Lemonade & Love Potions
Page 1
Lemonade & Love Potions
A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Short
Bella Falls
Evermore Press
Copyright © 2018 by Bella Falls
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All Rights Reserved.
Cover by Victoria Cooper
Created with Vellum
Contents
Also by Bella Falls
Foreword
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Series
About the Author
Also by Bella Falls
A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Series
Moonshine & Magic: Book 1
Lemonade & Love Potions (Southern Charms Cozy Short)
Fried Chicken & Fangs: Book 2
Sweet Tea & Spells: Book 3
Barbecue & Brooms: Book 4
Collards & Cauldrons: Book 5 (Coming Soon)
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Foreword
The following Southern Charms short was previously included in the paranormal cozy anthology Hexes and Ohs. It chronologically occurs between the events in Moonshine & Magic and Fried Chicken & Fangs. Reading it may enhance your enjoyment of Book 2 in the series as it may help shed some light on Charli’s relationships with others, especially the two guys in her life.
Grab some sweet tea and enjoy!
Summary
Charli Goodwin can’t help herself when it comes to helping out her friends, especially a failed cupid trying to earn his way back into the matchmaking ranks. A singles mingle in her small Southern town should be the perfect event, but trouble with a capital T shows up when someone attempts to boost the odds of love in their favor.
Sweet honeysuckle iced tea, it’s gonna take more than lemonade and a little magic to help Charli find out what’s wrong, solve the mystery, and save Honeysuckle Hollow from disaster again.
Chapter One
Spanish moss rustled in the trees with the evening breeze, and the faintest hint of honeysuckle floated in the air. It never ceased to amaze me that, no matter what season we were in, it was an ever-present aroma. Of course, that was only a small part of Honeysuckle Hollow. Our little Southern town had more charms about it than just its signature scent.
Walking down Main Street, I relished every step as I passed by the familiar storefronts. My return back to my hometown had been full of excitement, the kind that got most tongues waggin’ and could put others in their graves. It very nearly put me in mine. But here I walked through the center of my town, carefree as a bird, with no worries.
Approaching the venue for tonight's event, I ran into Sprinkle, who flew into me, calling out last-minute instructions to my friend Alison Kate.
“You make sure that our bakery is spic-and-span for the morning,” the retired tooth fairy ordered, his high-pitched voice sounding gruffer than usual.
I did my best not to bat the small flying fairy away from my face. “Don't worry. I'll help Ali Kat clean things up here at Sweet Tooths.”
Sprinkle cast a frown at me, and I held in the giggle at his tiny stern countenance. “You'd better, Miss Charli. It was against my better judgment to host this infernal event at our place anyway.”
His business partner, Twinkle, bumped into him in the air. “Oh, Sprink, give it a rest,” she squeaked. “I think it’s fine to let them use our place.”
Sprinkle glared at her. “Well, I think it's a dumb idea. In a small town like this, who needs a singles mixer? Everyone knows everybody anyway,” the tiny tooth fairy complained.
“Let's just say that we’re helping out a fellow friend, then,” I offered.
“Skeeter Jones is no friend of mine. I think y'all are crazy to put your hearts in charge of a fired cupid. And what’s with that name anyway?” Twinkle bobbed up and down, his wings quivering in annoyance.
“As he tells it, it’s short for his nickname Mosquito,” I explained.
Perhaps Sprinkle had a point. Why any cupid would stick to that name and not change it, maybe, explained a little behind Skeeter’s failures. “Then let's say that we’re helping a Honeysuckle Hollow resident try to do some good for a select few of the residents. Would you deny someone like Alison Kate a chance to find love?” I shot the verbal arrow where it hurt.
“Fine,” grumbled Sprinkle, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. For all his grousing, he really did like my friend and wanted her to be happy.
“Come on, I’ll treat you to a slice of pecan pie at the Harvest Moon Diner,” offered Sprinkle with a quick wink at me. “Extra whipped cream.”
“Tell Blithe I said hey,” I called out to them as they fluttered diagonally across the street to the only restaurant in town. Blithe, my very stubborn friend, had stuck to her guns and not participated in tonight's event, picking up a late shift at the diner to cement her inability to come.
With a shake of my head, I opened the door to Sweet Tooths, bells tinkling their welcome. The sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks.
“It's awful, isn't it?” Skeeter bellyached, the corners of his mouth pulled down like the sagging lips of an old hound dog.
He fluttered over to me, his small, pudgy body dipping up and down in the air while his wings worked extra hard to keep him afloat. Although most cupids had the appearance of angelic cherubs, Skeeter looked a bit like a pig that could fly rather than a cute baby.
