Two Can Witch the Game: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery: Crooked Windows Inn Cozy Mystery, #2

By Valia Lind

It's a new month in Monroe Cove and magic is in the air. 

So is the smell of freshly baked goods as the town prepares for its annual spring bake-off. Cassie's best friend is a top contender, and Cassie is there to lend a hand. But then, everything starts going wrong, from a ruined mixer to a clogged garbage disposal. It's as if Penny's Bakery is cursed.

Now that Cassie is starting to feel more at home at Crooked Windows Inn, and with her magic, she's determined to help her friend out.

Is it a curse or just a case of bad luck?

When a body turns up at the back of the bakery, the whole town is in uproar. And with so many new faces mulling about, there is no saying who could be the culprit!

With the help of a quirky cat, a handsome handyman, and a meddling aunt, Cassie will do whatever it takes to make sure her friend isn't next on the killer's list.

If you love a little magic and wit with your murder, you'll love this fast-paced 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: 9798215552292

Book preview

1

Spring has come to Monroe Cove and so has allergy season. The amount of sneezing that's currently going on within the walls of Crooked Windows Inn is making me very uncomfortable. It’s not that I'm a germaphobe or anything. Germs are a part of life; I get that. But I am conscious of the fact that some people don't know how to cover their mouths when they sneeze. It makes me rethink touching any of the doorknobs.

Which is probably why I volunteered to help outside of the inn.

Birdie, do you have to? I exclaim, walking out of my bathroom to find the grey cat spread out on the bed, right over my black skirt. The cat gives me a look as if I'm bothering her, not the other way around, and proceeds to stretch.

You know, I thought we were going to be friends, but I take back everything I said. I don't like you.

Birdie gives me another look before meowing once and then continuing to lick her paws. I really did think I got over my dislike of furry creatures, but nope. This cat is going to get on my last nerve. She's already nearly there. I don't care how strange it is for me to be a witch who dislikes cats. Birdie and I are inching toward an all out war.

When I pull my skirt from beneath her not so tiny body, it's covered in fur. I give the cat another strong glare before marching to the bathroom and the lint roller I purchased a few weeks ago. The sticky part is almost gone, so I make a mental note to pick up another one.

Glancing at the clock, I realize I'm running late.

Thanks for nothing, Birdie, I mumble, pulling the skirt over my hips before rushing into the bedroom to grab my boots. It might be warming up outside, but I'm going to wear these babies for as long as I can.

Sugar plum, are you a little late? Auntie Grace greets me as I speed walk out of our own hallway and into the main foyer of the inn. Having my own and Auntie Grace’s side of the inn all to ourselves is heaven sent. I love our small library and spacious rooms.

I'll never get over just how beautiful and authentic this place is. The wooden accent has been preserved wonderfully over the years, still carrying that fresh smell. The last part is no doubt Auntie Grace's magic’s doing, but I don't mind. It makes me feel at home. Which is something I didn't think was possible.

That cat decided my black skirt was her favorite lounging place. I grunt while Auntie Grace chuckles. It's not funny.

It is too, honey pie. That cat, as you so affectionately call her, has got your number.

Cats don't do that.

You can do magic, honey bunches. And you think cats can't find which buttons of yours to push? She gives me a look which I try very hard to ignore. Talk of magic isn't my favorite, okay? Sue me. I haven't exactly had the best go of it lately. I lost my big city job because of a mishap. And even before lately I’ve had more problems with magic than any sane person should. Auntie Grace keeps telling me it’s in my blood, and I’ll learn how to control it. All I want is to push it out of my mind.

Well, I'm off to help Penny. I'll see you later.

I turn with a little wave and slam right into a hard chest. Air leaves my lungs in a woosh. I would've fallen backward if the arms attached to the said hard chest didn't grab onto me, pulling me forward. I land right against him, my hands planted between us. When I raise my head up, I meet the amused face of none other than Mean Dean, childhood nemesis turned handyman.

Okay, I'm trying really hard to stop calling him that, I promise. But it’s a process. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

In a bit of a rush, are we? Dean says. I can feel his chuckle under my fingertips. The movement is quite intimate, and that's when I realize I'm still plastered to him.

I have places to be, I hurry to reply, taking a step back. I also ignore the way my body instantly wants to be back in his arms.

Stupid, traitorous body.

Have you had your coffee yet? You're a little dangerous without it.

My shoulders snap back, all thought of intimacy forgotten, as I give Dean my best glare.

I am a grown woman. I am perfectly capable of functioning without coffee.

This time, it's my aunt who chuckles. I turn to throw her a look. When I meet Dean's eyes again, his haven't lost the amusement.

That's it. The nickname stays, I mumble, receiving a quick confused look before I push past him and out the door. Most of the time, I can give as good as I get. But when it comes to Mean Dean, my tongue decides to stop working. Which makes me a nutcase in his presence.

