Seven Pets for Seven Witches: A Collection of Paranormal Cozy Shorts

by Annabel Chase

  “Mew!” said Nibs, wriggling in James’s grip.

  James laughed and put the kitten back down again. Then he straightened and met Caitlyn’s gaze, his grey eyes twinkling. “…and that would make you our resident witch.”

  Caitlyn caught her breath. She knew James was joking, but she still felt her heart fill with hope and longing. Could she tell him…? She opened her mouth but before she could speak, a voice interrupted:

  “Ah… excuse me… Lord Fitzroy?”

  They turned to see a young police officer standing a few feet away. Caitlyn felt a prickle of disappointment, but quickly pushed the feeling away. Instead, she gave James a brisk smile and said:

  “Well, I’ll leave you to your meeting—”

  “I can ask the constable to wait while I escort you back to the chocolate shop.”

  “Oh, no—I’ll be fine,” Caitlyn assured him. She bent and scooped Nibs up in her arms. “It’s a lovely morning. We’ll enjoy the walk back.”

  “Give my regards to the Widow Mags… and tell her I’m looking forward to sampling her next creation,” said James, waggling his eyebrows with exaggerated anticipation. “The staff at Huntingdon Manor keep talking about the delicious new chocolate treats and cakes that she produces each week.”

  “Oh, yes—they’re amazing! The only problem is, if you live with her at the chocolate shop, you just can’t resist tasting them all,” said Caitlyn with a chuckle. “I dread to think how many pounds I must have gained since I came to Tillyhenge. At the rate I’m going, your teenage boys will be mistaking me for Bigfoot next!”

  “Nonsense, I think you’ve got a great figure—er, I mean…” James stammered, going red in the face. He groped for words. “Not that I’ve been looking particularly at your… um… that is, one can’t help noticing one’s female companions… not in a lecherous context, of course, but… er…” He cleared his throat. “Um… right. Well. I’d better go…”

  Still looking adorably embarrassed, James gave her a courteous nod, then hurried to join the officer waiting for him. Caitlyn stayed where she was for several moments, until she realised that she was standing there with a stupid smile on her face.

  Slowly, she turned and—clutching Nibs tightly in her arms—began walking down the track, back to Bewitched by Chocolate. Unconsciously, she began to skip as she hummed a happy tune.

  “Mew?” said Nibs, looking up inquisitively.

  Caitlyn grinned at the kitten. “You know what, Nibs? If Lord James Fitzroy thinks I’ve got a ‘great figure’… maybe I don’t need magical cinnamon after all!”

  Broom Mates

  Sea Witch Cozy Mysteries, Prequel

  Morgana Best

  Chapter 1

  I stood at my office window, looking through the sudden storm at the Yarra River far below. It wasn’t a pretty sight—fondly known as the River that Flows Upside Down due to its thick brown colour—but it was no less an icon than the Melbourne Cricket Ground. Melbourne was arguably the cultural capital of Australia, albeit one where people didn’t ask your name upon introduction, but rather which football team you followed.

  Thomas’s voice droned on behind me. “I don’t know why you’re so suspicious, Goldie. I only promoted Alexis over you because she has people skills, whereas you don’t.”

  I had seen her people skills firsthand, kissing Thomas in his office only minutes earlier. “I’m the best salesperson in this office,” I snapped. “I have people skills.”

  Thomas held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Not for Melbourne, you don’t. That’s why I’ve decided to send you to the Gold Coast, to manage the new office in Southport. I hope this won’t intrude upon our personal life. Our relationship can easily change to long distance.” He trailed his finger across my cheek. “I’ll fly to Queensland every weekend to be with you.”

  I slapped his hand away and considered throwing the paperweight on my desk at his head. Until moments ago, I had been happy with my life: a successful career, a one-bedroom apartment in Chapel Street, right in the centre of trendy inner-city suburb Prahran, and dating the owner of a successful real estate firm. “I quit.”

