Diana Orgain's Blog, page 10
June 13, 2021
Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter One
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter One
MAEVE
Maeve O’Dare watched her friends disappear from the
rearview. It broke her heart watching Gracie wave
frantically to her. Leaving Wisteria Pines when her café, Listen: It’s Old
Fashioned, was still so new made her anxious. Then again, she was
leaving the café in some pretty trustworthy hands. Her best friend
Gracie and her one employee, Donnie, were going to handle things in
her absence, and they’d proven themselves competent.
Her face flushed as she saw Officer Joseph standing next to Gracie
wearing a goofy looking grin. Maeve had taken a chance, giving him a
quick peck on the cheek before departing for her trip to LA.
Now, she regretted it.
I can’t believe I kissed him! Stupid, stupid, stupid, Maeve!
She shook it off. Her time away would give him an opportunity to
think about how he felt, and that was a good thing. She didn’t need to
get involved with someone who didn’t reciprocate her feelings.
She’d had enough of that.
Joseph was a complete sweetheart—very different from her ex—a
little awkward at times, but the man had a heart of gold. And there
was something about a man in uniform that could make a woman
blush. She wasn’t afraid to admit that.
“Bye, Joseph,” she whispered into the rearview mirror.
From the passenger seat, Wanda, her trusty canine companion,
growled.
Maeve laughed. “You need to start being nicer to Joseph, sweetie.”
She reached over and patted her pooch on the head. “Whether you
like it or not, he’s sticking around if I have anything to say about it.”
Wanda seemed to huff and curled up in her seat resting her head
on her paws with a grunt.
Maeve smirked. Wanda was the most expressive dog she had ever
met. Maeve never had to wonder what her dog was thinking, it was
usually written all over her face.
“We’ve got a long drive, Wanda, you up for it?” Maeve asked, and
Wanda grunted again.
LA was a considerable drive from Wisteria Pines, and Maeve
wasn’t looking forward to the trip any more than she was the destina‐
tion. She’d been asked by the LAPD to come in for questioning
because her ex-fiancé had gone missing, and then the car he’d last
been seen in, had been found at the bottom of a lake somewhere in
Mexico.
With my luck, as soon as I get there, they’ll slap cuffs on me.
An image of herself in an orange jumpsuit fluttered through her
mind, giving her the shivers. She pushed it from her thoughts.
“I’m innocent. I have nothing to worry about, right, Wanda?”
The dog covered her eyes with a paw.
Maeve moaned. “Well, that’s certainly reassuring. Thanks a lot,
girl.”
The police had told Maeve that her abrupt move from LA to
Wisteria Pines during Frank’s disappearance looked suspicious. They
said that to avoid further suspicion, she needed to cooperate with the
investigation. She thought she’d been doing that already, so this trip to
LA was rather annoying, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she
needed closure on Frank.
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She had assumed he’d left her; it certainly felt that way. She’d
called him an Uber after a fight, when he’d been too drunk to drive
home, and then hadn’t seen him again since. She suspected then that
he must have wanted out of their relationship. And it stung that he
hadn’t even had the decency to tell her he was leaving her.
Then, only a few weeks ago, she’d learned that the Uber driver had
also gone missing. So, what had really happened? Had Frank cheated
on her and run off with the girl in the middle of the night?
But now, he and the girl were still missing, while the car had been
recovered in a precarious state.
So, was Frank hurt…or worse?
That, to Maeve, wasn’t fair.
I should be able to just hate him, she thought, but now I’m worried
about the cheater.
Wanda pressed her wet nose against Maeve’s hand, and Maeve
smiled. “How do you know when I’m upset, girl?”
The dog wagged her tail, making Maeve smile.
“So, what do you want to do for eight hours in the car, Wanda?”
Maeve asked.
Wanda jumped into the back seat of the purple Volkswagen. The
dog dug around for a moment before hopping back up to the
passenger seat.
In her mouth was a book.
“My magick book? You want me to practice magick while I’m
driving? I know it’s not the same as texting, Wanda, but I’m pretty
sure it’s still dangerous. What if I accidentally melt my car tires while
we’re on the highway?” Maeve laughed, taking the book from Wanda
and tossing it on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat.
Ah, yes, the magick book.
The mysterious gift, given to her by her mother before the woman
split for Italy on one of her grand adventures. Maeve thought it had
been some sort of gag gift up until she realized that, yes, she had
magickal powers.
Sure has been a crazy couple of months, Maeve thought. Solved a couple
of murders, discovered a local government scandal, opened a café, adopted a
stray dog, and discovered I’m a witch!
Maeve hadn’t had a chance to grill her mother about it, but obviously
the woman knew something when she’d given her the book.
Thanks for the heads up, Mom!
“Tell you what, Wanda, there’s a truck stop with an awesome diner
at about our halfway point. We’ll stop there for an early dinner, and
I’ll get some practice in. Deal?”
Wanda barked her approval.
It took a few hours to get to the truck stop, putting them a little bit
behind schedule. But, Maeve was starving, and she was certain that
her dog was as well. Wanda could put away food like no other. After
she parked, Maeve snagged the magick book, and the two of them
walked into the diner.
A server greeted them and asked that they stay outside—no dogs
allowed, apparently. Maeve considered using a bit of magick to win
some favor with the server to allow Wanda in, but it was a cool, crisp
day, the weather finally turning from summer to fall; Maeve’s favorite
season.
“That’s fine, I see you have a patio, we’ll eat outside,” Maeve said.
They sat at one of the outdoor tables under a large umbrella, and
the server kindly brought a bowl of water for Wanda and placed it on
the ground.
“Thank you,” Maeve said with a smile.
“No problem,” the woman said. “Can I get you something to
drink?”
“A cola would be great,” Maeve said, and the woman disappeared.
She scanned through the menu, the diner offered all day breakfast
which sounded divine. Decided, she plopped open her magick book
and began skimming through it, giggling at some of the ridiculous
spells.
The book said that her powers were greatly enhanced by scent.
Every witch was different though. Maeve pulled some perfume from
her purse and gave herself a little spritz. She loved the lavender scent,
and she’d learned that it tended to give her a bigger boost than others.
She glanced down, seeing that Wanda had finished her bowl of
water. “As show of good will, grant her a refill,” she said, flicking her
wrists, and the bowl refilled itself with water. A sense of pride filled
Maeve. “That was easy,” she said
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”I couldn’t stop reading!”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three Continued
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Three?
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter Three Continued…
After a while, Maeve and her mom plopped down at an empty
poolside table and people-watched.
As they were talking, Maeve noticed a couple heading in their
direction. “You know those two?” Maeve asked. “They’re staring.”
“Hmm … I know of them. Rebecca and Kirk. They’re actors,” Fiona
said. “But, I don’t know them personally. Your dog seems to like them,
though.”
Wanda stood on her hind legs and wagged her tail. “Good, girl,”
Maeve said.
“Maeve O’Dare?” the woman, Rebecca, asked.
“Yes, hello,” Maeve said politely, and the woman motioned toward
the empty chairs. Maeve nodded, letting her know they were welcome
to sit.
The couple plopped down, and the woman smiled. “First, love
your songs. I am a big fan of Die, You Dirty Dog!”
Wanda whined.
“Oh hush now, Wanda. I wrote that song before adopting you.”
Maeve said, and everyone laughed.
“Did you know you made it into the tabloids around here last
month?” the woman asked.
Maeve shook her head, confused. “Umm …?”
“Yeah,” the man, Kirk, said. “Some picture of you with Chuck
Lowry at a café out in … Wisteria Pines? We honestly came over here
to get the scoop on that. Chuck’s an old buddy of ours. He’s been
AWOL for a while, and after we saw that picture in a magazine, we
figured he must have gotten caught up in a relationship or something
to have dipped out of LA for so long.”
Maeve blushed. “Oh, gosh, no!” she exclaimed. “He was just passing
through town about a month ago, and it was the weekend my café
opened. That was the first time I ever met him. He hung around some
that weekend … actually, my dog went missing, and he found her for
me. He even bought her that new collar she’s wearing.”
“I guarantee you Chuck’s got the hots for you, then,” Rebecca said.
“Chuck’s not exactly the type to do people favors.”
“You didn’t tell me Chuck Lowry paid a visit to Wisteria Pines,”
Fiona said. “That must have been interesting. I hear he’s quite a char‐
acter.” She then looked at Rebecca. “I’m not super into celebrity
gossip, but didn’t you two date?”
“Yeah, we were the on and off couple of LA’s B-list celebrities
everyone talked about for a while,” Rebecca said, blushing. “We didn’t
mix very well. But, we stayed friends … mostly. Thanks for
confirming you two aren’t dating. I thought Chuck had finally lost his
marbles.”
“Excuse me?” Maeve questioned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way,” Rebecca said, and Maeve
could already tell the oncoming comment was meant to be taken the
wrong way. “But, Chuck’s always had … standards. He always tried to
date above his tier, you know? Hard to imagine he would try to date
some washed up song writer who only had a couple of hits.”
“Well, aren’t you just a treat?” Maeve hissed. “For the record,
sweetie, Chuck asked me out. I turned him down because he seemed
kind of like a creep. Kind of weird that you two didn’t work out since
you seem like a match made in hell.”
Fiona snorted, and Rebecca glared in her direction.
“Okay, that’s enough, Rebecca. I think you might have had too
much to drink,” Kirk said, yanking his date to her feet. “Sorry, Ms.