So impressive, I know.

Whatever and whatever. Penny and I used to say that when we wanted to move on from a topic, and I'm bringing it back.

Oh no. I glance at my phone, seeing what time it is. I should've been at Penny's by now.

Pushing all thoughts of Dean out of my head, I get into my car and drive toward Main Street.

Of course, all I'm doing on the way to Penny's is thinking about him. My day would start like that. I couldn't just, you know, have a good morning. But, no, I get a run in with Mean Dean. Well, and a fur covered skirt.

Okay, okay, I'm back to thinking maybe I shouldn't call him that anymore. He did kind of help me out last time. But I still can't shake off my childhood or the memories that I carry with me. Especially after Auntie Grace decided to drop a huge truth bomb on me and told me there are memories of my childhood that have been erased by magic.

Yes, I have to live with that information like nothing is wrong.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with anything, and today is not about me, it's about Penny. Since spring has come to Monroe Cove, so has the annual Bake Off, and Penny, being the baking goddess that she is, of course, has to participate. That’s putting it lightly, she's basically in charge of making sure the event runs smoothly because of said expertise. It's a lot. I am determined to help her do—well—everything so she can focus on the baking. I'll be helping out during the day and running her bakery when needed while she preps all the baking stuff for the bake off.

Good morning, sunshine, I say, when I step into Penny's bakery a few minutes later.

Penny, my poor friend, is already running around like a crazy person trying to serve the customers. Monroe Cove has always been a place for tourists. The quaint little town holds enough charm to attract singles and families alike. Close enough to the water for boating adventures and such, yet far enough away to be isolated by the forest on every side. It's a unique experience. The minute it starts warming up and spring break and family vacation time comes, it is filled with new people and families.

Oh, good. You're here, Penny says. Can you please make sure the coffee is ready and being served?

Wait. What are you talking about? I ask. Don't you sell coffee here?

Yes, Penny says. We do sell coffee here, but there's also a table outside with free coffee, so that we can advertise the bake off.

I came in through the back, so I clearly missed an important new feature.

Oh, wow. That seems like a good idea, I say scrunching my eyebrows. Not that I don't love free coffee, but that seems like a less than smart business decision. I don't want Penny to be missing out on customers.

Don't look at me like that, Cassie, Penny says. It is a good idea, and plus, it wasn't really my idea. It was the mayor's.

Yes, of course, the mayor. That man has been a special kind of a thorn in a lot of people's sides.

Oh, that's right. Penny doesn't miss my tone. You haven't met Mayor Moore yet.

Wait, Mayor Moore. Are you serious about this? I ask. What happened to old Mister Gary the Rude Mayor?

Yes, I have a nickname for everyone. Even though they're not very original.

He got nudged out, very nicely and firmly. Penny says. Of course, there's a woman in charge now. We are very progressive around here. She winks at me.

I laugh at that because Monroe Cove has always been big on tradition. As far as I know, they have always had a male mayor, from the same family mind you, mostly because of that said tradition. We've had some really awesome women candidates in the past, but nothing ever stuck. At least not when I lived here. Huh. I guess things really do change.

Okay, fine, I say. I'll go outside and make sure people get some free coffee, so they can come in here and not buy it.

Cassie, they'll come in here and buy some baked goods to go with that coffee. Penny smiles. Don't worry. I'm still making a profit.

You better be.

She smirks at me as she hands me a clipboard.

Also, please try to get people to sign up for the bake off. We're having a bunch of different booths, and it will be great to see a big crowd participating.

Okay, okay. I glance down at the empty sheet. I'll just do my part, and shut my mouth. Ha.

You have never just done your part and shut your mouth, Cassandra Duke, Penny says. And I love you for it. Now please, get to it?

I'm gettin’. Am I allowed to have the free coffee?

You can have as much as you want. Wait— She raises her hand, realizing her mistake. You can have some, with enough left for the majority of the customers.

She smirks again, and I roll my eyes. I love coffee, okay? No crime in that.

Leaving Penny to her pastries, I head past the busy line and step outside. The table has already been set up with two coffee dispensers. Justin, one of Penny's few employees, is standing in front of it.

Oh good, you're here.

I'm here.

Without another word, Justin turns to the table, flipping up the sign that says Free Coffee and walks toward the bakery's door.

It's all yours.

I reach over to grab a cup, ready for some deliciousness. But before I can pour myself one, two women walk up, chattering away, and ask for one. Then a family is there, and I realize—it's going to be a long day.

2

By the time lunch comes around, the coffee dispensers have been refilled five times. Surprise, surprise, it has nothing to do with me drinking it like water, as Auntie Grace likes to put it. I only had one cup, and it was mostly warm. People really do flock to the freebies. I have to begrudgingly admit it was a good idea. If Penny isn't losing out