by Morgana Best
Witches’ Diaries
Witches and Wine Book 8
Morgana Best
Witches’ Diaries
Witches and Wine, Book 8
Copyright © 20201by Morgana Best
All Rights Reserved
ISBN 9781922595157
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book may contain references to specific commercial products, process or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and/or trade names of products, which are trademarks or registered trademarks and/or trade names, and these are property of their respective owners. Morgana Best or her associates, have no association with any specific commercial products, process, or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and / or trade names of products.
Contents
Foreword
Glossary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
A Note from Morgana
Foreword
I hope you enjoy Witches’ Diaries!
I’d also like to offer you a free book, which is a prequel to another series, The Kitchen Witch series. Click on the image below to download your copy of A Magical Aussie Christmas (novella).
Glossary
All Morgana Best books are written in Australian, not USA, English.
Many Australian spellings and expressions are entirely different from US spellings and expressions. Below are just a few examples. It would take an entire book to list all the differences.
For example, people often think “How are you going?” (instead of “How are you doing?”) is an error, but it’s normal and correct for Aussies!
The author uses Australian spelling in all her books.
Here are a few examples: Mum instead of the US spelling Mom, neighbour instead of the US spelling neighbor, realise instead of the US spelling realize. It is Ms, Mr and Mrs in Australia, not Ms., Mr. and Mrs.; defence not defense; judgement not judgment; cosy and not cozy; 1930s not 1930’s; offence not offense; centre not center; towards not toward; jewellery not jewelry; favour not favor; mould not mold; two storey house not two story house; practise (verb) not practice (verb); odour not odor; smelt not smelled; travelling not traveling; liquorice not licorice; cheque not check; leant not leaned; have concussion not have a concussion; anti clockwise not counterclockwise; go to hospital not go to the hospital; sceptic not skeptic; aluminium not aluminum; learnt not learned. We have fancy dress parties not costume parties. We don’t say gotten. We say car crash (or accident) not car wreck. We say a herb not an herb as we pronounce the ‘h.’
The above are just a few examples.
It’s not just different words; Aussies sometimes use different expressions in sentence structure. We might eat a curry not eat curry. We might say in the main street not on the main street. Someone might be going well instead of doing well. We might say without drawing breath not without drawing a breath.
These are just some of the differences.
Please note that these are not mistakes or typos, but correct, normal Aussie spelling, terms, and syntax.
* * *
AUSTRALIAN SLANG AND TERMS
Benchtops - counter tops (kitchen)
Big Smoke - a city
Blighter - infuriating or good-for-nothing person
Blimey! - an expression of surprise
Bloke - a man (usually used in nice sense, “a good bloke”)
Blue (noun) - an argument (“to have a blue”)
Bluestone - copper sulphate (copper sulfate in US spelling)
Bluo - a blue laundry additive, an optical brightener
Boot (car) - trunk (car)
Bonnet (car) - hood (car)
Bore - a drilled water well
Budgie smugglers (variant: budgy smugglers) - named after the Aussie native bird, the budgerigar. A slang term for brief and tight-fitting men’s swimwear
Bugger! - as an expression of surprise, not a swear word
Bugger - as in “the poor bugger” - refers to an unfortunate person (not a swear word)
Bunging it on - faking something, pretending
Bush telegraph - the grapevine, the way news spreads by word of mouth in the country
Car park - parking lot
Cark it - die
Chooks - chickens
Come good - turn out okay
Copper, cop - police officer
Coot - silly or annoying person
Cream bun - a sweet bread roll with copious amounts of cream, plus jam (= jelly in US) in the centre
Crook - 1. “Go crook (on someone)” - to berate them. 2. (someone is) crook - (someone is) ill. 3. Crook (noun) - a criminal
Demister (in car) - defroster
Drongo - an idiot
Dunny - an outhouse, a toilet, often ramshackle
Fair crack of the whip - a request to be fair, reasonable, just
Flannelette (fabric) - cotton, wool, or synthetic fabric, one side of which has a soft finish.
Flat out like a lizard drinking water - very busy
Galah - an idiot
Garbage - trash
G’day - Hello
Give a lift (to someone) - give a ride (to someone)
Goosebumps - goose pimples
Gumboots - rubber boots, wellingtons
Knickers - women’s underwear
Laundry (referring to the room) - laundry room
Lamingtons - iconic Aussie cakes, square, sponge, chocolate-dipped, and coated with desiccated coconut. Some have a layer of cream and strawberry jam (= jelly in US) between the two halves.