O’Dare. It was … nice chatting with you.” Kirk dragged Rebecca away,
the two of them spatting.
Maeve looked down to see Wanda curled up and looking either
bored or sad.
“You all right, Wanda?” she asked, and the dog whined.
“Let’s walk her around and see if she perks up,” Fiona said. A cold
breeze had picked up, and that partnered with the catering winding
up, most of the party guests began to wander indoors.
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“So, Chuck Lowry – as in the Jenny Loves Charlie actor?” Fiona
asked.
“Yeah,” Maeve said. “He seemed kind of full of himself. But, he did
track down Wanda for me. He probably drove all over town looking
for her. But, what was weird, was he broke into my house to leave
Wanda in there. I mean, that’s just weird. He’d left town, so I never
had a chance to berate him for that. Wanda was just sitting there with
a note and that pretty new purple collar. I changed the locks because I
have no idea how he got inside.”
“That’s kind of creepy,” Fiona said, making a face.
“It’s funny, though. Back home in Wisteria Pines, all Wanda ever
wants to do is watch Jenny Loves Charlie. I’m kind of sad I missed the
meeting between Wanda and Chuck with how obsessed my dog is
with that show.”
“I didn’t care for it. The acting was kind of cheesy,” Fiona said. “It
had its perks, though. I’ll give Lowry this – he is a handsome fellow.
But, that’s pretty much all he’s got going for him. His acting is just
decent enough for a role like Charlie, but from what I hear, he’s a bit
arrogant.”
“Eh, he wasn’t too bad,” Maeve said. “Definitely not my type. Well,
I guess I can’t say that entirely. He kind of reminded me of Frank.” She
shrugged. “He had the same taste in clothes. But, I won’t ever fall for
that kind of bull crap again.”
“Good,” Fiona said. “I never liked Frank. Although, I do hope he’s
okay. I’m sorry you have to deal with all his junk right now. I hope the
police find him, but I’m glad he’s out of your life. You deserve better.
Just curious, is there anyone else in your life right now you care to tell
your mother about?”
Maeve blushed, and she thought of Joseph. Joseph was so different
from Frank. He was sweet, funny, and charming in his own little way.
A little bit of a klutz, but it was almost endearing. “Maybe,” Maeve
said. “Right before I left for LA … I kissed this cop from Wisteria
Pines, so I don’t know what to expect when I get back.”
“My girl made the first move?” Fiona grinned. “Oh, I’m proud of
that one.”
Maeve suddenly locked eyes with a woman across the room. Her
eyebrows raised. “No way!” she said. “Look, Wanda, its Jenny from
your favorite show.”
Wanda glanced up, and suddenly her hair stood on end, and she
wiggled backwards, almost afraid.
Maeve frowned. Wanda’s reaction wasn’t exactly what Maeve had
been expecting.
The pretty redheaded woman in the pink gown smiled and waved
across the room at them. They were far enough away that Maeve felt
the need to glance over her shoulder to make sure the woman was
indeed waving at them.
“Is that Selena?” Fiona asked. “The woman from Jenny Loves
Charlie?”
“Yup,” Maeve said. “With how much Wanda watches that show, I
definitely would recognize that face. I think she’s waving us over.”
“Well let’s go see what the former sitcom star wants,” Fiona said
perkily, and they headed over.
Maeve glanced down at Wanda as they walked. She didn’t care for
how anxious her dog was acting.
When they reached her, Selena giggled. “Maeve O’Dare,” she said
happily. “Such a pleasure.”
Maeve smiled. “You know me?”
“Why, yes,” she said. “My old pal Chuck Lowry has mentioned
you a couple of times. Said if I ever pass through … oh, what was
the name of the town? Wisteria Pines … that I should stop by your
café.”
Chuck is telling people about my café?
Maeve grinned. “Oh, wow, thank you.”
“Your song writing is excellent, well, except for that one,” Selena
said.
“Pardon?”
“Hopscotch,” Selena said, an expectant look on her face.
Maeve’s stomach dropped.
“Oh, God!” Maeve said. “I apologize to your ears for suffering
through those lyrics. Not one of my best works.”
“Sweetheart, I was the one who bought the song,” Selena said.
“When I was trying to break into the music industry a while back.”
Maeve’s face turned red, and she felt physically sick. “That was
you! I sold it to a Sheldon … Green …”
“Sheldon Greenberg is my manager,” Selena said. “No hard feel‐
ings,” she stared Maeve down, and Maeve felt sure Selena meant the
opposite.
Maeve had had a number of successes, and most of those songs
were somewhat rage-inspired. Hers and Frank’s relationship had been
full of ups and downs, and she’d always pulled inspiration from her
own life.
She’d received a request for a love song with some sort of child‐
hood inspired metaphor, and Maeve had come up with the embar‐
rassing disaster that was Hopscotch. The song had flopped terribly, but
Maeve had never made the connection that Selena from Jenny Loves
Charlie was the woman who’d purchased the song. Frank had handled
all of the negotiations for her with that particular deal, so she’d not
even met the singer and had only heard her name once or twice in
passing.
“No, that ruined your music career!” Maeve almost felt like crying.
“It was so awful!”
Selena just smiled. “Really, Maeve, it’s all right.”
Maeve felt so embarrassed she wished she could evaporate into
the air.
Her mother tapped her shoulder. “Maeve, I’m a little parched.
Getting a little old for these sorts of parties. Would you fetch me some
punch?”
“Sure, Mom,” Maeve said, grateful for the excuse to leave Selena’s
presence. She knew Selena was faking the friendly. Maeve could feel
the resentment coming off the woman in waves.
How humiliating!
Well, Maeve thought as she headed toward the punch table, there
are worse things in the world!
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter Three
MAEVE
Maeve felt overwhelmingly fabulous that evening as she
and her mother exited a limo in front of the enormous
luxury hotel. Music blared from the large pool-side balcony onto the
street, and the base made her chest pound.
Damien and Emma had been left behind at the apartment, but
Wanda tagged along. She was right at their side freshly bathed and
wearing a purple bow on her head that matched both her collar and
the form-fitting, floor-length gown that Maeve wore.
Her mother, always the fashionista, was decked out in an orange
gown that accented her hourglass figure. The woman also wore a
stylish hat that matched, and her shoulders were draped with a
light-weight orange, silky shawl.
After getting through security, Fiona hooked arms with Maeve
and squealed as they entered the party.
Maeve gasped as she looked around. This was a significantly
nicer party than any of the crummy LA shindigs her ex had brought
her to back in the day. These were some A-list actors and
producers.
“Whoa,” Maeve said. “Mom, how did you score an invite to this
party?”
“I was on the show once,” she said. “As a guest star sharing one of
my recipes. The show is celebrating its twenty-five-year anniversary.”
“What season were you on?” Maeve asked curiously.
“Season two – first episode,” her mother said proudly. “Ooh, come
on, come on – I see Chef Massimo! I must introduce you to him …
you too, Wanda.”
Wanda yelped playfully, and the three of them headed to where a
small crowd had formed.
“Fiona!” the tall, older gentleman said, breaking away from the
group to give Maeve’s mother a proper greeting, “I didn’t expect to see
you here. I heard you were in Italy.”
“I was, but who could miss one of your parties?” Fiona said, and
then waved in Maeve’s direction. “This is my daughter, Maeve, and
her sidekick Wanda.”
“I love dogs …” His voice broke off unexpectedly, and he glanced
nervously around the room. “I’m surprised security let you bring her
in here.”
“You know how convincing I can be, darling,” Fiona said, flirta‐
tiously tapping his shoulder.
He laughed. “Oh, I know.” He reached his hand out to shake
Maeve’s. “A pleasure. Do you watch the show, Maeve?”
“I’ve seen a few episodes. In the Kitchen with Massimo Esposito,
right?” Maeve asked, and the man nodded proudly.
One of the women who’d been chatting with Massimo, before
Fiona had interrupted them, broke away from the group. She was an
elegant Asian woman dressed to the nine’s in a slim fitting
sequin-studded gown. “Massimo, who’s your friend?”
“Mae Lin, you remember Fiona, right? All the way back to season
two?” Massimo asked.
“Of course,” Mae Lin said. “My first episode was episode one of
season two as your sous chef.”
“That’s right,” Massimo said. “Season one I was all by my lonesome
before the show decided to add some female flair to the show.”
“They made a great choice,” Maeve said. “You’ve got some great
insight, Mae Lin.”
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“Well, aren’t you just darling?” Mae Lin said, grinning. She turned
away from Maeve and purred at Massimo, “Massimo, there are some
guests wanting to congratulate you out by the pool.”
“Coming,” he said and then looked at Fiona with a smile. “Come
and enjoy yourselves. The food is out by the pool.”
“Yum,” Fiona said.
Together they linked arms and headed toward the elevators that
took them up to the pool deck overlooking downtown LA. With the
crisp fall air that evening, the party was fairly tame –and despite the
heated pool, no guest dared a dip.
“They don’t want get their hair wet,” Fiona said, as if reading
Maeve’s mind.
Maeve gave her mom a friendly poke in the ribs. “Well, it probably
took them a lot longer to get ready than it did you.”
Fiona smirked and wiggled her eyebrows at Maeve.
As they approached the pool, Maeve said, “I love the architecture
in this building.”
The hotel had a slight curve with random decks such as the one
hosting the pool jutting out in all directions.
