My name’s Tawny Bigford. I’m a 35-year-old part-time romance author, and I just found out that magic is real.
You see, it all started one morning when I stumbled upon my new landlady’s dead body. From there I was whisked away by a dashing cop who wasn’t exactly there to investigate her murder. He delivered me to the PTA—no, not the one you’re thinking—the Paranormal Temp Agency.
They’re the special governing body that protects magical interests in our fair Peach Plains region of Georgia and are one of many such boards set up all across the globe.
Once they determined I was not at fault for my landlady’s death, they ordered me to act as her temporary replacement. Not as a landlady, but as the official Beech Grove Town Witch. Oh, boy!
From there it was all talking cats, flying brooms, and one twisty turn after another. Every time someone actually bothered to answer one of my questions, at least a dozen more popped up in its place.
By the time we caught the real killer on the loose, I had a terrible headache from trying to keep it all straight. Here’s what I do know…
The board is made up of six paranormal liaisons plus the Town Witch and the assigned Diplomat in charge. Our Diplomat is a little black cat who loves following rules almost as much as he loves making demands; his name is Mr. Fluffikins.
Then we have sweet, matronly Greta as the liaison to Schools. I recently found out she’s an angel—um, wow!
Parker Barnes is that same cop who initially brought me into this crazy supernatural ring. He’s also the reason I remember everything that happened even though the others attempted to wipe my memory. Beyond that, his role is a bit more complicated. I’m still trying to figure it out for myself.
Lastly, we have Connie in charge of Commerce, Buckley as head of Agriculture, and some old dude in a suit who serves as the emissary for Cemeteries.
I was recently the temporary Town Witch, but now that they have someone more permanent to fill the role, I should be out of a job. The board works with temps for a reason. They’re easier to control, and the fewer people who know the full truth about what they do, the better. They’d rather tell lots of people part truths than let anyone too deep into their circle and risk exposure. I guess that’s why I find them so confusing.
Even though I’m a little sad to have lost the magic they granted me—I only had it for less than twenty-four hours, mind you—I’m more than ready to get back to my normal life.
The boss cat, however, seems to have other ideas…
Uh-oh.
It’s been three days since the madcap magical adventure that changed my world and everything I knew about it. Three days since yet another cold shower led to a murder mystery that turned into a magical conspiracy that almost cost me my life.
Three days.
That’s longer than the entire adventure lasted. I don’t even think a full twenty-four hours passed between the time when I stumbled over Mrs. Haberdash’s corpse and the PTA board caught the bad guys and put a stop to their dastardly plan.
In fact, I know it wasn’t.
So how can such a short span of time change literally everything?
For one thing, I have a new landlord now. And while my previous landlady Mrs. Haberdash studiously avoided me, Parker Barnes finds at least half a dozen excuses to stop by every single day.
Yes, that Parker.
It’s kind of hard to push magic out of my mind when the same guy who introduced me to it in the first place is always hanging around my doorstep.
And it definitely doesn’t help that I have a big fat crush on him. Ever since my ex-husband found a new wife—while we were still married, I might add—I’ve sworn off love for a life of complete personal freedom.
So while Parker’s swoony gray eyes may make my heart gallop, they also make my stomach churn. That’s why I’ve imposed three new rules.
Three days. Three rules.
They are no more magic, no more men, and no more madcap adventures.
That was it. Should’ve been easy enough to follow. Especially since the rest of the board assumes I have no recollection of what happened.
But then…
Crash!
I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall as fast as my feet would carry me. Too late I realized that I probably should have found some kind of weapon to take with me.
It was hardly six in the morning. Who could have possibly…?
A spark of light flooded the living room even though I hadn’t flipped the switch.
“Good morning, Tawny,” Mr. Fluffikins said from where he was seated right beside a broken vase that had once held an arrangement of fake flowers. I didn’t have the money to constantly buy fresh, and I hated watching something so pretty and vibrant wilt and die, so it had always been fake for me.
I glanced from the mess to the cat who had no doubt created it and back again, then threw my hands in the air and headed back down the hall toward my bedroom.
“Tawny, wait!” he cried after me. “I know you remember!”
I mumbled my three rules to myself. Fluffikins’s appearance threatened to break at least two of said rules, and that was not okay.
“Go away,” I mumbled and continued to drag myself back toward bed.
“I won’t,” he insisted, trailing after me now. “Not until you at least hear me out.”
“I’m not making you breakfast.” The last time he appeared at my place before sunrise that’s what he had demanded. It was a safe bet that’s what he wanted now.
“I already ate,” he countered. “And you clearly haven’t forgotten anything despite the fact I very clearly remember wiping your memory.”
This stopped me dead in my tracks. I shuddered and then asked, “What do you want then?”
“The PTA has a new assignment for you,” he said, and then my knees gave out beneath me.
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