my fingernail. Joel had made it seem like he was just going to start classes or something. Like magical grad school. He’d strengthen his powers and make a good life for us. I knew to take it with a grain of salt when he said he’d be able to fully support us and any kids we decided to have, that I’d never need to work again once he was done. But I was excited for him.

Still, I didn’t expect him to just completely ditch me the way he did. We still had four months left on our lease when I came home to see him packing a suitcase. He’d apologized, but insisted he needed to go. There was a training course in Britain and it was exactly what he’d been looking for. And now he was leaving and he would absolutely stay in touch.

I’d been a bit of a doormat about everything until that day, but this had been the last straw.

I shut off the shower and stepped out, reaching for my towel to dry myself off. I didn’t think about Joel much, but every so often he sneaked into my thoughts and apparently tonight was one of those nights. The final argument was quick. I’d told him I’d go with him. He said no, it wasn’t a good place for me to be. I wasn’t magical, I wouldn’t understand. Obviously, that had been insulting, but I’d tried to stay calm.

Fine, I’d said finally. Choose. Me or the magic.

I hadn’t been completely confident he’d choose me. But then I’d seen the way his eyes lowered from mine and I’d known his answer before he even said it.