ENCHANTING INQUIRIES Series

How in the name of the goddess's favorite sports bra am I going to do this Magical Librarian job? I have no idea what I'm doing. And the woman who's supposed to be training me is…well, let's just say she's distracted and leave it at that. I guess I'll bumble through. It's become something of a trademark move for me.   My name is Naida Griffith and I'm a sorceress. I actually found that out not too long ago. I've lived with an undefined something burning in my belly for a while, feeling as if something wasn't quite right under my skin. Then, on my eighteenth birthday I started getting headaches. Bad ones. And random stuff started following me around. Recently I was approached by a group called the Société of Dire Magic to become Keeper of the Artifacts. A magical librarian. Given that magical artifacts have taken to following me around, I decided I might have an aptitude for the job. So I said yes. But in the first few days, I've been flogged by flip flops, bludgeoned by gnomes, and discovered a corpse in a suitcase. Then there's the woman who's supposed to be training me. She's…interesting.  Will I survive the training long enough to get the job as artifact librarian? You might as well ask me if a caterpillar gets manis or pedis. Who knows? But I know one thing for sure. This gig is hard. I'm going to do my best to succeed. Or die trying.

This is no boring librarian shushing people from behind a desk. This librarian corrals rogue magic. But more importantly, she has a frog and a cat, and she's not afraid to use them! I knew when I woke up with a migraine that things were going to get interesting. As a magical artifact wrangler, it's not an unusual way to start my day. But I had no idea how bad it was going to get. Until I found a frog sitting in my teacup. Even that, I could explain to myself if I had to. After all, I have a creative mind. But when the frog started talking to me, yeah, I was pretty sure I'd taken the wrong kind of pill that morning for my headache. If only I'd realized then what I know now. The talking frog was just the beginning of my problems. And quite a beginning it was!

I wish my job as a magical librarian was just about shuffling books and shushing people from behind a desk. Alas, the magic I wrangle requires a bit more than shuffling and shushing. And to make things worse, I have a frog and a cat, and I have no idea how to use them! Sure, I understand, we all have bills to pay. Personally, I could use a bit of extra cash too. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't kill for it. At least…not without dark magic influence. And that's exactly the problem. Dark. Magic. Influence. My first challenge for the day is finding that artifact and putting it under lock and key before it kills anybody else. My second challenge is figuring out how to deal with a bossy frog and a pushy cat. Which of the two do you suppose will give me the bigger headache? Yeah. That's what I think too. The frog and cat are going to be the death of my sanity. Maybe I should put them under lock and key too.

'Tis the season for great folly…walawalawalawalala…ribbit. It's Christmas time at Croakies. The tree is up. The stockings are hung. And Christmas tunes are turning the atmosphere jolly. After a tumultuous Samhain, I've found my chi again and I'm starting to enjoy the season of love and giving. Yeah. You probably know how this is going to end. When Sebille suggests I open the bookstore up to a small holiday party, I foolishly agree. How was I supposed to know that the hobgoblin would decide it would be fun to hide everybody's stuff? Or that we'd be hit with a freak winter storm that confined everybody inside for the duration. Or that a "You're me but who am I?" spell would be released inside the shop, switching everybody's identities and creating general chaos and hysteria? I could probably deal with all that if it weren't for the fact that my friend, Lea…the one person who could possibly reverse the spell…was ensconced in SB the parrot, with no opposable thumbs for spelling. And me? Of course, I'm sitting fat and squishy inside Mr. Slimy. Thank goodness Rustin isn't currently in residence, or it would be really crowded in here. Who spelled my party? What do a pair of Santa's elves have to do with it? And why have old enemies suddenly become new friends? I apparently have a little holiday mystery to solve inside Croakies, and I have no idea how I'm going to solve it with everybody mixed up and some of us human. Have I told you I hate this season? Ribbit!

Beauty isn't only fleeting, it can actually be deadly!  Beauty isn't only fleeting, it can actually be deadly! My favorite customer, Mrs. Foxladle, finds herself at odds with her book club friends over a curious obsession with youth and beauty. While the disagreement seems to have saved the octogenarian from being returned to the earliest moments of her existence…literally…it isn't doing anything to keep her from looking guilty for the deaths of her friends. There's no doubt in my mind I'm dealing with a rogue magical artifact in the hands of someone with diabolical intent. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to find either the artifact or the person wielding it. It will be up to me and Detective Grym to find the culprits. Except that, Grym's timetable might just be a bit on the wonky side too. Which leaves solving the mystery up to me and my friends. It's just a really good thing I have a cat and a frog and… Yeah, about that… I'm really no closer to figuring out how to use them either. Troll boogers! This magic wrangling stuff is hard!

Ancient Chinese proverb says, give cat mouse and give frog fly, they'll soothe your monsters so you won't die. Okay, maybe I just made that up. But I'll try anything at this point. Croakies is suddenly being overrun by monsters. Yeah. Monsters. And I have no clue where they're coming from. Are they tied to something we've done in the past? Do they have anything to do with the strange phone calls I've been getting from a really prickly local author? Most importantly, how are we going to explain to the humans about the appearance of a certain giantnormous blue monster flinging car-sized cookies around? Where did all these squirrel squattin' songbirds come from? And, for the love of the goddess's favorite spanks, why is there ice all over the floor? Sigh. The frog and the cat? Yeah, they're really pretty useless on this one. But at least they're living the good life thanks to my tireless efforts to feed, house, and clean up after them and their naughty friend Hobs. Yay me. Mega monster boogers! This magic wrangling gig is for the birds. And the frogs. And the cats. And the hobgoblins. And, apparently, for the monsters hiding at Croakies.

