Mystic Mischief

By A. E. Chewning

Aurora Adams is an enigmatic forty something year old living in the small Southern town of Briarwood, Georgia. She owns a quaint bakery, Mystic Muffins Bakery, where her magical pastries have become well-known and beloved around town - yet what few people know is that Aurora Adams is a witch. But when the Mayor is found dead and she suddenly becomes the town's prime suspect, everything changes.

 

Can Aurora clear her name while keeping her supernatural abilities hidden?

 

Follow her suspenseful journey to discover the truth in this spellbinding novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. E. Chewning
• Release date: Sep 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223787655

A. E. Chewning

Author, actress and adventure seeker A. E. Chewning combines her love of history and the paranormal within the pages of her books. Her writing career began with the launch of her trilogy, The Hidden Curse, in 2020. She has since published two novels in her series, Magnolia and a novella in her most recent series the Society of the Supernatural.  A. E. Chewning has written articles and was featured in both Southern Woman magazine and Book Brush, an online publication.  Her other projects include a collaboration with friend and fellow author M.L. Bullock in their popular series Devecheaux Antiques and Haunted Things. ​The seeds for her passion of storytelling and reading were planted while she was a child, when her mother spent many nights reading wonderful tales of adventure to her. As an adult, she found herself immersed in the world of storytelling again by performing as a hula dancer in Hawaii and then as an actor in roles in both theatre and television. The paranormal experiences she had throughout childhood in Mobile, Alabama created an insatiable curiosity to continue to explore the unexplained as an adult. Today, she is involved with two paranormal investigation teams and has had the privilege to investigate haunted locations in both Alabama and Tennessee. Currently living in Athens, Alabama and still happily surrounded by history–and the many spirits of the past–A.E. Chewning has all the inspiration she needs to tell her stories and give life to the people time has forgotten. ​Follow A. E. Chewning on: Facebook: www.facebook.com/aechewningauthor or Instagram: @aechewning_author.

Book preview

Chapter One - Aurora

A SOFT ORANGE GLOW bathed the kitchen of Mystic Muffin Bakery as I began my day, long before the first rooster's crow. The familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled the air, a comforting reminder of the generations that came before me.

My great-great-grandmother had opened this very bakery when our family first settled in Briarwood, and it had been passed down through the women in our family ever since.

Each owner added her own touch – a secret ingredient here, an enchanted twist there – but our commitment to crafting the finest pastries in town remained unwavering. I rolled up my sleeves and tied my apron around my waist, the weight of tradition settling upon my shoulders.

There was a certain magic in these early hours when the world was still asleep, and it was just me and the flour-covered countertops, the rhythmic dance of kneading dough, and the quiet hum of the ovens. It was during these moments that I felt the strongest connection to my ancestors, their whispered guidance echoing through the kitchen.

They were with me in spirit, their love and wisdom woven into every pastry I created. I could feel my mother’s presence all around me when I baked. The scents that filled the bakery reminded me of her and our time together.

Alright, let's get started, I murmured to myself as I prepped the ingredients for the day: fresh eggs from the farmer's market, butter churned by old Mrs. Whittaker, and the ripest fruits from local orchards. I took care to select only the best, knowing that each component played a vital role in the overall flavor and quality of my baked goods.

I mixed together the batter for my famous blueberry muffins, remembering back to the countless mornings spent at my mother's side, watching her expert hands work their magic.

She had taught me so much about the art of baking – not just the techniques, but the heart and soul that went into every creation. It was a gift, she said, passed down from the women in our family – a gift that connected us to our roots and the land we called home.

Mom would be proud, I thought, pouring the batter into muffin tins with practiced ease. The familiar ache in my chest flared briefly, but I pushed it aside. I stepped back to admire the day's creations: rows of buttery croissants, trays of fluffy scones, and decadent chocolate eclairs glistening with fresh glaze. Each one a testament to my devotion and the legacy my family had built within this town.

Another day, another batch of happiness, I said softly, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

Let's make today a good one, shall we? I began the final touches on a batch of raspberry macarons, and felt the familiar warmth in my fingertips. The magic stirred within me, like a soft, secret whisper that only I could hear. With a subtle flick of my wrist, I infused the delicate cookies with an extra dose of sweetness and comfort. It was a small enchantment, one that would go unnoticed by most, but would bring a moment of happiness to whoever tasted it.

Morning, Aurora, called out Mayor Montgomery, stepping into Mystic Bakery with his usual air of authority. The bell above the door jingled merrily, announcing his arrival, Got any of those bourbon pecan tarts today?

Sure do, Mayor, I replied with a warm smile, carefully arranging the enchanted macarons in the display case. Made them just for you.