“It’s gives me a bit of vertigo,” Fiona complained.
Maeve sniffed the air. “Whoa, that food smells divine.”
Fiona nodded. “Pumpkin spice meets cinnamon meets …? What is
that other smell, buttered popcorn?”
Maeve shrugged. “I think I smell meatballs.”
Wanda yapped excitedly.
There were two large tables on either side of the enormous deck
that was currently swarming with people. The food, Maeve learned,
were all samplings of what to expect in the upcoming season. She and
her mother made themselves a plate and found a seat on one of the
white table-cloth-draped tables near the railing.
“This is quite a view!” Fiona pointed. “You can see my old apart‐
ment from here.”
Wanda whimpered at Maeve’s feet, and Maeve slipped Wanda a
chicken skewer dripping in peanut satay sauce under the table.
Maeve silently wondered if peanuts were okay to give to a dog, but
the dog wolfed down the food so quickly, she wasn’t able to pull it
away.
“So, Mom, I was thinking …” Maeve said. “How long do you think
you’ll be in the states?”
“Not long, But I’ll come back next month … probably,” she said.
“My tour ends mid-month.”
Maeve smiled. “I have a spare room in Wisteria Pines. You should
come.”
“Two witches in a small-town?” Fiona asked, leaning in and wink‐
ing. “Sounds positively divine!”
“Awesome!” Maeve exclaimed. She hadn’t seen much of her
mother lately, and truth be told, her mother’s tour had come at a
rather pivotal point in Maeve’s life. She really needed her mom right
now. Her ex running off with some woman, her abrupt change in
location, and her sudden career change were all things she would have
liked to have had her mom around for.
Not to mention, now the police expected foul play regarding
Frank’s disappearance, and that had her conflicted on so many
different levels. Sometimes it was just nice to have your mom to talk
to – no matter how old you got.
“Fiona!” a man’s voice called. “I thought I recognized that face.”
My mom is more famous than I realized, Maeve thought with
amusement.
A handsome man strutted toward them, a woman on his arm. Her
mom stood to greet him, so Maeve did the same. Her mother intro‐
duced the man as Edgar, the show’s producer, and the woman on his
arm was his wife of fifteen years. While standing there talking to
Edgar and his wife Laura, Maeve learned that they’d met on set
during the show’s tenth season – Laura had been a new hire for the
show. The next thing Maeve knew, they were talking to her mother
about coming back and doing another episode.
“Oh, absolutely!” Fiona said, and she and the producer hugged
before he and his wife disappeared back into the crowd of partygoers.
After enjoying their food, and feeding Wanda way too much, the
two women mingled. She couldn’t get over how Wanda refused to eat
dog food, like she was a picky human. Maeve was happy to schmooze
with the Hollywood elite. She hadn’t given any thought to her song‐
writing in a while and being in the mix in LA, gave her a creative
boost.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two Continued
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss part one Chapter Two?
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter Two Continued…
“I’m your mother, darling. Of course, I knew.” The woman again
reaches to scratch my head, but she can’t reach me from where she’s
sitting.
I’m keeping my distance from the rat.
I hate rats.
“And yet, you’ve picked up a couple of animal companions, I see,”
her mother says. “Hey there, puppy dog, I’m Fiona. Nice to meet you.”
Fiona. Sounds like a witch name to me. “That’s Wanda,” Maeve
says. “And the bird is Damien.”
“Hmm … Emma is getting pretty old to be a witch’s companion. I
might need to find myself a new pet,” Fiona says, and Damien
abruptly stands upright and squawks. Fiona laughs. “I do like birds.
Why do you have a raven, Maeve?”
“Would you believe it stowed away in my car?”
Fiona laughs. “Feisty! I like it.” Fiona looks at me, and suddenly she
leans in close and stares me down like she’s studying me. “Interesting
…”
“What?” Maeve asks.
“Your dog … there’s magick there,” she says.
I stand upright and wag my tail. Holy crap!
I love this woman!
This is just what I need – a witch who gets me.
If Fiona can figure me out, then that would bring me one step
closer to breaking this stupid curse. I bark, and Maeve smiles.
“Yeah, well … I did see her do this crazy bark thing once. Knocked
a woman clear off her feet. But, I wasn’t sure if it was Wanda or if
maybe it had been me working through Wanda, if that makes sense?”
“You’re not an animal drawn witch like me, sweetheart, you can’t
do that,” Fiona says. “For witches like me, who require animal
companions, certain animals are drawn to us. Rats, ravens, black
cats, certain dog breeds … though I’ve never seen a witch’s
companion quite like Wanda. Too … cute … but even if that dog is a
potential witch’s companion, I can’t imagine why she would be
following a witch around like you who pulls her magick from
scent.”
“You got me,” Maeve says. “I even tried taking her to an animal
shelter, and she escaped and walked an hour back to my house. She’s
kind of become my buddy, though.”
“Something must be wrong,” Fiona says. “Maybe …” the woman
stands and comes over to me. She kneels down and starts petting me,
and then, this freak of nature sniffs me. What the heck? Woman, I
know I don’t smell good. I’m a dog for crying out loud!
“Huh,” Fiona says. “Maeve, I think this dog might be suffering from
some sort of curse.”
What! What! What! Yes!
I bark and lick her old lady face.
This is just the kind of break I need. Two months following Maeve
around, and all I really needed was Maeve’s mother. I knew I had felt
drawn to Wisteria Pines for a reason. If I hadn’t met Maeve, I would
have never found this glorious woman right here. Maybe Fiona is
going to be the key to breaking Selena’s spell.
“Cursed?” Maeve asks, rising from her seat. “You think someone
put a curse on my dog? Who would curse a dog?”
“I don’t know, but I can sense that something’s not quite right,”
Fiona says, petting me. “Maybe that’s why she latched onto you? I
can’t imagine there are a lot of witches in Wisteria Pines. You’re
probably the only one. She needs a witch to break her curse, and
the only one she could find was you.”
Yes, that is exactly what happened! You wonderful, wonderful woman!
Now, fix me!
“Well, can you help her?” Maeve asks.
Yes, can you?
“I don’t know,” Fiona says. “I don’t know what sort of curse the
dog is under. She seems fine, but I can certainly sense magick on her.
If we can find out who cursed her or what sort of curse it is, we can
try to find a way to break it.”
Yes, do that! Do it now!
“Poor Wanda,” Maeve says as Fiona stands up.
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Fiona insists and waves her hand like
it’s nothing to worry about.
But, it is
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This crap is time sensitive.
“So, Maeve,” Fiona says with a twirl, rapidly changing the subject.
“I was invited to a little soiree this evening. I want us to go together!”
“An LA party?” Maeve asks, as though this sounds like the worst
idea she’s ever heard. “I don’t know, Mom. Frank used to drag me to
those sorts of things all the time, and I never really cared for them.”
“Let me pitch it to you before you say no,” Fiona says with a grin.
Maeve groans. “Ugh, you’re pitching me a party. That is so LA. I
already know this is a bad idea.”
Maeve’s mom laughs, and wraps an arm over Maeve’s shoulder.
“It’s a party celebrating In the Kitchen with Massimo Esposito’s latest
successful season. And, the food there is expected to be positively
divine!”
“I do like good food,” Maeve says with a grin. “But, I don’t have
anything fancy enough for a Hollywood glam party. I packed light for
the trip, you know?”
“Darling, when have you ever known your mother not to have an
ample supply of party attire on her person?” Fiona questions.
“You think you have something that will fit me?” Maeve asks.
“Oh, definitely not,” Fiona says. “But, that’s nothing a little magick
can’t fix. Oh, it’s so fun now that you know about the world of
magick! I can’t wait to show you this spell. So easy, and it makes
online shopping much less stressful not having to worry about acci‐
dentally buying the wrong size!”
Maeve smiles so hard, she practically glows. “A spell that makes
your clothes fit right? That’s an actual thing?”
“A simple spell, really,” Fiona says with a hand wave. “After I show
you that one, I’ll have to teach you how to swap colors on your garbs
too.”
“Who knew magick could help you become more fashionable?”
“Remember that stage performance of mine you went to in New
York when you were ten?” Fiona asks, and Maeve nods. “That quick
change in Act Two was done using a little spell my grandmother
taught me. You know how much I love fashion, my dear. If there’s
ever something magical you want to try involving clothing, just let me
know because I guarantee you I have a spell for it!”
The two women scurry off to pick out a dress for Maeve to wear
to this party, and I slump down on the kitchen floor.
I try not to get too bitter about them moving on from talking
about me so quickly.
This is a good step forward. Maeve knows I’m cursed now – even
if she doesn’t know how to fix it – and her mom is here, and she’s
obviously a much more advanced witch than Maeve.
“Chuck, isn’t this great?” Damien asks me from where he’s perched
on the counter. “Fiona might make me her animal companion!”
“I’m not dead yet, don’t even try it, bird-boy,” the old lady rat hisses
from the counter. The creepy looking thing walks toward Damien
with its skeletal looking tail swaying about.
I shiver. I really hate rats.
Aren’t rats a bad omen …?
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two
Did you miss Chapter One?
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter Two
CHUCK
And, so the adventure continues. I’m still in the body of a
female dog, thanks to the curse of a psychotic, revengeful
witch. The next full moon, my one time of the month I’m allowed to
walk around in my glorious man bod, is two days away, and Maeve
has dragged me off to LA.