  Thomas reached for my shoulder, but hesitated. “You don’t mean that. I understand why you’re upset, but nothing’s changed.”

  “Everything’s changed.” I shook my finger in his face. “I’m giving notice, as of today. As of right now, in fact.” I pulled out one of my desk drawers and tipped the contents onto my desk for emphasis.

  “You legally have to give five weeks’ notice,” he said, but I held up one hand.

  “The fact I just saw you kissing Alexis in your office relieves me of that legal duty, I believe. I’m sure the Real Estate Institute would love to hear about you promoting her over me.”

  Thomas turned white. “That was nothing, nothing,” he stammered. “She tried to kiss me, but I pushed her away.”

  That wasn’t at all what I had seen, but I was too upset to get into it right now. “I’ll go into business for myself. I’m fully licensed.”

  Thomas laughed. “I’d be surprised if you have enough savings to set up a business. You have expensive tastes.” He gestured to my clothes. “Office rent in the city costs a fortune. I’m sure you could only afford an office in the outer suburbs, and I know you’re a city girl. Look, you’ll love the Gold Coast, and you’ll be in charge of the whole office.”

  Mrs Winters, the head secretary, poked her head around the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Ms Bloom, but there’s a lady here to see you.”

  I looked up, surprised. “I don’t have any appointments this afternoon. Anyway, I’ve just quit!” I added dramatically.

  Mrs Winters’ jaw dropped. “She’s a lawyer. She says it’s urgent, that you’re in danger of missing a deadline.”

  “A deadline?” I echoed. I was entirely mystified. “Okay then, show her in.”

  Thomas leant over and whispered in my ear, “Goldie, you know you don’t have a choice. I’m sending you to Queensland for your own good. It’s a great career move for you.” He winked at me before leaving the room.

  Mrs Winters showed in a tall woman whose attitude was as tightly wound as her skirt. “I’m Ms Finch,” she said in a nasal tone, “from Fortescue and Fythe.”

  I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. “Please have a seat.”

  Before I could open my mouth, she continued. “I have sent several letters, but you have not responded.”

  My eyes went straight to my overflowing Inbox tray. Right on cue, the top envelope fell to the ground. I retrieved it, and said, “Oh yes, I’m a little behind with snail mail. Who uses snail mail these days?”

  “I do,” she snapped. “You have until five today to sign for your inheritance, otherwise it will pass to the next in line.”

  My ears pricked up. “Inheritance, you say? I didn’t know I had an inheritance.”

  Her lips pursed tightly. “That is because you did not read our correspondence,” she said slowly and carefully, as if speaking to a wilful child.

  “I didn’t know there was anyone who would leave me money. Are you sure it’s for me?”

  She looked down her nose at me by way of response. “Peter Proteus was your uncle.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded. “After my parents passed away, I tried to find him. I do remember visiting him as a child. He was my mother’s uncle, but he’d spent the last few years in Europe, I believe.”

  “He’s dead. He left you his entire estate.”

  “That’s hardly a way to break the news to me gently,” I admonished her. “I’ve already had one shock today.”

  Ms Finch appeared oblivious to my rebuke. She shoved some papers across my desk, dislodging some of the items from my drawer as she did so. “Sign here.”

  I eagerly read the first page of the document. I sure hoped Uncle Peter had left me some hard cash. To my delight, he had, although not enough to start a new business, and he had left me a house as well. I looked up to see the
lawyer impatiently drumming her fingers on the table. “East Bucklebury,” I said. “Where on earth is that?”

  “Gold Coast,” she said. “North Gold Coast, to be precise. Small seaside town. Your uncle left you a house by the water.”

  I slumped back in my seat, shocked. “Gold Coast?” Exactly where Thomas wanted to transfer me? And a seaside house? I had always wanted to live by the sea. Everything happens for a reason, right? Instead of trying to start my own business here in Melbourne, I could accept Thomas’s transfer.

