Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 12

by Susan Harper

  “Thanks for the save, Aunt Wilma,” Monica said.

  “Well, Mona had mentioned to me that you were coming by to speak to Lauralet. I wasn’t going to come, but I started to worry about you two. Good thing I decided to follow my instincts on that one. Now, tell me, why is your mortal friend here with you?” Wilma asked, and by this time, they were arriving outside of Back Room Books.

  “Well, I think something might have happened,” Monica said as she and Holly dismounted the broomstick.

  “What do you mean?” Wilma asked.

  “Look! We’re at a bookstore!” Holly exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Hey, Tiffany, when did you get here?” she asked Monica.

  Mona shook her head. “We scrambled her brain is what she means,” Mona said. “I’m thinking that between the two memory charms we put on her that we just messed her up somehow.”

  “That’s not how a memory charm works,” Wilma said. “And you and I are skilled in memory charms.”

  “If I put my tongue on the roof of my mouth like this, I can make a clicking noise,” Holly said, then proceeded to demonstrate.

  Wilma stared at her with a perplexed look. “Um… Okay, that’s not right, now, is it?”

  “Can you fix her?” Monica asked hopefully.

  “I’m sure I can,” Wilma said, ushering them inside.

  With the wave of her wand, Mona lit all of the shop’s candles and lanterns to give them some room to work. Monica encouraged Holly to sit down at one of the small tables and gave her a children’s book to look at as it seemed the woman had also forgotten how to read. “We really messed her up,” Monica muttered under her breath as Holly excitedly looked through a children’s book meant for werewolf pups.

  “I’m sure it’s just something little that we overlooked,” Wilma said, pulling a few books off the shelves. “Let’s see, I believe these spellbooks here might have some sort of answer for us. Here, Mona, you take this one, and let’s see what we can find about malfunctioning memory charms. Monica, you take this one.” Wilma handed each of them a spellbook, and they sat near Holly to keep an eye on her while they looked through the books.

  “It’s like she forgot all of the wrong things,” Monica said. “She was supposed to forget about coming over here to Wysteria, but she remembers that while she’s forgotten little things like people’s names or even how to tie her shoes.”

  “She also can’t read,” Mona said. “That’s kind of a bit uh-oh.”

  “She loves books, too,” Monica said timidly. “I’m sure reading is something she is going to miss when she realizes she used to be able to do it.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Wilma said. “We’ll figure out what happened, though, don’t worry.”

  “Have you spoken to Uncle Drac since we last saw him?” Monica asked as she skimmed through the pages of Correcting Spell Mishaps.

  Wilma sighed. “I haven’t spoken to your Uncle Drac, but I had the displeasure of speaking with the authorities earlier today. They showed up at my home. Apparently, the forensic pathologist has come back with the report and has discovered that the marks on Penelope’s neck were not bitemarks at all. They were stab wounds, and someone drained the witch of her blood. It seems that someone was trying to frame your uncle, and the authorities are now looking at me.”

  “Oh my goodness!” Mona cried. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “This only just happened earlier today,” Wilma said. “So, good news is that your Uncle Drac will likely be released soon. But I might just wind up taking his place if we don’t figure out what’s going on.”

  “Why are they looking at you, Aunt Wilma?” Monica asked.

  “Well, I was seen by many people at the party talking to Penelope. And I am your Uncle Drac’s ex. They seem to be framing this as a sort of bitter ex trying to get Drac arrested,” Wilma explained.

  “But you and Uncle Drac get along great! Everyone in Wysteria knows that,” Mona grumbled. “And if they know a vampire likely didn’t kill Wilma, why are they still holding Uncle Drac?”

  “Because he was the last person seen with her,” Wilma said. “But I suspect they will have him cleared and released before we know it. I am just worried that I’m going to be carted off next.”

  “This is just awful,” Monica said. “It seems maybe the idea of the framing is the one we should’ve been looking at. We’ve been interviewing people who would want Penelope dead or looking at other vampires. If the goal was just to frame Uncle Drac, we need to come up with a new list of suspects.”