Lift - elevator
Like a stunned mullet - very surprised
Mad as a cut snake - either insane or very angry
Mallee bull (as fit as, as mad as) - angry and/or fit, robust, super strong.
Miles - while Australians have kilometres these days, it is common to use expressions such as, “The road stretched for miles,” “It was miles away.”
Moleskins - woven heavy cotton fabric with suede-like finish, commonly used as working wear, or as town clothes
Mow (grass / lawn) - cut (grass / lawn)
Neenish tarts - Aussie tart. Pastry base. Filling is based on sweetened condensed milk mixture or mock cream. Some have layer of raspberry jam (jam = jelly in US). Topping is in two equal halves: icing (= frosting in US), usually chocolate on one side, and either lemon or pink on the other.
Pub - The pub at the south of a small town is often referred to as the ‘bottom pub’ and the pub at the north end of town, the ‘top pub.’ The size of a small town is often judged by the number of pubs - i.e. “It’s a three pub town.”
Real estate agent - realtor
Red cattle dog - (variant: blue cattle dog usually known as a ‘blue dog’) - referring to the breed of Austr
alian Cattle Dog. However, a ‘red dog’ is usually a red kelpie (another breed of dog)
Shoot through - leave
Shout (a drink) - to buy a drink for someone
Skull (a drink) - drink a whole drink without stopping
Stone the crows! - an expression of surprise
Takeaway (food) - Take Out (food)
Toilet - also refers to the room if it is separate from the bathroom
Torch - flashlight
Tuck in (to food) - to eat food hungrily
Ute /Utility - pickup truck
Vegemite - Australian food spread, thick, dark brown
Wardrobe - closet
Windscreen - windshield
* * *
Indigenous References
Bush tucker - food that occurs in the Australian bush
Koori - the original inhabitants/traditional custodians of the land of Australia in the part of NSW in which this book is set. Murri are the people just to the north. White European culture often uses the term, Aboriginal people.
Chapter 1
Business at the Bed and Breakfast was bad, given that several of our guests had been murdered.
I slumped at the kitchen table of Mugwort Manor. A Sydney paper had run an article on the murders at our Bed and Breakfast, and bookings had dropped to zero. The mug of coffee grew cool by my elbow as I carefully studied the books. If we didn’t get a steady stream of guests soon, we might have to close, and then what?
Really, people were far too fussy when it came to accommodation these days. We didn’t have mice or bed bugs. The sheets were freshly laundered each day, and it was close to a lovely beach. It’s a shame how a little bit of murder here and there turned folks away from a marvellous vacation in Lighthouse Bay.
“I have an idea, Valkyrie,” Aunt Maude said. She was washing the dishes while I struggled to think up a plan. Despite the fact Mugwort Manor was as old as the hills, it did have a dishwasher, but Aunt Maude said washing dishes helped her to think.
“Please tell me.” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice.
“Themed cottages.”
I sighed. “Aunt Maude, you know that the guest cottages here at Mugwort Manor are already themed!”
“Of course, I know that,” Maude protested. “We currently have Jungle, Atlantis, King Arthur, The Witcher, Game of Thrones—which is rather out of date now, anyway—and…”
I interrupted her. “Then what do you mean?”
“We should change up each theme. You know, we could redecorate the place, and I think each cottage should now have a murder theme.”
“Aunt Maude,” I said, “people won’t stay here because of the murders already. That’s a terrible idea.”
“People love terrible ideas,” Aunt Maude said. “Let’s make murder a selling point.”
“But isn’t it a little distasteful?”
“People love distasteful.”
I ran my hands over the books as I watched Aunt Maude put away a teacup. I thought it over. “I suppose so. I really don’t want to close.” I thought of getting a job in a cafe. My first job was in a cafe, and the chef was so mean and grumpy it still made me tremble.
“Each cottage doesn’t need to have a scary murder theme,” Aunt Maude added. “Hang on a moment. I’ve just had a great idea. We could theme each cottage after a room from Cluedo.”