Oh, what a joy to be back in the stupid city where I got cursed in
the first place!
Whatever.
Maeve shrieks as she opens the trunk of her Volkswagen, so I bolt
out of the car to check things out. She’s my only chance at becoming a
man again on a permanent basis, so anything bad for Maeve is bad for
me. Last thing I need is my only lifeline getting hurt!
Plus, I’m a little in love with her.
That’s when I see Maeve picking up a large, black bird.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Damien, my new sidekick, has apparently
decided to stow away on our trip.
“Damien, you idiot,” I say.
My little raven buddy squawks slightly. “It sure was hot in there!”
“No, really?” I snap, laying into him for his absolute stupidity while
Maeve fawns over him.
He does look pretty pathetic.
She grabs her bag, and we head into the hotel and up a flight of
stairs while she mumbles about getting him into some air condi‐
tioning.
“What do you think you are doing here?” I ask while he looks down at
me from over Maeve’s shoulder.
“I thought you could use some help. The next full moon is only a few days
away, right?” he says, sounding unsure of himself.
“Don’t remind me. I’m already down to eleven more full moons before
this curse becomes permanent, and Maeve still has no idea her loveable pooch
is a grown man!” I snarl.
Suddenly, my doggie senses go on high alert. I can hear footsteps
behind the closed door of Maeve’s hotel room, and music. My ears
shoot up, my fur standing on end.
Maeve freezes.
Oh, Maeve, darling, I will totally be your knight in shining armor
if you need me to be!
The look on Maeve’s face turns from scared to annoyed.
“I bet check-in made a mistake and they double booked this room,”
she mumbles pulling out her keycard.
I growl.
You can never be too careful, especially now that we’re back in LA
—the same town where a witch turned me into a dog. For all I know,
Selena’s on the other side of that door.
Maeve taps the card to the key reader and the door flings open. I
run between Maeve’s legs and slide into the apartment, my teeth
showing in case we’re greeted by some hobo who managed to sneak
into the hotel. Instead, there’s a crazy looking woman dancing around
in bare feet.
The woman is singing, and I have to say she’s got some talent on
that end. Her black hair is pulled up in a tight bun, a few silver strands
giving away her age. While she sways to the blasting music, not
noticing our presence, the bangles around her wrists and ankles
jingle.
“Mom!” Maeve calls out excitedly, throwing her suitcase down.
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The woman spins around, looking stunned. “Maeve! What are you
doing here!” She slaps the top of a stereo sitting on the counter,
turning off the music, and sprints over. Her face is youthful, and I
guess that she simply looks younger than she actually must be to be
Maeve’s mom. She’s got a great smile and a sexy style that would
probably make those guys that hunt cougars go crazy.
“Mom, you’re back in the states? What the heck!” Maeve cries out
happily, giving her mother a hug while still holding Damien over her
shoulder like a sick baby.
“You know the old lady?” Damien asks me.
I shrug.
The woman embraces Maeve, then says. “Sorry, dear. I know I
should have called you, but I got your email about having to come to
LA this weekend, and I had some business here too, so I thought I’d
surprise you.”
Maeve hugs her mom again. “I didn’t think I was going to get to
see you until the holidays.”
“Same,” her mom says with a huge grin on her face. “I hope this
was a pleasant surprise?”
“Absolutely, I’m so glad you’re here!” Maeve says, setting Damien
down on the counter. “Let me get this poor guy some water, and I’ll
catch you up.”
Maeve’s mom gives Damien the once-over with her eyes before
asking Maeve, “Have you heard anything from Frank, by the way? Or,
is that dirtbag still AWOL?”
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Maeve says and then launches into a
long story about how the police department had insisted on her
coming out to talk about the missing persons case. Their conversation
drifts from what a jerk Frank is, to being somewhat worried about
him, to Maeve asking her mom about her singing tour in Italy, and
her mother asking about the café back in Wisteria Pines. I learn that
her mother has just recently dumped her latest boyfriend – the one
who booked her the Italy tour to begin with—and I now am ques‐
tioning how Maeve turned out to be so well put-together with this
woman as an influence.
I find myself becoming distracted. I smell food, and now I can’t
think of anything else. What is wrong with me! I’m becoming more
and more like a dog with every passing of the full moon, and it sucks.
I can’t concentrate on anything when I smell food.
While I’m sniffing the air, I feel a hand on my head. Maeve’s
mother is scratching me behind my ears. My tail wags uncontrollably,
and she slips me a cracker – apparently that was what I was smelling.
“Okay, Mom, we need to talk,” Maeve says, plopping down on one
of the bar stools. “About that book you gave me.” She sets the book
down on the counter.
“Oh, goody!” her mother exclaims. “Have you had a chance to read
it yet?”
“Mom, are you a witch?” Maeve asks outright.
“Well, I thought that one was fairly obvious,” her mother says,
laughing. “Oh, hold on a moment.” The woman reaches into her
pocket and … pulls out a rat. A freaking rat! What strange reality have
I just found myself thrown into in which old ladies carry around
creepy looking rats in their pockets?
I jump back about a foot as this woman puts the rat down.
“Oh, wow!” Maeve cries out and picks the creepy looking black
thing up like it’s a freaking Guinea pig. “Emma! She’s still alive?”
“Getting old,” her mother says. “But, she’s still kicking.”
“It’s a freakin’ rat!” I yelp, but they, of course, cannot understand
me. “Quit petting it like it’s a teacup poodle!”
Then I hear Emma’s voice for the first time—ah, the joys of being
cursed—and it’s the most stereotypical old lady voice I’ve ever heard.
“I may be just a rat, but I bet I’m more pampered than you, you mutt,”
Emma says.
“So … you have an animal companion?” Maeve questions her
mother. “Like what the book says?”
“Oh, so you’ve been reading! Very good! Yes, I do. Some witches
require animal companions to channel their powers. You’re a
scent-powered witch though, yes?”
“You knew?” Maeve says.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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Brewing Up Murder (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Three) Sneak Peek – Chapter One Continued
Did you miss part one of Chapter One?
From Brewing up Murder
Chapter One Continued…
The server brought Maeve her drink and took her order quickly
before disappearing again. Maeve continued skimming through the
book. Some of the spells were very easy and only required an incanta‐
tion while others were much more complicated and required potions
or some sort of sacrifice on the witch’s part.
Toward the back of the book, there was a list of rules and regula‐
tions for practicing magick, the first of which forbade the use of black
magick.
“Interesting,” Maeve said. “I wonder who makes these rules? And
… what qualifies as black magick?”
The server appeared, placing a plate of bacon and eggs down in
front of Maeve. Wanda whined, and Maeve gave her a piece of
bacon, and the hash browns. Then order an entire side of sausages
for Wanda. The dog nearly shook herself silly wolfing down the
food.
Maeve ate while perusing the book, the question of black magick
lingering in her mind.
Why would anyone ever want to practice black magick anyhow?
Well, there certainly was evil in the world. Maeve couldn’t deny
that. So, she supposed that evil witches shouldn’t surprise her.
After paying, Maeve and Wanda climbed back into the Volkswagen
and hit the road again. When they finally arrived at the Los
Angeles police department Wanda followed her inside. Maeve
introduced herself to a uniformed officer at the reception window,
and the man informed her that the station’s senior officer, Officer
Gary Wolfe, was working the missing persons case.
After a few minutes, a large burly man ambled down the hallway
and introduced himself.
“Maeve O’Dare, we appreciate you coming out this way,” the man
began.
“Not like I had much of a choice,” Maeve said, then immediately
regretted it as she watched the Officer’s face turn from friendly to
annoyed.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” she said “It’s been a long day for me. I’m staying
in town, and I was hoping we could maybe chat tomorrow. I only
wanted to pop in to let you know I was here and that I want to
cooperate with your investigation as much as I can.”
Officer Wolfe nodded. “I understand.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s
pretty late in the afternoon. Are you staying locally?”
“I’m staying at the DoubleTree just down the street from here,”
Maeve said.
“Alright. Check in with me tomorrow morning. Say 9 am?”
“I will,” Maeve said.
They shook hands, and Maeve and Wanda headed out of the police
station. They drove a short distance to the DoubleTree hotel. It was
the closest hotel that allowed dogs, and it had beach access, an added
bonus.
They pulled up front where a valet waited to take her car to the
hotel’s parking garage. Maeve got out of the Volkswagen and went
around to open the passenger side door for Wanda.
“I’ve been told we get freshly baked chocolate chips cookies here,”
Maeve said, making small talk with the valet.
“Yes, ma’am!” he said. “On your pillow.”
“Yummy,” she said, pressing the button that opened the truck.
As she did so, a large black bird squawked, “Nevermore!” in a weak
voice.
The valet shrieked and cursed slightly under his breath in his
surprise.
“Damien?” Maeve cried out. Wanda ran around to investigate, and
the dog looked just as surprised as Maeve felt. Damien was the name
of the raven that lived outside her house in Wisteria Pines. How it had
managed to get into her car, she had no idea.
“You poor thing! Have you been in there all day?” Maeve nervously
reached toward the bird. It was a wild animal, so she wasn’t sure how
it would react to being held. She knew that this was the bird that
perched outside her home because she’d worked tirelessly at teaching
it to say Nevermore.
The enormous raven allowed her to pick him up, and it curled its
head against her chin.
