The Accidental Witch: The Half-Witch: The Accidental Witch, #1

By PJ Tremblay

Willowbrook Massachusetts is a paranormal friendly town where magic-folk and normal-folk live together in harmony, or so it seems. When the head of the normal faction is murdered, Fiona Gerhart, a half-witch, is the prime suspect. The Accidental Witch, Lily Hawthorn and her boyfriend, Sheriff Ethan Blake, are convinced Fiona is innocent and intend to solve the murder. With Orion, Lily's familiar a magical Main Coon cat, they discover Willowbrook is not so paranormal friendly after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: PJ Tremblay
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223718871

PJ Tremblay

Writer and author of Fantasies and Mysteries. A retired Pastor and Veteran with a MA, a BS, and an AAS in various subjects, I have always loved learning and dreaming. My wife Pam and I have been married since 1979 and we have 5 grandchildren. We live out in the country in what we like to think of as a tiny home where we enjoy nature and critters.

Book preview

PRELUDE

I’m an accidental witch . My parents are Normies, or non-magic folk. Imagine their shock when my magic exploded one day in Ninth grade, transforming the mean-girls into hairless rats. They remained hairless and horrible until I learned how to reverse the unintended spell. The real magic happened earlier that day behind the bleachers, when Ethan Blake kissed me. After a six-month suspension, I returned with all my witchiness revealed, wearing a pointy black hat, black lace leggings, and a short-cut black dress. Still tiny at four foot five with a pale white complexion, glasses, and thin as a stick, I was a giant, and I liked the new me. Ethan wasn’t sure. Whenever he saw me, he fell apart into shaking and mumbling. He wondered if I spelled him, and maybe I did, but the magic was love and nothing’s more powerful. Now Ethan’s the Sheriff and I own The Lil’ Apothecary Shop. Finally, at age twenty, I cured him with a kiss. Well, maybe more than one. He needs a booster once in a while.

My shop, The Lil’ Apothacary, is located in my Gramma Bunch’s home and I live in the apartment above the store. Gramma died and willed her home to me, but never passed. Occasionally she appears to let me know she’s watching, like the day she brought me Orion, my Familiar, a Main Coon tiger-colored cat the size of a small dog. Madeline Mystic, the Grand Magicardomae of the Star-Wielder’s coven, told me Orion is something more than simply a cat. He proved himself in our last mystery by sniffing out clues, but I suspect there’s much more to my fantastic fluffy feline.

On the surface, our small town, Willowbrook, Massachusetts, seems like a quiet, tranquil place. Our community describes itself as paranormal friendly. Witches, Wizards, and Normies enjoy life together, free from their ancient history of hatred and persecution. Everything isn’t as it seems. Under the town’s peaceful surface, a storm was brewing.

Madeline Mystic nominated me for the Star-Wielders, causing a stir among the purist members. It’s quite an honor, but I’m not sure. On the one hand, during the six-month trial period, I’d have access to the most ancient and complete sorcery library in existence. Sure, quite a benefit, but I’m not a joiner. The Star-Wielders are a segregated club - no Normies allowed. Madeline, using her considerable influence, pushed for my nomination. Me being a child of Normies; the offer signals a crack in their hard purist concrete.

After Alabaster Bilgewater’s use of a Bloodroot love potion on Normy women, some Normies refuse to intermingle with Magics. The murder of Alabaster by Normy, Harriet Harrington, has led to Magics fearing persecution and avoiding Normies. My nomination to the Star-Wielders seemed political, a sort of concession to the Normy community. So, I was, stuck in the middle.

I closed the shop and Orion and I met Ethan for lunch at the town square. The square is a park where locals gather. It surrounds the Willowbrook courthouse, an old building on the historic registry. It is as old as the Star-Wielder's lodge and was once the site of witch trials. A sidewalk borders the block-sized square, providing a romantic walking path. Ethan and I strolled hand in hand making a round before settling at a picnic table for our bag lunch. Orion skipped the walk and started on his large bowl of kitty-kibble. He finished gobbling it down as we sat. We unpacked our lunch as Orion sat back to clean his paws.

It was late Autumn. The trees, dressed in their finest reds, yellows, and browns, showed off their colors. I sat across from my handsome green-eyed boyfriend as a breeze loosed leaf-rainbows that danced down around us. We munched on matching PB&J sandwiches. The falling leaves decorated my black pointy hat’s brim adding color to my usual black and white visage. Ethan insisted on taking a selfie with our bulging cheeks mashed together. Orion provided entertainment by diving