  “Absolutely!” Mona agreed, putting the first book she had skimmed through aside and picking another one from the stack. “I didn’t see anything useful in that one… I really cannot imagine what could have gone wrong with a simple memory charm!”

  Monica glanced toward the end of the table where Holly had been sitting, and she jolted in her seat when she saw Holly had moved. “Where did she go!” Monica yelped, standing upright. She glanced around the shop, but eventually, she spied Holly climbing up the side of a bookshelf. “Holly! Stop! Don’t do that! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Monica stood and hurried toward the bookshelves. Wilma and Mona remained behind, still looking through the stack of books for an answer to their memory charm flub.

  By the time Monica reached Holly, she had climbed to the top of one of the bookshelves and was sitting with her legs hanging off the end. “Get down!” Monica called up to her.

  “Nah!” Holly said, reaching down and pulling a book off the top shelf. “Hey, Brittany, did you know that these books can fly?” she asked, then threw the book off the shelf. The book opened wide and began flapping around in frustration.

  “Holly, don’t do that!” Monica yelped, but Holly proceeded to throw four more books in the air.

  The books started circling around Holly, nipping at her occasionally. “I didn’t realize books knew how to fly!” Holly cried out excitedly. “Are books just a type of bird?” Holly giggled. “But they don’t have feathers!”

  “Holly, that’s enough!” Monica shouted, raising her voice. “Come down, now!”

  Holly groaned loudly. “Fine! You are so boring, Sondra.”

  “It’s Monica! Holly, you know me. My name is Monica. How many times do I have to tell you?” Monica asked, helping Holly down by holding her hands out, making sure that she didn’t slip and fall over backwards.

  Monica escorted her back to the table, and it was around this time that Wilma appeared to have found something of interest. She was holding a book significantly closer to her nose, and she seemed to be staring at the page with extra scrutiny. “Did you find something?” Monica asked as she forced Holly to sit back down. She grabbed her a different children’s book to look at, and Holly hummed happily while she glossed through the colorful illustrations.

  “I think so, give me a second,” Wilma said. “A chapter specifically on memory charm mishaps…an uncommon occurrence…”

  “Thank goodness you found something,” Monica said. “What does it say?”

  “It says you’re supposed to do a different spell for mortals versus mystics, but I knew that already,” Wilma said. “Monica, when you did your memory charm on her, did you treat her as a mystic or as a mortal?”

  “As a mortal, of course,” Monica said.

  “So did I,” Wilma said. “However, based off the symptoms that Holly is experiencing, the reason the memory charms we did are having such a peculiar effect is because she is a mystic.”

  “Holly’s not a mystic,” Monica said.

  “You think she could be a witch?” Mona asked, staring at the girl seated at the end of the table.

  “Maybe a witch. Somewhere in her ancestry, at least. A witch, vampire, werewolf…something. Obviously some sort of mixed breed, but she has some sort of mystic in her,” Wilma said.

  Monica stared at Holly curiously. “But you’re not sure if she’s a witch or something else?” she asked.

  “How am I to know what she is?” Wilma replied. “She never to
ld me she was a mystic. I dare say she probably doesn’t even know herself based off how surprised you all say she was the first time she came through here.”

  “Well, that’s just great,” Monica groaned. “Can we restore her memories, though? We have got to find a way to fix her.”

  “Yes, I should be able to fix what happened now that I know where the error occurred,” Wilma said. “Maybe once we restore her memory, she’ll be able to explain to us exactly who she is.”

  “If she knows,” Monica said. “I just feel like I would have noticed something unusual about her by now, don’t you think? I mean, I’m pretty observant. And how many half-breeds do you really know? It’s not exactly common.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out what she is,” Wilma said, turning the page in her book. “Okay, I think I got the perfect spell here that should restore her back to her normal state.”

  “Then do it before she gets bored with the picture book,” Monica said as her aunt stood and pulled out her magic wand.

  Wilma pointed the wand at Holly, who smiled brightly up at Wilma and stared at the wand curiously. “Restituere!”