Ah, you always know how to make my day, Aurora, he said, his eyes lighting up as he took a bite of the flaky pastry. Mm, delicious, as always.

Thank you, I responded, the corners of my eyes crinkling with genuine affection, I'm glad you enjoy them.

The bakery door swung open again, this time admitting Miss Marjorie – a sweet, elderly lady who'd lived in Briarwood her entire life. Like clockwork, she came in every morning for her cup of chamomile tea and a lemon square. Good morning, dear, she greeted me, her voice frail but warm. I don't know what I'd do without your delicious treats to start my day.

Morning, Miss Marjorie, I said, handing her a neatly wrapped lemon square, It's always a pleasure to see you.

Thank you, dear, she replied, her eyes twinkling as she took a careful sip of her tea. You have such a gift, Aurora. Your mother would be so proud.

Thank you, I murmured, feeling that familiar ache in my chest again. I just wish she were here to see it.

I know dear. I can see so much of her in you. I know you must miss her.

Everyday, I responded, forcing a smile.

You know, I remember you as a little girl. Always such a curious child. You were your mother’s shadow. No wonder you picked up so many of her baking tips, Miss Majorie replied.

She taught me everything I know. Enjoy your tea.

Miss Majorie smiled.

As the morning rush began to wind down, I marveled at the quiet magic that filled Mystic Bakery. The enchantments I wove were subtle, but their effects rippled throughout the town, strengthening the bonds between us all.

Here's to another day in Briarwood, I whispered, my heart swelling with pride and gratitude. May the magic never fade.

Alright, everyone, let's gather around for our mid-morning meeting, I called out, clapping my hands together to get the attention of Mystic Bakery's staff members.

From behind the kitchen counter, my assistant, Emily, emerged with a warm smile. She was a young woman in her early twenties with wavy, chestnut hair tied back in a loose ponytail and bright green eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief. She had been working with me for almost two years now and had quickly become my right-hand woman, always eager to learn and lend a helping hand.

Good morning, Aurora, she greeted, as the rest of the team shuffled over, eager to start the day on the right foot.

Morning, Emily, I replied, returning her smile. Let's get started, shall we? I quickly went over the day's specials and informed them of any customer orders or events taking place in town that would impact the Bakery.

Emily, do you have everything ready for Mrs. Thompson's birthday cake? I asked, turning my attention to my trusted assistant.

Absolutely. The cake layers are baked and cooled, and I've prepared the buttercream frosting. We'll just need to assemble and decorate it later this morning, Emily responded confidently.

Fantastic, thank you, I praised, making a mental note to check up on the progress later. And remember everyone, we have an order for two dozen cupcakes from the mayor's office for this afternoon.

Got it, boss! chirped Charlie, one of our more enthusiastic bakers, his flour-covered hands already reaching for the cupcake tins. He was always eager to help.

Great, thanks, Charlie. Now, let's make some magic today, I said, giving them all an encouraging smile.

As my employees dispersed to their stations, I took a moment to observe them in action. Emily expertly piped frosting onto a tray of blueberry muffins while chatting with

Hailey, one of our cashiers, about her weekend plans. Meanwhile, Charlie and Sarah, another talented baker, laughed together as they mixed cupcake batter and prepped pans. There was a sense of camaraderie among the staff that made me proud. They respected and supported one another, creating an atmosphere where everyone felt valued and appreciated.

Hey, Emily called out to me, snapping me from my thoughts. How's this for Mrs. Thompson's cake? She held up a beautifully piped rose made of buttercream, seeking my approval.

Perfect, as always, I grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Aw, shucks, she replied, playfully rolling her eyes but clearly pleased by the compliment. You'd probably just have to make all these roses yourself!

True, I laughed, but what fun would that be? I need you around to keep me on my toes. Speaking of which, I’ve got to go run a few errands. I need you to mind the shop for me.

Sure thing, Boss, Emily replied.

I knew that the bakery was in good hands as I closed the door behind me.

HEY GANG, I’M BACK. Did you miss me? I called out as I returned.

Glad you could make it back for closing, Emily laughed.

Well, I knew the bakery was in good hands, so I treated myself to a little R&R too, I chuckled.

The last customer of the day left Mystic Bakery with a contented smile and a box of pastries tucked under their arm. I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting it was almost closing time. The warmth from the ovens still lingered in the air. Alright, everyone, I called out to my staff. Let's wrap things up for the night.

Already? Charlie asked, peering up from his work station covered in splotches of flour.

Yep, time to go, I replied, Don't worry Charlie we get to do it all over again tomorrow.

Charlie smiled through a flour covered face.

An uneasy feeling hit me like a ton of bricks in the pit of my stomach. My body froze. It was like a storm brewing on the horizon, its dark clouds casting shadows over the bright world I had created