Once Upon a Witch: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery: Crooked Windows Inn Cozy Mystery, #1

By Valia Lind

One magical mishap and her world goes up in flames.

Cassandra Duke had her whole life figured out. She was going to stay away from magic, become a successful interior designer in a big city, and maybe finally learn how to waltz. But then, her magic acts up—without her permission—leaving her without a job and a plan.

Coming home was never in the stars. But when her aunt calls, Cassie packs up her stuff and heads to Crooked Windows Inn. Maybe with a little peace and quiet, and a remodeling gig, she can get her magic (and life) back under control.

But the universe is clearly out to get her!

Not only has she picked up an annoying cat sidekick, but then her childhood nemesis comes back into her life in the form of the (hot) new handyman, and things just can't get any worse.

That is, until one of the inn's guests turns up dead and Cassie's aunt is the prime suspect.

Now Cassie has no choice but to take the matters into her own magical hands.

Can she solve the case before her aunt is arrested for a crime she didn't commit?

If you love a little magic and wit with your murder, you'll love this brand new paranormal witch cozy mysteries series from USA Today bestselling author, Valia Lind!

One click today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Skazka Press
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798201228149

Book preview

1

There is a slight possibility that my life is a complete disaster. Okay, maybe only a mild disaster. Oh, who am I kidding? Today has proven that no matter how much I would like to have my act together, I have a tendency to tumble headfirst into a mess. Or multiple. At the same time. Go me!

Granted, cleaning up messes is kind of my specialty. Being an interior decorator requires a certain finesse of organization. Normally, I can handle myself. But today, the one thing that I’ve been keeping under wraps this whole time has decided to unravel.

Cassandra, I understand that you had good intentions, but I do not see how any of this is good. My boss, Laura Jingle, waves a hand at the apartment in front of her. Don’t let her jolly name fool you. She’s anything but a good spirit. Especially today. You see, I had this huge project, an enormous client, and everything was going according to plan. Until my magic went on a downward spiral and ruined every piece of furniture and art in the room. It’s as if the paintings melted off the walls and right into the thousands-of-dollars sofa. Among other things. The table, the lamps, and the—it might be good if I stop listing items.

It’s been so long since I’ve used my magic, I couldn’t even stop what was happening. And then Laura walked in on me trying to push the paint back into the painting with my bare hands. It was not a good look. I’ve literally been caught red handed.

I glance down at the red paint staining my palms, and I wonder if magical paint will be harder to scrub off my skin.

What will I tell Mr. Richards? He is paying us a huge amount of money to make this livable for his daughter. You made it look like a rundown art studio from one of those indie b-rated movies that are so popular right now!

Her voice keeps getting higher and higher as she talks, and honestly, I don’t pick up much of what she’s saying there at the end. At this point I’m just hoping and begging that nothing else happens. Because if I suddenly start setting the tables on fire with my mind, I’m pretty sure I will never work at another firm ever again.

Although, at this point, I fear that’s my fate anyway.

I’m sorry, Laura, I don’t—

No, I don’t even have time for your apologies. I need to call a cleanup crew. Maybe by some miracle we can do this before—

Just then, the front door opens. Mr. Richards walks in, talking in that incredibly loud voice of his.

Where is my favorite interior designer? I brought a special guest! We could not— he stops mid-sentence as he gets his first good look at the room. His daughter peeks out from behind his shoulder, her eyes narrowing.

Mr. Richards, we apologize. There was an accident and—

An accident? Mr. Richard bellows, cutting off Laura’s apology. This is a disaster. Thousands of dollars’ worth of disaster! How could you? Who did this? Is this a joke? You were supposed to be a reputable firm?

Sir, I am. My assistant had a mishap. But we will take care of it.

Mr. Richards spins around, his eyes on me. I stand my ground, because my aunt didn’t raise a coward, but I have to admit that he is a little scary.

You. He points, and I almost giggle at the slightly comical way his cheeks puff out. I want you out of here. Now!

Sir—

No, out! In fact, if you want any of my money, the man says, turning back to Laura. You will fire her on the spot.

My world drops out from beneath me, because even before Laura turns to me, I already know what her response will be.

Are you sure you have to go? my roommate Meg asks as she watches me zip up my suitcase. We’ve been having this conversation for the last two days, and the answer is still the same.

You know I don’t have a choice.

Yes, you do. You can come work at the office. They’re always looking for a reliable assistant. And you’re nothing if not reliable! We’ve been living together for the past year and have become friends as well as roommates. She did a two-week stint with Laura’s firm, and that’s how we met. We were both in the market for a new place to live.