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“Oh!” Mave cooed, enjoying the soft feathers tickling her face.
“Let’s get you inside and blast the air conditioner, you crazy bird!
And, get you some water! I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I managed to
lock you in my trunk!” She handed the confused valet her car keys,
holding the bird with one hand while snatching the handle of her
suitcase with the other. Wanda followed close behind. From the looks
the bird and Wanda kept giving each other, it seemed like they were
having a conversation, and it made Maeve giggle.
If only animals could talk.
Maeve quickly checked herself in, casting a little spell to make the
woman working the front desk stop asking about the bird. Dogs were
permitted, untamed ravens were another story.
“You’re already checked in,” the woman said, and Maeve frowned.
“I just got here. How can I already be checked in?” Maeve
questioned.
The woman looked at her blankly, so Maeve figured perhaps her
spell had confused her. Maeve accepted the keycard and headed
toward the elevator, taking it up to the top floor of the building.
“When we get inside, I’m going to need to check you over,
Damien! I can’t believe you’ve been in that hot trunk all day,” Maeve
said, still a bit surprised at how tame the bird was in her arms.
It’s probably half dead, Maeve thought, her stomach churning.
They walked down the hallway to her corner.
Just as Maeve was about to open the door, Wanda growled. The
dog’s ears perked up, and her hair stood on end.
“What is it, girl?” Maeve asked, and then she heard music blaring
on the other side of the door.
Maeve jolted upright, anxiety zipping up her spine.
Is someone in my room?
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF BREWING UP MURDER HERE
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May 31, 2021
I Wanda put a Spell on You (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter One
From I Wanda put a Spell on you
Chapter One
Maeve
The opening night crowd at Maeve’s café, Listen: It’s Old
Fashioned, buzzed in a loud continuous noisy cadence that
made Maeve’s heart sing. A few short weeks ago, searching for some
normalcy and a new way of life, she’d blasted out of Hollywood and
found Wisteria Pines. The café had only been a dream. Now business
was popping, and she’d run dangerously low on pastries. Donnie, her
only employee, was in the back attempting to follow a muffin recipe,
which left her waiting tables and appeasing the hungry crowd.
“Okay, we got two double shot espressos and a scotch,” Gracie
called out from behind the counter.
Thank God for Gracie, Maeve thought with a smile. Gracie, Maeve’s
friend and landlord, had volunteered to help out for opening night. At
first, Maeve had refused the offer thinking the opening would be
slow, but now she was glad Gracie had been so insistent.
Maeve swept up the drinks and sashayed to a corner booth where
Bobby Farley chatted with his suited companions. Maeve feared she
hadn’t exactly made a great first impression with him, what with her
accusing him of murder a few weeks ago. But the man had actually
turned out to be a decent human being.
“All righty boys, drink up,” Maeve said, putting a hand on Bobby’s
shoulder. “Thanks for dragging your buddies away from your regular
bar for a night to come out and support me, Bobby.”
Bobby smiled. “Hey, darling, I’m always ready to support the local
businesses. And, if you continue to serve scotch, I think my fellas
would be willing to do the same.”
“If I can get my alcohol permit approved by Mayor James, I will,”
Maeve griped. “I only have a temporary license for the weekend, and
the city’s playing a lot of phone tag with me. I ran into James last night
and he promised to take care of it, but when I called him today he kept
forwarding my calls.”
“That sounds like James,” Bobby said.
Maeve sighed. “Well, I’ll keep trying. Anything else I can get for
you, Bobby?”
“We’ll order another round of scotch in a few minutes… but do me
a favor… get Gracie to bring us those drinks.” He winked, his eyes
lingering toward the barista station where Gracie was standing.
Gracie was tall and slender, dressed in an off-the shoulder red
halter top that would make any man sit up and pay attention.
Maeve nodded and tried to hold back a smile. “Will do, Bobby.”
She spun around to head back toward the counter when Chuck
Lowry—the former star of the flopped sitcom Jenny Loves Charlie—
bumped right into her. She frowned. She hadn’t expected to run into
any Hollywood types in Wisteria Pines and especially not in her café.
Since the moment he’d walked in, the man hadn’t seemed to leave her
side. He was everywhere she turned.
Chuck was Hollywood handsome, with a chiseled jaw and overly
white teeth. The way he strutted around the café, Maeve could tell he
had the ego to go with the looks.
But who knew a man like Chuck Lowry could be such a nuisance?
He was simply dying for her attention. He let his dirty blonde
hair fall slightly in his face just so he could sweep it to the side and
give her this cockeyed, lustful gaze that probably worked on most
women.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
He winked at her. “Another drink, beautiful.”
“Coming right up,” she said, trying her hardest not to sound
annoyed. He was a customer, after all, no matter how obnoxious.
She returned to the barista station and poured Chuck’s Irish
coffee. When she served him his drink, he smiled and flexed a bicep
at her.
Maeve stifled a giggle.
Does he even realize how ridiculous he is? she wondered.
“So, what are you doing in Wisteria Pines anyways?” Maeve asked.
“Just passing through,” he said. “Got a new show I’m producing. I
could’ve flown, but I like the idea of a road trip. Unfortunately, I
broke down right outside of town.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Maeve said.
Liar, she thought. There was a shifty look in his eyes that gave him
away.
What a strange thing to lie about.
On stage, Officer Joseph played his guitar and serenaded them.
Maeve glanced in his direction and found herself listening to the
music rather than whatever it was Chuck was babbling about.
Since arriving in town, Maeve had helped Joseph solve a murder
case, and now she found herself thinking murderous thoughts as she
watched the women in the crowd fawn all over him. He plucked the
final chord, thanked everyone for their applause, and headed over to
the counter. Maeve hurried away from Chuck to meet Joseph at the
barista station.
Joseph sure is handsome, Maeve thought. It wasn’t the same kind of
handsome as Chuck. Joseph had a sweetness to him, where Chuck
was way too cocky. Maeve knew she needed to avoid Chuck like the
plague.
Joseph drummed his finger on the barista counter. “Well, Maeve,
it’s been fun. But I think it’s time for me to retire for the night.”
She grinned. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you played one of my
songs.”
Joseph laughed. “Well, you are one of the most talented song‐
writers I’ve ever met,” he said, his cheeks turning pink.
Maeve laughed. “And you’ve met how many exactly?”
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Joseph grinned. “Never mind that. What did you think? Did I do
okay with your song?”
“Better than okay,” she said. They shared an awkward silent
moment, and Maeve found herself hoping Joseph would ask her out.
He’d been flirtatious toward her since she’d first arrived, but things
had gotten a little hairy when she’d inserted herself into his last inves‐
tigation. So far, nothing had come of their flirty banter, but now that
things were settling down, she hoped that would change.
Instead, Joseph said, “And I hate to remind you, but make sure you
call the LAPD tomorrow; they need your statement about Frank
D’Angelo.”
Distress burned at Maeve’s stomach as she thought of ex-fiancé,
Frank. The break-up with Frank had been one of the main reasons
she’d left Hollywood. All this time she’d been worried about him,
wondering how he could disappear without a trace, and now it turned
out he’d taken off to Mexico with a redheaded Uber driver.
Maeve nodded at Joseph. “Yes, I’ll definitely call them. Thank you
for the reminder.”
He smiled warmly at her. “Congratulations on the grand opening,
Maeve. I’m proud of you.” His eyes darted toward Chuck, and he stiff‐
ened. Chuck had insulted Joseph earlier, and Maeve figured Joseph
was ready to take off after the embarrassing remark. Joseph took a
step toward the front door and waved at her. “I’ll let you get back to
work.”
Maeve brought Chuck his drink. “Anything else?” she asked,
having to bite her tongue to keep from being short with him.
“No, I’m good. Thank you, Maeve,” he said.
Maeve peered around him to see that Penny, Gracie’s nine-year-old
niece, had seated herself on the other side of Chuck. She was
holding her cat, Tonya, and talking to the man—thanking him for
returning her cat. Maeve thought about her own dog, Wanda, whom
she’d left at home that evening with Tonya the cat.
If Tonya was out wandering the streets, I sure hope Wanda didn’t get out
of the house also.
She shook the worry off. She reminded herself that her pooch had
proven herself perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Wanda was a
smart dog, and since she’d been a stray before Maeve had found her,
she knew Wanda was used to roaming freely.
More like she found me, Maeve thought with a grin as she recalled
how she’d first met her beloved dog. Somehow Wanda had gotten into
her car and was sitting in the passenger’s seat waiting for her.
On the way back to the counter, Maeve ran into Rodney. He
presented her with a carefully wrapped gift, complete with a congrat‐
ulatory card.
“I’ve been told purple is your favorite color,” he said. “Which
would explain the purple Volkswagen you drive.”
Maeve blushed as she opened the gift to reveal a small, purple
plaque with the café’s opening date etched in golden lettering along
with the café’s name Listen: It’s Old Fashioned.
“Oh, wow, Rodney. Thank you!” Maeve said.
“Well, I wanted to bring you a little opening night gift,” he said.
Behind Rodney was a group of women swooning over him.
Maeve wiggled her fingers at the group of ladies, who seemed
eager to eavesdrop on her and Rodney’s conversation.
Maeve’s first interaction with Rodney a few weeks ago had been
challenging. He’d been rude to her and had yanked her dog by the
ears, told Maeve she wasn’t a real celebrity, and then even had the
audacity to ask her to dinner. But when he’d tried to strike her dog,
Maeve had lost it. She’d grabbed him by the arm. And just like that, a
ray of purple magick had swirled out of her and into Rodney.