He hid the curls of his head under a trucker hat with a big red heart and the word Fart embroidered across it. I didn’t ask him if it meant he liked flatulence or if he thought that Love and Farts were the same because they both stunk. His official uniform of leather belts crisscrossed his almost naked body, a quiver with one red arrow in it resting on his back between his wings.
Problem was, Skeeter had been enjoying his time in Honeysuckle with all its good food a bit too much. Extra roles of skin tested the strength of the straps. If the cupid got a chance to get his job back, he’d have to workout twice as hard to get back in shape.
I opened my mouth but found nothing nice to say at first. The bakery on a normal day was splashed with colorful pastels. Tonight, red and pink covered every single surface. I stood at the entrance, gaping at the disaster.
“The shining lights are…nice.” I focused on the one half-truth about the disco ball reflecting sparkles all over the bleeding mass. Better not lie to a depressed cupid already on the brink of a breakdown.
Skeeter’s shoulders slumped. “I can never do anything right. Whatever I touch turns to disaster. Y'all are gonna kick me out of Honeysuckle, and then where will I go?”
When I’d volunteered to help him out, I hadn’t expected to become his counselor. There might not be enough sweet tea in town to bolster me for the job ahead. However, if tonight had any shot at working, we had to get our resident cupid back on track.
“Take it easy, Skeeter. We don't kick people out of the town for their failures any more than we let people in for their successes. Those in the magical community who want to l
ive in peace with other supernatural beings are welcome.” Growing up as part of one of the founding families made me sound like a cheerleader.
“Still, this is starting to remind me of the disaster over yonder in Cricket Creek.”
My stomach did a flip. “What happened in Cricket Creek?”
Skeeter shook his head, his eyes widening and dread vibrating his overworked wings. “You don't want to know.”
Stuck between needing to know more with a statement like that and knowing better, I chose to ignore my curiosity and pretend to fix a red streamer back in place.
Skeeter sniffed. “Are you sure we have enough people for tonight?”
“I asked around for you, and I'm pretty sure we will have a good showing.”
I cursed myself silently for having helped Skeeter come up with the idea for tonight's singles mingle. But what else could I do for the poor guy? After listening to him almost cry about losing his job, I had to do something.
Besides, I had a plan. As my Great Uncle Tipper used to say, you don't place a bet unless you have a couple of aces up your sleeve. A few of my childhood friends had clear crushes on each other, and maybe tonight would give them all the big push to move forward.
“Don't worry, Skeeter. Everything will be fine.”
His eyes widened. “The last time someone said that to me…never mind.” He checked the clock on the wall. “Look at the time. How am I gonna get everything ready?”
Assuring him that I could help, I asked for a task to complete. Skeeter sent me to the kitchen to make the lemonade for the party. As soon as I walked through the swinging door, my friend Alison Kate jumped.
“What are you doing here?” She scrambled to clean up her workstation in front of her, knocking some mixing bowls onto the floor. “Oh, pixie poop.”
I waved her off. “Leave it. I'll clean it up once the event starts. I'm here to make sure things go off without a hitch for Skeeter tonight. The poor guy could use all the help he can get.”
“Yeah, I guess I'm not the only one who's nervous. You did say that Lee would be coming tonight, right?” Her eyes sparkled at the mention of our mutual friend’s name.
I got to work cutting the lemons. “He's coming with Ben. Lily should be here, but her cousin Lavender is home sick, I heard tell.”
“Is Blithe still protesting?” Alison Kate asked.
“You know it, Ali Kat. She said, and I quote, ‘There ain't nobody in this spit little town that's gonna catch my fancy.’” We both laughed at my spot on imitation.
“Famous last words,” joked Alison Kate. “Especially since we seem to be attracting newer residents every week. Who knows who might be showing up in Honeysuckle next.”
We worked together in silence. She finished her red velvet cake pops, a perfect dessert to go with Skeeter’s decoration attempts. I finished mixing up the fresh lemonade, pouring it into a punch bowl and finding a ladle. We carried out our goodies and set them on the front counter with other treats.
Skeeter placed a stack of red plastic cups next to the lemonade, one of the few things not pink or red in the room. “I think that'll do it.
Just in time. The door opened with the jingling of the bells, and more of my friends walked in. I greeted Ben and Lee with a hug. Lily followed behind, her eyes tracking where Ben went. The frown on her face surprised me.
“What's wrong?”
“I swear, I didn't tell her anything.” She jutted her thumb at the person following behind her.
Lily’s younger sister, Linsey, bounced inside. “Evenin’, Charli. I heard tonight's gonna be something else.”
My relationship with the ambitious sister of my friend had not improved much due to our recent history. When she was little, she was the biggest gossip, making it her business to know everything about everyone. Now that she worked for our local newspaper, The Honeysuckle Holler, I hoped that if she reported anything about tonight's event, she stuck to the truth and not rumors.