I appreciate the offer, Meg, but you and I both know I need to be designing living spaces, not filing paperwork. And Laura made sure I won’t be doing that around these parts anytime soon.

Needless to say, the woman fired me on the spot and then made sure to make a point and tell me that I’m not welcome in any of her friend’s firms. And she has a lot of friends. She has to, to be successful in the business. But this also means I’m completely out of luck unless I take a few steps backward in my career and take a job completely out of the field, which I really refuse to do.

So, going to stay with your aunt is your best idea?

It is. I sigh because I know what staying at Crooked Windows Inn will do. Auntie Grace is a witch through and through and she has been trying to get me on the right side of the tracks for years. Her words, not mine. But I have my battles with magic, and it has cost me more relationships than I care to admit. Instead of dealing with all them rules and such, I chose a life of normalcy. Look where that has gotten me.

Plus, her hip has been bothering her with all those stairs. She also said I can help her renovate some of the upstairs rooms, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that. It’ll be good practice.

I know I sound like I’m still trying to talk myself into it, and maybe I am. My roommate watches me with a look of concern in her gaze, but I’m not budging.

I’ll come visit! Meg finally says, catching me in a long hug.

You better.

There’s not much to say after that, so I get into my little Toyota Corolla and head off to Monroe Cove. It’s the one place I never truly wanted to return to.

It’s not like it’s a terrible place to live. It’s near the water, and the town is adorable enough to be on a postcard. That means there are plenty of tourists to keep the place afloat. The economy there is not struggling, that’s for sure, which is why Auntie Grace has never understood my need to get away. But it wasn’t like I thought I couldn’t make a living there. I just needed to be somewhere else to do so.

Now, as I begin my ten-hour drive, I wonder if this is how it was always going to end. Was there was some part of me that just expected to return to Monroe Cove? Or was it my magical blood that always thought so?

My mother was one of the greatest witches to ever live in Monroe Cove. Too bad I never knew her. She led the coven with compassion and understanding. I never knew my father, and honestly, from what I’ve heard from Auntie Grace, that’s probably for the best.

Mama disappeared when I was just two years old. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought of that more than once in my lifetime. A part of me doesn’t want to be anywhere near Monroe Cove because that part of me thinks Mama chose to leave me behind.

But Auntie Grace says she never would have done so, and I have no choice but to believe it.

Even though, after twenty-two years, no one knows what happened to her.

As I pull onto the highway, I click the button for the radio and let my playlist fill the space around me. I’ve always been a fan of driving, so I plan to use this trip to help me figure some things out.

Like what in the world am I supposed to do with my life now?

2

When I finally park in front of Crooked Windows Inn, my first thought is that it looks exactly how I left it. The building is the biggest contradiction in Monroe Cove. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

The mansion is large and dark, housing thirty-two rooms, a huge kitchen, a big dining room that’s open to the public, a ballroom, and two sitting rooms on the first floor. One of those rooms is my favorite place in all of Monroe Cove—the library. There’s also a smaller sitting room between the bedrooms where Auntie Grace lives, and where I’ll be staying. I love it. Everything in Monroe Cove is bright and airy, and Crooked Windows Inn looks like it’s inhabited by witches.

As I get out of the car and rearrange my black mini skirt, I can’t help but smile at the large plaque hanging over the front entrance.

Crooked Windows Inn is named after its crooked windows. You’d think it was some play on words but nope. The place is actually built to be asymmetrical, and it’s one of my favorite things about it. The dark wood and the mismatched shapes, which light up at night, make the atmosphere here top notch.

A loud horn makes me jump where I stand. When I turn around, my eyes zero in on the dark blue pick-up truck idling behind my car. The man behind the wheel honks again before waving his hand out the window. Instead of moving my car, which he clearly wants me to do, I fold my arms in front of me and wait him out. I know for a fact that this place is reserved for Auntie Grace. And since she doesn’t drive anymore, it’s mine for the taking.

The man jerks his truck into park, before jumping out of his vehicle. I’ve met plenty of intimidating individuals in my life, so I don’t even flinch when he marches over to me.

Ma’am, I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but you may not park here.

That voice. I’d know that voice anywhere.

For a second, I freeze as the six-foot-two gorgeous specimen of a man stops in front of me. But only a second. I ain’t a thirteen-year-old girl anymore, and he is not my number one tormentor.

I’ll have you know, Dean Harvey, I am allowed to park anywhere I please on this property.

It’s his turn to be struck dumb, but he’s always been