Ever since then, he’s been acting like Prince Charming to everyone in
town, Maeve thought. People were starting to talk about him and take
notice. Everyone wondered how the local grouch had turned into
Wisteria Pines’ very own saint, but whenever someone mentioned
Rodney to Maeve, she felt a slight pang of guilt–she had, after all,
unintentionally affected his personality.
She hustled toward the counter, saying over her shoulder. “Thank
you, Rodney. I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, and here,” he said, pulling a CD from his suit pocket. “I
noticed, now that Joseph is gone, there isn’t any music. Gracie says
you guys can play CDs over the speakers if you want. I went out to the
car and grabbed this.”
Maeve looked down at the CD and cringed. Nina Simone’s rendi‐
tion of I Put a Spell on You was the title track.
Surely it’s not a coincidence that Rodney would give me this.
Guilt flooded her belly once more.
Is there a way to reverse what I did to him? Maeve wondered.
It had been a while since she had cast the spell on him. She’d hoped
it would wear off on its own. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure how she
had done it in the first place, so the thought of trying to reverse it was
intimidating.
Maeve thanked Rodney and then quickly scooted around him.
Once behind the counter she gave Gracie the plaque and CD. “See if I
still have my tool kit in the back, and I’ll hang up the plaque. And can
you go ahead and pop in the CD?”
“Sure thing,” Gracie said, disappearing into the back as Donnie
entered with fresh muffins.
The scent of freshly baked chocolate chip muffins ignited the air.
Maeve admired the tray Donnie held. “Looking good,” she told him.
“Thank you, Ms. O’Dare.” Donnie smiled. “It’s important for me to
do a good job. I mean, really. No one else in town will hire me. No
one trusts me after, well, you know …”
She knew he was referring to his armed robbery. At the end of the
day, Maeve and the majority of non-judgmental people in Wisteria
Pines all seemed to agree that Donnie was just a kid who had made
one very bad decision. His little punk rocker look didn’t really help
his bad boy reputation, but it only took a person a few minutes of
actually speaking to Donnie to realize he was a softie.
Maeve took the muffins and put them in the counter display case.
“Donnie, you’re a good kid. Everyone deserves a second chance. And
you’re doing great. You showed up just in time to help when I needed
you most. Go check in with all the guests and see if anyone needs any
drinks. Let everyone know we have fresh muffins.”
“Will do!” he said, scurrying into the crowd of patrons.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF I WANDA PUT A SPELL ON YOU HERE
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I Wanda put a Spell on You (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three Continued . . .
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Three?
From I Wanda put a Spell on you
Chapter Three Continued . . .
She entered the main area of the café and almost fell over in shock
at the crowd. There were rows of cars in the parking lot, and the line
was out the door.
“Oh dear,” she said to herself, realizing she’d given anyone within a
mile of the café a serious coffee craving.
I’m going to have to tell Gracie to watch where she sprays her perfume,
Maeve thought and got right to work.
Maeve and Donnie made a great team. He worked the register and
was actually much more of a people person than Maeve had expected.
He was kind to everyone, working fast while also asking politely how
so-and-so was doing–holding friendly conversations with each
patron. Maeve worked rapidly at preparing complicated drink orders
and occasionally slipping into the back to check on whatever muffin
or snack cake they had baking in the oven.
For the next two hours, Maeve and Donnie both remained on
their feet before the crowd slowly dispersed.
A few stragglers remained behind to sit and enjoy their coffee, but
she and Donnie were about ready to collapse come eleven o’clock.
“How about a coffee on me?” Maeve offered. “I’m impressed,
Donnie. You didn’t let that crazy rush trip you up at all.”
He smiled. “Thanks. And I would love some coffee … and maybe
just a minute to sit in the back and get off my feet? I think I’m going to
pass out!” He laughed.
“Sounds good,” Maeve said, pouring him a caramel cappuccino.
“Take ten or whatever you need. Grab anything you want to eat.”
“Thanks, Maeve.” He took a sip of the cappuccino and grinned.
“I’ve been craving one of these for two hours now, but we got so
busy!”
He grabbed a ham and cheese pinwheel, a blueberry muffin, a
chocolate chip scone, and a pumpkin spice tart. For a moment Maeve
regretting offering a teen-age boy anything he wanted to eat.
Donnie flashed her a sheepish grin. “I’m hungry.”
Maeve laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know, growing boy. Now get out of
my sight before I regret feeding you.”
He disappeared into the back with his handful of treats.
Maeve took a deep breath. Now that things had slowed down, she
had a moment to think. She realized the morning was about gone and
that Chuck Lowry hadn’t made his promised appearance. She prob‐
ably should have expected that from someone like him. She’d left L.A.
to get away from the Hollywood types.
Nothing but men who make broken promises out that way.
As she was pondering all the reasons Chuck Lowry might have
forgotten his promise to return, he entered the shop.
“Well, I’ll be,” Maeve said under her breath and stood upright
behind the counter.
He smiled as he approached, and her nose suddenly tingled. She
quickly covered her nose and mouth with her hands. “Oh! God, what
is that smell?” she asked as he stood right in front of her.
He blushed. “Well, um … I’ve been helping an older gentleman
named Tommy Ether at his farm this morning. A … um … a cow gave
birth this morning. I played catcher.”
“Oh! That’s just lovely!” Maeve said and then laughed, still
covering her mouth and nose. “I’m so sorry, but … you really stink.”
“I know. It’s been one of those mornings,” Chuck said with an
embarrassed look about him.
“What were you doing helping Mr. Ether on his farm?” Maeve
asked curiously.
“What? You think because I’m a celebrity that I wouldn’t stop to
help an old man birth a calf?” Chuck questioned. “And shovel manure
… And clean out a barn …”
Chuck honestly looked like he was going to pass out reliving his
morning to her.
“You know what, I’m going to call you on it. You’re full of it,”
Maeve said, grinning. “No, Mr. Lowry, I don’t think you are the type
who would pitch in and help some old man on his farm out of the
kindness of your heart. So what really happened to you this
morning?”
“Okay, you got me. I ran into the old guy last night and helped him
walk a cow home that had gotten stuck in a ditch. He fed me dinner,
let me stay at his place, and then I got breakfast too … and apparently
that wasn’t all free. He made me work off my debt,” Chuck said, and
they both laughed.
“That sounds like Tommy,” Maeve said. “I haven’t known him long,
but he will put anybody to work. Can I get you anything?”
“How about a Columbian coffee for the road?” Chuck asked.
“Black.”
“Coming right up,” she said with a smile. “Not sticking around
today?”
“As much as I like this place, it has a bad memory for me,” Chuck
said, and Maeve raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?” she questioned.
“Yeah.” Chuck took a sip of his coffee as soon as she handed it to
him. “This gorgeous woman turned me down for a date last time I was
here.”
Maeve giggled. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“I can be,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m leaving town today. But I’ll
be passing back through in about month. I expect to see Listen: It’s Old
Fashioned running smoothly when I return so that I can enjoy myself
another Irish coffee.”
“We’ll be here,” Maeve said.
Chuck winked at her again before departing. Maeve shook her
head at him. That Chuck Lowry was certainly a character. She sighed
and allowed herself to smile in his general direction as he made his
way out the door.
I guess he’s not so bad, she thought.
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As Chuck exited, Maeve spotted Mayor James come stumbling in
through the door, practically knocking Chuck over in the process.
Right behind him was a woman in a business suit; Maeve assumed it
was James’s new assistant.
“Hey! Easy, buddy!” Chuck griped before leaving.
Maeve watched with a bit of amusement as Chuck double checked
his shirt for coffee stains.
Well, well, well–Mayor James, Maeve thought. “You sure do have
some nerve coming in here,” Maeve said as James plopped down at a
nearby table. “Honestly! Unless you came here to apologize for the
way you’ve been treating me the past week …”
The assistant cut Maeve off. “Please, can you get him some water?”
the woman asked frantically.
There was a sincere look of concern in her eyes that jolted
Maeve.
Maeve took a better look at James. He was wheezing. She hurried
around the counter to pour him a cup of water.
“Susan, I’m fine,” James insisted as the woman took the water from
Maeve. “I just needed to sit down.”
“No, you’re not,” Susan said. “You’re overheated.”
James snatched the water and took several gulps.
“Are you all right?” Maeve asked. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Susan said. “We were on our way to city hall when
he asked the driver to pull over. He’s complaining of chest pains. I
think we should call an ambulance.”
“I said no!” James snapped and slammed the plastic cup down. “I
just got car sick is all.”
“You’re sweating,” Maeve said.
“Listen, O’Dare, I said I’m fine!” he growled. “It’s been a busy
morning. I only need a minute to catch my breath. Susan, why don’t
you get yourself something to eat while we’re here, huh?”
Susan hesitated, looking from the mayor over to the pastry
counter. “Fine,” she said. “But if you don’t start looking better real
soon, I’m calling an ambulance!” She turned to Maeve, and together
the women walked over to the counter. “I guess I’ll have a coffee …
and a cheese Danish, please.”
“Coming right up,” Maeve said. “So, you must be Mayor James’s
new assistant?”
“That would be me, and you must be Maeve O’Dare,” Susan said.
“The one whose calls James keeps making me forward to voicemail.