  Holly jolted a bit in her seat, and her eyes drooped. She yawned a bit, then she glanced around the room calmly. “Holly, are you all right?” Monica asked, and Holly suddenly jumped out of her seat.

  “Oh my gosh! Monica!” Holly practically screamed, and she placed her hands against her temples as she recalled everything that had taken place. “Did we really have tea with a dragon!”

  11

  Holly seemed absolutely jittery as all of her memories came flooding back to her. Monica felt a slight pinch in her stomach, unsure exactly what this was going to mean for her and Holly’s friendship. “What…what in the world!” Holly exclaimed, pacing across Mona’s side of Back Room Books. Her eyes were wide, and she occasionally pulled at her own hair due to her nerves. “Flying on broomsticks… Dragons… Flying books… You… Monica, you and your family are witches!”

  “Pretty much,” Aunt Wilma said.

  “I don’t understand…” Holly mumbled. “How can this be? Back Room Books… What is this place? Some sort of portal to another world?”

  “This is my hometown,” Monica said.

  “Chicago?”

  “No, not Chicago,” Monica said with a slight laugh. “We’re all from Wysteria. It’s a town who’s magical border crosses with Bankstown.”

  “So, Isaac is right!” Holly exclaimed. “Aliens…”

  “No, dear, no aliens,” Wilma said. “Just mystics. Werewolves, vampires, dragons, witches—that sort of thing.”

  Holly shook her head. “I don’t understand. All I did was go into that closet to put a broom up, and now I’m here.”

  “The door is an enchanted portal,” Monica explained. “Although we put a spell on it to make sure that no mortals could possibly get through.”

  “But…but I got through,” Holly said.

  “Exactly,” Wilma said. “Between that and the way that memory charm backfired, I’d say you have some sort of mystic in you as well.”

  “Wait, what?” Holly questioned, now pacing even more. “I’m a mystic? What does that even mean?”

  “Well, obviously not a purebred mystic,” Mona said. “But you have something in your ancestry. Are you telling us that you didn’t know you had something magical in you?”

  “There is no way!” Holly nearly shouted. “I’m perfectly normal.”

  “What a rude thing to say,” Wilma said. “Are you suggesting that we are not normal? There are just as many mystics in the world as mortals. I’d hardly call us abnormal, dear.”

  “Oh… Um… I’m sorry?” Holly finally sat down and stopped pulling at her hair. She took several deep breaths. “I just…am having a hard time understanding all of this. I mean, I grew up thinking stuff like witches and dragons were just folklore. Fairytales, you know? I mean, are you even…good witches?”

  “What a ridiculous question!” Wilma exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… I guess… Aren’t witches bad?” Holly asked.

  “Is she serious?” Mona asked, standing up from the table. She seemed to have lost interest in Holly and was now using this time to straighten some of the books on her shelves.

  “I mean, the idea of a good witch versus a bad witch is about the same as a good mortal versus a bad mortal,” Wilma said. “We’re not a bunch of demon-summoning hooligans, if that’s what you’re worried about. But, for the moment, dear, let’s focus on you for a second. You really had no idea you were part-mystic?”

  “I’m not even sure what you mean by mystic!”

  “Just what my aunt said a moment ago,” Monica said. “Mystic is a broad term that covers pretty much anything that lives on this side. The mystic side: vampires, werewolves, fairies, trolls, you name it. All of them are mystics, and all of them would be able to use the portal that we put a spell on to prevent mortals from coming through. So, we just want to know what sort of mystic you are.”

  “I’m telling you, I had no idea about any of this until today!” Holly exclaimed. Although her voice rose a bit, she seemed to be calming down significantly for the first time since her memory had been restored. “I was almost killed by a fire-breathing dragon!”

  “Lauralet wasn’t going to kill us,” Monica said with a wave, although she couldn’t be entirely sure. “She was just foul because Mona got all accusing with her.”

  “Oh, shut up, Monica!” Mona called from the bookshelf she was busying herself with. Monica wasn’t quite sure what her sister was doing, but she seemed to be searching for something.