  “There’s only one catch,” she added.

  I rubbed my forehead. “I knew it was too good to be true.” I flipped to the next page. “What’s the catch?”

  She stubbed her finger on the document. “You have to live there for a year.”

  I was at once relieved. “That’s fine.” I waved one hand at her.

  She sighed. “If you had let me finish, I was going to say that you have to live there for one year with a room mate.”

  “A room mate?” I said, horrified.

  Chapter 2

  Thomas had been right. I wasn’t a people person. In fact, I far preferred animals to people. I could watch plenty of movies where people were killed, but I could not bear to watch a single movie where an animal was harmed. Give me animals over people any day. “I’m not good with people,” I told her.

  Ms Finch arched one eyebrow. “Those are the terms of the inheritance.”

  “Hang on a moment. Is this any room mate of my own choosing?”

  She tapped the papers once more. “There is a particular room mate already in residence.”

  “Is it a frail and elderly, or perhaps sick person?” I asked, clutching my throat. “Do I have to be a caregiver?

  Ms Finch was clearly becoming impatient with my questions. “No.”

  “Or is it a child? I can’t do children. They don’t like me. And I don’t like them,” I added for good measure.

  Ms Finch’s lips formed a thin line. “I can assure you, Ms Bloom, that Persnickle is neither an elderly person nor a child. He is entirely independent, according to your uncle’s instructions. You simply need to provide food and board.”

  My mind ran through the possibilities. Maybe Persnickle was a young man my uncle had taken in out of the goodness of his heart, or maybe he was his gay lover. Who would know? I’m sure I would find out soon enough. I looked through the contract and saw that Persnickle did not have a surname. Or maybe that was his surname. Perhaps he was one of those artsy types. Oh well, so long as he kept to himself and didn’t complain about my cooking.

  I held up one finger to the woman. “Just a moment!” I turned to my iMac and punched in East Bucklebury. The first entry was East Bucklebury Waste and Recycling Centre. I scrunched up my nose, and clicked on the second entry, City of Gold Coast/East Bucklebury. My jaw dropped open when I read of the luxury resort, the deep water marina, and the pristine beaches, as well as the nearby uninhabited island.

  It didn’t take me long to decide. I had always dreamt of a home by the sea. There were two drawbacks, the first being the room mate, Persnickle, and the second being that an outlying suburb of the Gold Coast was hardly big-city life. I looked at the amount of money once more, and then signed as fast as I could.

  Chapter 3

  The past five weeks had been a whirlwind. I had given notice on my tiny apartment, hired a removalist, and was on my way to East Bucklebury. It was a four-day drive through three states, so I tingled with excitement when I finally crossed the border into Queensland.

  I had attended conferences at the Gold Coast, and had always liked it. Still, I had never considered living there. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake, but Thomas had made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t able to keep my old position in Melbourne.

  My stomach tingled with anticipation when my GPS showed I had only twenty kilometres to go. I had spent the last few days wondering what my house was like. It didn’t show up on Google Street View. Some East Bucklebury houses did appear online, and were veritable mansions, each worth well over two million dollars. My house was not so grand. After all, Mrs Finch had informed me that it needed some work. That didn’t worry me—I had always wanted to renovate a house. My lawyer, at my request, had hired a builder to take care of any urgent work, and I figured I could press this Persnickle guy into helping me do the minor work.

  I drove between sugarcane fields for about fifteen kilometres, and turned right onto a road boasting that East Bucklebury was only five kilometres away. The town itself was a huge letdown. It was cutesy, if you liked barely-inhabited and cosy little towns—and I didn’t. I guessed the population was only around two thousand people. There were more people in my old street in Melbourne. I wasn’t fond of people, but with people came convenience.

  I took a deep breath and continued through town. So far, I had only seen old houses that looked over a hundred years old. These houses were not renovated, and most were ramshackle. I could see no beach, no marina, not even a resort. Thankfully, the derelict houses gave way to the huge houses I had seen online, towering constructions of concrete and glass, with high-security fences and electronic gates, the very epitome of luxury. It was with high hopes that I continued down the street.