I’m sorry about that. You must have struck a nerve with him. What
did you do?” she asked in a whisper.
“I helped get his formerly married ex-girlfriend arrested,” Maeve
whispered back, and Susan snorted.
“Don’t worry,” Susan said softly so that the disgruntled mayor
couldn’t hear. “I got your back, hon. I’ll make sure the permit situation
gets sorted out.”
A wave of relief settled over Maeve.
Everything’s going to work out fine, she told herself.
Maeve smiled at the kind stranger. “Thanks! This one’s on the
house, Susan.”
Susan smiled back and thanked her. She took her coffee and
Danish and turned around, to see Mayor James tumble out of his
chair. Susan screamed and dropped her coffee. She ran over to the
crumpled man, yelling, “Call that ambulance!”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF I WANDA PUT A SPELL ON YOU HERE
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I Wanda put a Spell on You (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
From I Wanda put a Spell on you
Chapter Three
MAEVE
Maeve arrived at the café the next morning, surprised to
see five people standing in line in anticipation of its
morning opening.
Maybe I should open earlier, she thought to herself as she jumped out
of her purple Volkswagen.
“Morning, everyone!” she called to the small line. “Just give me a
few minutes to get the café ready, and then I’ll be able to open!”
The group nodded approvingly as Maeve slipped inside her café,
mentally ticking through her opening tasks.
First take down the chairs, she told herself. That way those people out
there can come in and sit down while they wait for me to get the machines
started up.
As she entered, however, she saw that this task had already been
done. “What in the world?” she questioned out loud, but before the
words could finish leaving her lips, she spotted Gracie stepping out of
the back kitchen.
“Morning, sunshine!” Gracie sang. She was dressed in a canary
yellow dress with matching strappy sandals.
“You look like a blast of sunshine yourself,” Maeve said.
Gracie smiled.
“Uh … but Gracie?” Maeve questioned. “How did you get in here?”
“You didn’t change the locks. This was my grandfather’s old knick‐
knack shop, remember?”
Maeve grabbed a flowered apron off a peg and handed it to Gracie.
“You need to cover up if you’re going to bake in that outfit.”
Gracie slipped the apron over her dress. “Right! I need to careful
after last night. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the coffee stain out of my
top.”
“Cold water and vinegar,” Maeve said.
“Vinegar? Really?”
Maeve nodded.
“Good to know,” Gracie said. “I about got the breakfast treats
ready to go. I followed the recipes you had sitting out. There was
some leftover from last night, but I figured you would want a fresh
batch. This place was really popular last night, and I imagined a coffee
shop would do just as well first thing in the morning and that you
might need an extra set of hands. And paws.”
“Paws? Is Wanda here?” Maeve looked frantically about the shop.
Tonya, Penny’s cat peeked around one of the booths. “Hey, Tonya,”
Maeve said, stroking the black cat. The cat stretched and purred to let
her know it appreciated the gesture. “Tonya, you wouldn’t happen to
know what happened to my Wanda, would you?” she asked, and the
cat meowed and sat up.
“Uh-oh, what happened to Wanda?” Gracie asked as she led Maeve
back into the kitchen to show off the prep work she’d already
completed.
As Maeve stepped into the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked
goods greeted her.
“Wanda’s missing,” Maeve said. “My crazy pooch is nowhere to be
seen. I got home late last night, and my house was empty. I mean,
Wanda has always been a bit of a wanderer, but she always comes
back. I didn’t even worry about her last night; I figured she would
come home this morning, but she wasn’t. I’m starting to feel anxious. I
hope nothing bas happened to her.”
A timer went off, so Gracie popped open the oven and pulled out
the fresh blueberry muffins.
“Perfect,” Gracie said under her breath. She placed the tray on to
the counter to let it cool and turned to Maeve. “I’m sure she will find
her way home. She did escape the pound that’s an hour away and
make her way back to your house, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” Maeve laughed at the memory of it. Wanda had
made it clear to her early on that she was not going anywhere. “I’m a
little worried. I probably should have known something was up when
Chuck Lowry walked in with Tonya. He said he found her wandering
around the road, and Tonya had been at my house with Wanda last
night. I must have left the door propped open or something. I could
have sworn I locked up!”
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“There’s no sense worrying yourself right now,” Gracie said. “If
she’s not back by tomorrow, I’ll help you make up some lost dog
posters. Wanda was a stray before you took her in, so I’m sure she’s
roaming around town. She can take care of herself.”
“So, where is Penny?” Maeve asked.
“With her mom. They’re having a girl’s day, and I got stuck
watching her cat,” Gracie said as Tonya twirled around their ankles.
Maeve nodded and thanked her friend again for showing up early
to help. “I should consider putting you on payroll,” Maeve teased as
the two of them finished up the opening duties.
“With the way this place is popping, forget payroll and put me on a
profit share,” Gracie teased. By the time they were finished prepping,
the line outside had doubled in size.
A warm feeling filled Maeve. It’s going to be a good day! She thought.
I can’t believe it’s only my second day, and people are already forming a
line out the door!
She opened the shop, and people swarmed in to get their early
morning coffee before work. Among the crowd was her one actual
employee, Donnie.
Maeve looked at the clock. “Donnie, you don’t have to be here for
another hour?”
Donnie smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s your first full day. Thought I would
show up early and lend a hand.”
Maeve studied the kid. He was far from the punk teenager type he
liked to present himself as. “Thanks, Donnie,” she said, motioning him
behind the counter to take orders.
They worked their way quickly through the crowd of customers
like a well-oiled machine, but shortly after the morning rush, the café
turned into a ghost town.
“Well,” Gracie said, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping that luck
would have continued at least another hour or two.”
“You and me both,” Maeve moaned.
“Forget the profit share,” Gracie joked, lifting the cat off the
counter. “I need to get Tonya back to Penny. I wanted to make sure
you were covered during that morning coffee rush.”
“I really appreciate it, Gracie. You too, Donnie,” Maeve said, as
Gracie bid her farewell and departed. Maeve stood upright. “Well,
looks like it’s going to be you and me for a while, Donnie.”
“Did you ever get that alcohol permit approved?” Donnie asked.
Maeve huffed. “We’re good through the weekend since I managed
to get that temporary one, but I don’t know what I’m going to do
about it now. Mayor James is being a real tool!”
“You think he’s bullying you because you made his affair with
Eleanor public?” Donnie questioned.
“Honestly, yes,” Maeve said. “There is no legitimate reason that
approval for an alcohol permit should be taking this long, and he
keeps brushing me off every time I try to call him or get an appoint‐
ment to speak with him face to face. Besides, I got to know that man
pretty well when I was looking into Nadine’s case, and I don’t care for
anything I learned about him. You realize he tried to throw you under
the bus, right Donnie?”
Donnie grunted. “So I heard. It would have been easy for him. I’m
the town’s black sheep.”
“Not anymore,” Maeve said, placing a reassuring hand on his
shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Everyone else will figure that out soon
enough.”
“Thanks, Ms. O’Dare,” he said.
“Call me Maeve. I’m going to go to the back and work on stocking
the shelves. We never finished that yesterday with all the commotion
of opening night! You man the counter.” She spun around on her
heels.
As Maeve headed to the stock room, she heard music come on
over the loudspeakers. She smiled, glad that Donnie was forward
thinking. She didn’t recognize the punk-rock music he’d put on, but
she found herself tapping her foot to the beat. The café’s edgy theme
was appealing for Donnie’s age group, so Maeve was willing to let the
teen make suggestions such as music. He had good taste.
The flowery smell in the stock room overpowered her as she
entered, and she realized that Gracie had adorned herself with her
strong perfume in the small, enclosed space. Maeve’s nose tickled and
she sneezed. Her fingertips sparked with a slight bit of purple light.
She hadn’t known of her magickal abilities long, but in her brief stud‐
ies, she’d learned that her strength was smoke and scent. Clearly,
Gracie’s makeshift powder room was giving her magick a boost.
Maeve brushed off the rush of power that zipped through her and
began working on unpacking boxes. It was mostly extra mugs, various
boxes of coffee beans, and a hefty supply of scotch.
I sure do wish the place had been a little busier this morning, she
thought to herself and then began to sneeze violently from the smell.
One last sneeze sent a jerk of purple electric magick from her in all
directions, and the room shook for a moment.
“Uh oh,” she muttered to herself. “I wonder what that did …”
She thought of Rodney–her unintended practice dummy, and she
hoped that she hadn’t accidentally sent a bolt of magick into Donnie
who was in the next room. She waited for a moment, but nothing
strange happened, so she continued unpacking boxes.
Seconds later, Donnie burst into the storage room wide-eyed.
“Um, Ms. O’Dare, I mean, um, Maeve … I need some help.”
“Help? With what?” Maeve questioned as Donnie bolted toward
the front.
“Come see for yourself!” he called out.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF I WANDA PUT A SPELL ON YOU HERE
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I Wanda put a Spell on You (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two Continued…
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Two?
From I Wanda put a Spell on you
Chapter Two Continued . . .
Her eyes open wide, and her pupils dilate.
Oh, yeah, good ol’ Chuck knows how to keep a lady on her toes!
She yanks her hand away, and I keep my smile and confidence.
“Magic?” she questions. “I can’t say that I believe in magic, Mr.
Lowry.”
“Oh, but I do,” I say, leaning forward. Her entire face is red, the
slight pinkish look no longer subtle.