  “And Lauralet wasn’t a dragon, per say. She was a dragon shapeshifter,” Monica said. “Big difference.”

  Wilma clasped her hands together. “Well, it has been a very hectic evening, and it’s getting late. I dare say that Miss Holly probably needs some rest. Now, as a fellow mystic, you understand that you cannot go telling the whole world about this side? We separated ourselves nearly a millennium ago for a reason, dear.”

  “Um…okay, of course,” Holly said. “I guess this means I can’t talk to Isaac about this.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what this means,” Monica said quickly. “The last person you need to tell about all this is a journalist and conspiracy theorist!”

  “Good point,” Holly said.

  Mona now had a large book in her hands and returned. She placed the book down on the table. “Might want to take this with you. It’s a complete collection on mystics. Maybe you could use it to figure out what you are.”

  “R-right,” Holly said somewhat nervously.

  “How about you and I go back to the other side, and I’ll get you home,” Monica said.

  Holly nodded, and after a somewhat uncomfortable farewell, Monica and Holly went through the back door that brought them back to the Bankstown side of the bookstore. “Welcome back,” Monica said.

  Holly was still gripping the giant book. She looked a bit shaken. “I don’t even know how to deal with the information I have just learned.”

  Monica stared at Holly for a moment. She seemed quite distressed by this whole ordeal. “I don’t know how you feel coming to a witch’s cottage,” Monica said, “but why don’t you come stay over tonight? I can maybe answer any questions you have and help you make sense of that book my sister threw your way.”

  “Your sister! That was my first time meeting her, and I was rather rude, wasn’t I?” Holly asked. “I should probably apologize. I’m just a bit shocked is all…” Holly stared at Monica for a moment as she contemplated her suggestion. After a moment, Holly nodded. “I think that would be lovely. I’m a bit shaken up.”

  “How do you feel about taking my broom home?” Monica asked.

  Holly hesitated for a moment, but then a smile appeared on her face. “Let’s do it.”

  Monica felt incredibly thankful that Holly seemed to be coming around to the whole mystic thing rather quickly. The two of them left th
e bookstore, locking up on their way out. After looking around for any prying eyes, Monica and Holly mounted the broom. Holly sat on the back, gripping both the book and the broomstick. “Don’t zip off too quickly,” Holly said somewhat fearfully. “I’d like to enjoy the experience this time.”

  Monica laughed and kicked off, bringing them high into the air. Holly squealed slightly. “A lot nicer of a ride if you’re not being chased by a dragon,” Monica said, and Holly laughed nervously.

  Monica flew high then headed toward her cottage home. They landed right in front of the door, and Holly was in a significantly better mood after the flight. In fact, she seemed rather ecstatic. “That was amazing! So, since I’m a mystic, will I be able to fly on a broom?” Holly asked. “Whoa, where do I even get a broom from?”

  Monica snickered. “Well, brooms are for witches. So if it turns out you’re a witch, you should be able to fly one. Although, it takes a good bit of practice to get used to it. There are other mystics who can fly broomsticks; I’ve seen a dwarf fly one before.”

  “I’m pretty tall…so we could probably cross dwarf off the list of potential mystic ancestry, right?” Holly asked.

  Monica giggled as they entered the cottage. “Hey, Abs! Come here!” she called into the house.

  A few minutes went by, and eventually Abigail came slowly, making her way into the room looking rather dreary-eyed. “Honestly! What are you doing coming in here shouting and waking me…” Abigail spotted Holly. “I mean…um… Meow.”

  Holly’s jaw dropped. “Your cat talks!” she cried.

  “Abs, you’re not going to believe this, but Holly is a mystic!” Monica said.

  “Really?” Abigail asked, jumping up onto the nearest table by the foyer so that she didn’t have to look up so high at the two of them. “You?”

  “You talk,” Holly said again, soaking in this new bit of information. “Your cat talks.”

  “Abs isn’t just any old cat,” Monica said. “She’s my familiar. Witches use familiars to help ground them to nature. They’re like companion animals. Advice givers. Your council. Although, Abigail is not much of a familiar.”