Plastering a wide fake smile on my lips, I welcomed her. She opened her mouth to say something smart, but a large presence behind her knocked her forward.
“Hey, watch where you’re going.” Linsey turned around to glower at the culprit and ran into the middle of his broad, hairy chest.
A colossal figure took up all the immediate space. His immense brow protruded out from under shaggy dark strands of hair, and his lower jaw jutted out from his face with two pointy teeth protruding from his lips. The last thing those who hadn’t met him yet would expect to come out of his mouth was a British accent.
“My sincerest apologies, young lady. I hope this does not color your opinion of me. I would hate to be the Darcy to your Elizabeth Bennet in their first encounter.” The deep voice of the enormous troll shook the air around him.
“Horatio, I thought you said you wouldn't be able to make it,” I exclaimed, enjoying Linsey's gaped mouth a little too much.
“I rearranged my schedule after I thought about your invitation. For as the bard Shakespeare put it, ‘Men at some time are masters of their fates.’ I did not wish to rely on the stars to find a possible match tonight. Although, I do hope that ‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’” He patted nervously at his mess of hair.
A goofy grin spread on Linsey's face. “You like a lot of literature?”
He smiled down at her, his eyes gleaming with glee from under his bulging brow. “My dear, ‘Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost possible degree.’”
Linsey locked her arm around the troll’s elbow. “You seem to like Shakespeare a lot.”
“That's because I knew the man.” Horatio launched into a bawdy tale about his friend. Whatever kept the nosy reporter busy was fine with me.
Skeeter buzzed over to me. “I was about to give you heck for inviting a troll. They're not normally so well behaved. Or read.”
“Horatio has his own story to tell,” I said. “But let's just say that he wasn't kidding. The guy didn't just know Shakespeare. From his tales, they were close friends from the time the playwright asked for his help in researching Midsummer.”
We could have spent the entire night talking about the interesting mix of those attending the event. With the go-ahead from Skeeter, I went to shut the door. A hand stopped it from closing all the way, and a squat, rotund older vampire walked in, wearing a faded and raggedy tux with a black cape tied around his neck.
“Beau, what are you doing here.” My roommate would be getting an earful when we got back to my place.
He ignored my tone and took off his black cape he wore for special occasions. “Well, you've been talking about tonight long enough at home that I thought I should come down and take advantage. No need to stay home alone holed up in that old house with you.”
The thought of him with a girlfriend at our shared domicile gave me the willies. “Just remember our agreement. Advanced notice before any guests,” I warned.
“Same goes for you.” Beau wiggled his eyebrows at me, and Mason slipped behind him through the open door.
The detective’s presence sent my nerves on high alert. “Mason. What are you doing here? Is there a problem?”
He stammered a couple of times and then cleared his voice with a cough. “I thought that anyone was welcome tonight to attend.”
I stared at him, unsure what to say. His presence at the singles mingle confused me. As far as I knew, the man lived and breathed his work. When would he have time for a social life? And who would he meet tonight? Would they be good enough for him? Better yet, if he did find someone, would he continue to have time to consult with me?
Skeeter called everybody to attention, interrupting the onslaught of questions in my head. He gave a short speech about the event, which sounded more like a warning than a welcome. His chubby body dipped up and down in the air, his wings working overtime and fluttering nervously.
After he finished, he made his way to me, bumping into everyone in his path. “Charli, I forgot somethin
g. I need your help.”
“I think everything looks perfect.” I wanted to stay and watch the night unfold, curiosity getting the better of me.
“But I forgot to pick up the cherry pies from Sassy at the diner. Can you get those for me?” Skeeter gave me his best pitiful gaze that looked an awful lot like his normal state.
“Cherry pies aren't going to make or break the evening. I don't think anyone ever fell in love because of a piece of pie.”
Skeeter ushered me toward the door, blocking my ability to move around him. “You never know what may bring people together. Please, Charli.”
“All right, all right. I'll be right back.” In a huff, I ventured back out into the night air.
My shoulder bumped into a form in the dark just outside the bakery. Maybe I needed to wear a big orange cone on the top of my head so people would stop running into me.
I glanced up into a pair of golden glowing eyes and heard a familiar low growl. “Dash. I'm surprised to see you.”
The wolf shifter hardly ever ventured out of his house. And he never did anything remotely social. Not in a million years would I expect him to be within a few feet of a singles event. Perhaps the need to find a mate brought him here? My stomach clenched at that possibility.
“Lee forgot something,” his low voice rumbled. “I’ll go inside and give it to him and then go. Are you leaving, too? We can walk back together.”
I shook my head. “No. Skeeter needs me to pick up some cherry pies at the Harvest Moon.”
Dash didn't reply, and I tried to interpret his lack of response. After a long awkward pause, he spoke again. “Are there a lot of people inside?”