She’s swooning, I think.
Yeah, totally, that’s what’s happening.
“And I definitely feel it in this café. You’ve put … put your magic
touch on this place, haven’t you? And you, darling, have definitely cast
a spell on me,” I say, enunciating the words as clearly as I can. Then I
lock my eyes on hers and say, “And if it’s not too much trouble, I’d
love for you to cast another-”
And then the pain starts.
This horrible, shooting pain goes up and down my left arm all the
way to my chest. I step back and grip my chest with my good arm.
“Mr. Lowry? Are you all right?” Maeve asks, stepping toward me
with a concerned gaze.
Oh my God, I’m having a heart attack!
“I … I …” I stutter.
I’m a little out of breath.
I’m way too young to be having a heart attack! I eat right, I exer‐
cise–got to stay looking good for the camera, you know? Why is this
happening? I’m about to tell her to call 911 when I see a woman’s face
in the reflection of the café window.
Selena!
She shakes her head at me and mouths the word “leave.”
I grit my teeth, but I nod at the woman in the window.
“I’m sorry, I just remembered I have to be somewhere. It’s been a
pleasure, Ms. O’Dare … I’ll stop by tomorrow morning for some
coffee!”
I practically run out the door. I dart down the dark street and hide
in the alley, dropping down to the ground. A part of me wonders if
this had been Selena’s plan all along: get me so scared of not listening
to her that I’ll crawl into a back alleyway to die instead of doing the
reasonable thing and have Maeve call for an ambulance!
I might be paranoid, but then again who could blame me? I got
turned into a dog by a witch, and now I’m pretty sure she’s causing me
to go into cardiac arrest!
I grip at my chest in horror as I prop myself up against the wall of
the building. The burning pain continues pounding through me, and I
can’t stop shaking.
This is it.
This is the end of Chuck Lowry!
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a familiar voice taunts, and a hound-like growl
erupts from my throat.
Then, suddenly, there is this green electric light swirling in the
alleyway in front of me. Before I know it, there she is, Selena–the
witch who did this to me! I bolt up. I want to tear her face off, but as
soon as I move, the pain in my chest gets worse. I surrender to the
cold ground and moan.
“You almost broke the rules!” she exclaims.
I stare at her. She doesn’t look like a witch. Just a pretty blonde in
her nice button up shirt and khaki jeans.
Frankly, she looks like a housewife. Not an evil sorceress.
“Rules?” I question but speaking hurts. I grab at my chest and take
slow breaths. If I had the energy, I’m pretty sure I’d be strangling her
right now.
“I already told you once, Chuck. Although to be honest you were
barking at me the whole time, so maybe you didn’t hear. You get
twelve moon cycles to break the curse. You’re down to eleven now. If
you tell someone what you are while you are human, you will die. And
you almost told Maeve, didn’t you?” Selena laughs at me. “I could have
sworn I felt a little magic between us,” she says in a taunting tone and
then laughs at me yet again.
My breathing becomes wheezy. I feel like I’m going to pass out.
“Am I going to die?” I ask, and I’m not too macho to admit that I’m
terrified right now.
“Tonight? No, sadly,” she says. “But know the pain you’re feeling
now is because you almost broke the rules of the curse. You can’t tell a
single person about your curse while you are in human form! As if
anyone would believe you anyway. You have to tell them while you’re
… oh, what’s the silly name they gave you? Wanda?”
I grit my teeth. Slowly the pain in my chest starts to settle down,
but I don’t dare move from my seat on the ground.
“Tell me one thing. Once I find a way to tell Maeve the truth as
Wanda, then what? How do we break the curse? She doesn’t even
realize she’s a witch!”
“Now, Chuck, it’s not fun if I tell you all my secrets!” Selena says,
and she laughs. “Oh, and just you wait. There will be more trials to
come, you little pooch. Soon, you’re going to be a real lady.”
I jump up, tired of her games. I lunge at her, and a bolt of green
lightening strikes down where she’s standing. And just like that, she’s
gone.
“You crazy witch!” I roar. I pause and then shout into the night,
“Wait, what did you mean by real lady?”
She’s gone. I swear if I sprout breasts I’m going to lose it. Although
walking around as a woman wouldn’t be half as bad as walking
around as a stupid female dog!
Would it?
Okay. Deep breaths, Chuck. Deep breaths.
You could have died tonight, but you didn’t. Okay, keep to the
rules from now on. I’ve got to play Selena’s game if I’m going to make
it out of this thing alive.
How long before I’m a dog again?
I think back to Selena’s first conversation with me about the curse.
When the full moon rises, I’ll turn back into a man, but I won’t turn
back into a dog until the next moon rise. That means I’ll be a man all
day tomorrow until the moon rises again!
Man, where am I going to sleep tonight?
I doubt Maeve is going to let me sleep on her couch. I wonder if
she’ll be worried when she gets home and Wanda isn’t there? Jeez, this
curse stuff is complicated!
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I walk down the street in the general direction of Maeve’s home–
not that I’m dumb enough to go to her house. Maeve would freak out
if she thought I was stalking her. Problem is, I don’t have anywhere
to stay. I think about walking back into town to find a bank. But
they’re all closed at this hour and without my wallet an ATM isn’t
much use.
Without cash how can I stay at a Motel?
Just as I am about to turn around, I spot good old Tommy Ether on
the side of the road attempting to pull a stubborn cow out of a ditch,
using only the light of the moon to guide his futile attempt.
“Come on, you stubborn girl!” the old man groans.
Mr. Ether was the first person who was kind to me after I changed
into Wanda. For six days, I’d been eating nothing but stuff I’d dug out
of dumpsters. Then when I got to Wisteria Pines, I found a market‐
place where the man was selling some of his crops. Mr. Ether fed me
peaches and strawberries as Wanda.
I wonder where his kids are and why they’re not helping him. I
assume they’re at the farm asleep. He’s one of those stubborn old
farmer types who still thinks he can do the work of a twenty-some‐
thing. I groan, but I decide I can’t leave the poor old man alone to deal
with a stubborn, oversized cow.
“Need a hand?” I ask, heading up the road towards him.
Up close, I see he has a flashlight hanging around his neck, but
we’re honestly getting more light from the moon and stars.
“Do I know you, son?” he asks.
“I doubt it,” I say. “I’m from out of town. You need some help?”
I can tell he wants to say no. He’s too proud, but he knows he’s
been defeated by the stubborn beast. Who knows how long he’s been
trying to get her out of that ditch before I showed up?
“I reckon I do,” he says. “My good-for-nothing hired help left my
gate open before he left my farm this evening, but thankfully only one
cow got out. Now she’s stuck in a ditch.”
The two of us grab hold of the cow, and he attempts to chase her
up out of the ditch while I push her from behind. “Stop pushing me,” I
hear the cow moan, and I jump in surprise. Okay, so apparently it’s
more than cats and dogs I understand with this curse.
This gives me an idea. I get up towards her head and look the thing
in the eye. I give my most serious expression. “Move,” I say.
“I’m not listening to you,” the cow says.
“Yes, you are listening to me,” I say, and the cow’s head cocks to the
side.
“Do you understand me?” the cow asks.
“Yup,” I say in a whisper so Mr. Ether doesn’t think I’m bananas.
“So you’re going to move for me, otherwise we’ll be out here all night,
and that’s not fair to the old man, got it?”
“Fine, but tell him to stop touching me. His hands are cold!” the cow
gripes.
I sigh and glance up at Mr. Ether who is attempting to push the
cow with his bare hands. “Sir, can I make a suggestion?” I ask.
“Sure, why not,” the old man says. “It’s not like anything we’ve
tried so far is working.”
“Do you have some gloves?” I ask.
He pulls some out of his overalls.
“Try putting those on,” I say.
Mr. Ether rolls his eyes at me, but he puts on the gloves anyway.
Pretty sure Ether thinks I’m a know-it-all city boy.
“Thanks,” the cow says to me. Much to Mr. Ether’s amazement, the
cow suddenly moves forward as he pushes her up and out of the ditch.
“Well, how in the world did you know that was gonna work?” he
asks with a toothy grin.
“Just a hunch,” I say. “It’s … um … a bit cold out tonight. Thought
maybe your hands were cold to her, so she was being stubborn.”
He looks me up and down. “Pretty good for a city boy,” he says. “I
never would have guessed I was annoying her because of my hands.
This cow has a strange personality, I’ll tell you what! This is the most
stubborn cow I’ve ever dealt with, but she’s a good breeder. Gives me
good calves every year, and her babies always wind up being great
dairy cows, so I put up with her.”
The next thing I know, I’m walking with Mr. Ether and the cow
down the road. I help the old man return the cow to the pasture. After
hearing I have no place to stay for the night, to thank me for my
assistance Mr. Ether offers to let me sleep out in his barn. It’s better
than out in the cold, I suppose.
They have a little cot set up in the barn. He tells me he sleeps out
there when a cow is getting close to birthing. I smile because I’d
pictured sleeping on hay when he had offered up the barn. He thanks
me again and tells me his wife will have breakfast ready at dawn
before leaving.
I smile, looking around. “This will do,” I say to myself.
“Who’s this guy?” I hear a horse ask, and I roll my eyes.
“I don’t know,” says another. “I saw him come in with Tommy, though.”
Great.
Roommates.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF I WANDA PUT A SPELL ON YOU HERE
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