Farmer Blue has lost his cows and doesn't know where to find them. But Farmer blue has found guess who, to wrangle the magic that hides them.  I'm really not much of a country mouse. Up until recently, my idea of the great outdoors has been Enchanted Park in the center of the city. But my job is to wrangle magical artifacts. So, when a local farmer calls to tell me his dairy cows are disappearing and he thinks it's the work of a rogue artifact…sigh…it appears I'm about to get a crash course in becoming a farm girl. These cows haven't just meandered away chewing their cuds. They've actually disappeared. Poof! As in here one minute, gone the next. Which means it's up to me to don tall rubber boots and traverse the cow bumps…slog through the cow patties…and reach into the abyss to try to drag them back. I'm not sure how the frog and the cat are going to help with this one. I really didn't want to bring them along at all. But you know how insistent they can be… Wait…where's the frog? Has anybody seen my cat? Slimy! Wicked! Where on earth have you gone? Poof?

Magical chaos, old enemies, new adversaries, and danger around every corner…I HATE this time of year! Okay, I'll admit it, this is my least favorite time of year. Yeah, I understand the enchantment of the season…I get that…but most people don't have jobs that involve wrangling magic. During the last three months of the year, magical influences run rampant. And that means a lot more work for me. And this year is the worst of all. Why you ask? Because I'm not only trying to wrangle the out-of-control magic artifacts flying around all over the place. This year, I also have to try to keep a magical cat and a talking frog out of trouble. Goddess take the wheel. Things are about to get really ugly.

The heart holds the potential for great love…and a deadly need to protect it. Killer love potion? Really? I don't have enough trouble dealing with a cranky assistant, a mouthy frog, an opinionated cat, and a hobgoblin who thinks getting smacked upside the head is the best kind of fun? Now I'm dealing with a love potion that turns a delightful human emotion into a death sentence. Banshee bunions! As if I didn't already have enough trouble with my love life. Now I have to save someone else from dying of love. This magical librarian gig is going to be the death of me. Or…you know…of someone else.

Good parenting advice: Only allow your small frog, cat, and hobgoblin limited and supervised television time, or risk stunting their mental and physical growth. Yeah, it might already be too late for that… It seemed like good, innocent fun. A trip back to a simpler time, a fun jaunt to the "good old days". It turned out to be anything but harmless. The "kids" loved the old, black and white shows. But, per usual at Croakies, things devolved quickly, transforming "quiet" time into a heart-pounding adventure. And of course, as you'd expect, the frog, the cat, and the hobgoblin are right in the middle of it all. I'm a total derf at this whole parenting thing. And my "children" are brats. Holy flippin' frog flatulence. So much for the good old days…

The Pied Piper shall lead them all astray…A captured audience helpless to its sway. The pipe's infectious music bids them come…and come they will…two by two or one by one.    Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder, life upped the strangeness quota to a never-before-seen level. When a long line of critters, dazed and seemingly oblivious, marched past Croakies, I knew we had a situation on our hands. Actually…if you counted being unwillingly affianced to a big old pink ogre…I had more than one situation. Le sigh. Then someone died. A king declared war on Enchanted. And my situation became a crisis. It would be up to me to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice while wrangling the rogue pipe artifact he used for his nefarious deeds. Buffalo buttocks! I really do need a vacation.

3 full-length novels of paranormal cozy adventure fun!   This is no boring librarian shushing people from behind a desk. This librarian corrals rogue magic. But more importantly, she has a frog and a cat, and she's not afraid to use them!

A frog, a cat, and a hobgoblin walk into a bar…in the Jurassic period. Nope…not kidding. Okay, maybe it wasn't really a bar. But it was definitely the local drinking establishment. For dinosaurs…   My old mentor, Alice Parker is back, and she's brought a problem with her. A big one. One that's already testing the sprite's ability to keep it in lettuce and strawberries. It turns out that Alice has been on the run for a minute, trying to protect a magical tortoise from a dangerous sorceress who wants it for herself. You might be wondering why anybody would want to steal a tortoise. Well, if you had the chance to travel through time at the push of a button, or rather the press of a turtle's shell, would you take it? Yeah, me neither. I have enough trouble dealing with this time and world… But clearly, we aren't all diabolical magic users bent on our own empowerment. I mean, the possibilities for evil are unending if one can time-hop at will. Luckily, I have two cats, two frogs, and a hobgoblin to help me stave off the latest crisis. The only question is…what am I going to do with a former KoA who was as ineffectual at the Keeper's job as the goddess's torn pantyhose are at holding water. The only thing she'd been worse at was training me! And, more importantly, now that she's here…how am I going to get rid of her? Holy turtle trousers, this Keeper gig gets more challenging by the day…or the millennia!

Moon Madness has hit Croakies like an out-of-control freight train. As usual, I'm just not sure I'm up to the job of stopping it before it smashes everything into moon dust.   I'd heard the term "howl at the moon" before. Of course I had. But how was I supposed to know my little demon dog Vel would turn it into a compulsion? Buckle up lunar lovers. This ride is about to get bumpy.

Sometimes the only decision you can make is the wrong one. Then, all you can hope for is that two wrongs DO make a right. Also, don't mess with Dave.   Someone has taken Queen Sindra and all the fae and locked them away. He's demanding the most powerful artifact in the universe in exchange for their release. Unfortunately, the artifact is in the protective custody of The Universe, which is the main governing body for all magic. It's being protected by a powerful magician, a three-headed anti-mythological feline, and a guy named Dave. Don't ask me about the Dave thing. I don't have a clue. The only way we can save the entire fae population is to get our hands on that artifact. Our journey promises to be epic. Alas, it doesn't promise to be successful. Any way I look at it, things stand a really good chance of going horribly, epically wrong. Good thing I'm used to things going hideously wrong. In fact, it's become something of a signature move for me.