  It only took minutes to arrive at my new house. While it was no towering concrete and glass mansion, it was a Queenslander, one of those beautiful homes built since Victorian times for the sub-tropical climate. I had only seen them online and in magazines, but this one looked typical, the living spaces all built above ground to allow airflow under the house and to keep snakes out. It had the wide wrap-around veranda as well as the traditional casement windows and double hung windows that were typical of the best of Queenslanders.

  It was not a beachside property. On the other side of the road was the sea, only there was no surf and no beach, not unless you counted a strip of sand. I felt cheated; after all, Australia was famous for its beaches. As far as oceans went, it was a disappointment. I’d had the romantic notion of waves crashing on a pristine beach, but this water was flat. Even an ant couldn’t surf here.

  I got out of the car and took one step. My heel at once wedged in the mud. I threw out my hands to save myself, and fell unceremoniously face forward in the mud.

  I said a few rude words and struggled to my feet. I ripped my shoe out of the mud, but the heel had partly detached. I put it back on as best I could and hobbled over to the house, straining against the blustering wind.

  I tried the front door, but it was locked. The builder was supposed to meet me here and give me the keys. “Hello?” There was no response. I called out again—still nothing.

  I hobbled around to the back of the house. A vehicle was parked out the front, and considering it had an extension ladder strapped to the roof, I figured it belonged to the builder. So where was he? I snatched my mobile phone from my handbag, and as I did so, my keys flew out and fell through a crack in the old boards of the veranda. I tried to flip on the torch on my iPhone, but my phone was flat.

  Great! Now I was stuck here without keys at dusk, and I had locked myself out of my car. I had no hope of retrieving the keys—it would take tools to do that.

  I surveyed my surroundings. There were only two houses as far as the eye could see, mine and the house next door. After a good five minutes of knocking on the neighbour’s door, I had to accept that no one was home.

  I had no option but to break into my house, but that proved impossible. Who says country people don’t lock their houses? A SWAT Team wouldn’t have been able to get in. Every window was secured.

  Given that it was almost nightfall, I weighed up my options. It was too far to walk to town in the dark, so I would have to stay here. I looked behind the house to see if there was some sort of shelter I could use. It was then I spotted the tent.

  I knew nothing about tents. After all, I had never entertained the slightest wish to go camping. The tent was rectangular, and seemed a decent size. I hurried over and stuck my head inside. />
  This time, it seemed I was in luck. There was a low-slung camp bed covered with blankets, next to a table and chairs. It all looked quite clean. I only hoped it would withstand the wind.

  I slept fitfully. Every time I woke up, the howling wind was shaking the tent.

  When I opened my eyes the following morning, it was bright, brighter than it should have been inside the tent. It took me a moment or two to realise the tent was gone. I saw it in the distance, billowing away on the wind. I got out of the camp bed and backed up, shielding my eyes from the sun, only to fall backwards over something, and land hard. I struggled to my feet and looked around to see what had tripped me.

  It was the body of a man. A knife was protruding from his back.

  Chapter 4

  I staggered back to the road like a mad thing on my one and a half heels. The only running I had done in years was on a treadmill, but somehow I made it across all the rocks and the mud. Just as I reached the road, I saw a car coming.

  Without thinking, I jumped in front of it, waving my arms frantically. The car veered off the road and narrowly escaped running into a drain. A man wearing tight jeans and an angry expression jumped out. “Are you mad?” he snapped. “I could have hit you.”

  Before he could get a chance to berate me further, I said, “There’s a dead man! Over there!” I pointed in the direction of the body.

  I thought he would ask questions, but mercifully he said, “Show me.”

  I hobbled back over to the body, more slowly this time. I hung back while the man had a close look. He finally straightened and looked at me. “Did you do this?”