Cluedo—or Clue, as it was known in some parts of the world—was my favourite board game. In Cluedo, there were nine rooms, and maybe it would be fun to dress the cottages up like a conservatory, a ballroom, a kitchen, a billiard room, a library, a lounge, a study, a hall, a dining room, and a cellar. Maybe Aunt Maude was onto something here.
She was still talking. “It would be such fun. Such fun! We could hide the six murder weapons, and the guest who finds one—say, the rope—wins a special prize,” Aunt Maude said. “Nothing fancy, but something cute to remember their time here at Mugwort Manor.”
I slapped my hand on the table. “I love it!”
It was decided. Instead of shying away from the fact that our Bed and Breakfast had seemingly become the murder capital of Australia, we would lean into our hard-earned reputation. Aunt Maude told her sisters, Agnes and Dorothy, about the plan. Aunt Agnes protested loudly, while the other two headed straight to the store to buy supplies, and I called a local contractor who was cheap and somewhat reliable.
In the space of four weeks, we had changed the theme of each cottage, had redone the website, and had sent out word to any possible guests.
“Was the chandelier a bit much?” Aunt Dorothy asked.
We peered up at the chandelier in the cottage that was themed to look like the hall.
“Yes,” Aunt Agnes replied. “I told you that before, Dorothy, at least five times. Weren’t you listening?”
“I got it for a great deal,” Aunt Maude said.
“You stole it from Harry Hook’s garage,” a voice said. We all turned. Lucas was standing in the doorway.
Aunt Maude’s face turned bright red. “I can’t go to jail. I’m delicate, and I have food allergies.”
“No, you don’t,” Aunt Agnes replied.
“Do you want him to lock me up?” Aunt Maude hissed.
Lucas exhaled. “Harry said you can keep it. He’s been wanting to get rid of it for years.”
“Are you here to make a booking?” Aunt Agnes said sharply.
“Er—no? I already live here.”
“Then you had best leave. We’re rather busy.”
“Charming,” Lucas replied. “I’m shocked you’re losing business with people skills like that.”
“Actually, Aunt Maude’s idea is a hit,” I told him. “We can’t seem to stop the phones from ringing, and we have a party of six arriving soon on a bus from Sydney.”
Aunt Agnes turned up her nose. “All this fuss over a silly board game. There is no strategy involved in Cluedo. It’s all guesswork.”
Lucas snorted. “Please. The player who selects Mrs Peacock starts one space closer to the first room than any other player, and Professor Plum’s nearest room is the study, which has a secret passage to the kitchen, which is the hardest room to reach. I always pick Plum.”
“How do you know so much about Cluedo?” I asked him.
“What do you think inspired me to become a cop?” Lucas winked at me, and I felt my cheeks redden.
Aunt Maude scratched her head. “But you’re not a cop. You’re a Cleaner.”
“That’s irrelevant, Maude,” Aunt Agnes snapped. “You take everything too literally. All of this is a terrible idea. We shouldn’t be making light of something as serious as murder.”
“We aren’t making light of anything,” Aunt Maude replied. “We’re making money.”
“We’re booked out for the next month.” Aunt Dorothy was holding and stroking a lamp, which she seemed to think was Breena in cat form.
“The next month, you say?” Aunt Agnes narrowed her eyes. “Well, that is better than I thought we’d do after the silly makeover.”
“People love mysteries,” Aunt Maude said, “and now they get to live in the world of one the most famous mysteries of all.”
“Looks like the bus is here,” Lucas said. “I had better leave.”
“Don’t you want to meet our mysterious guests?” Dorothy asked him.
“No,” Lucas replied. “But I do want to change the flickering light you’ve been complaining about, Pepper.”
“Go for it,” I said.
Lucas nodded. He kissed the top of my head lightly and left.
“Ready?” I said to Agnes, Maude, and Dorothy. The next few days would let us know whether our plan was going to save the Bed and Breakfast.
“Ready,” they all said at once.
When the bus pulled up outside Mugwort Manor, six people stepped out. The first was a short man dressed in yellow. He had a big, bushy white moustache and big, bushy white eyebrows that eclipsed half of his face.
“My name,” he boomed, “i
s Frances Wiggenbottom-Higgenhouse the Ninth.”
“This family had nine opportunities to change that name,” I muttered to myself, perplexed, “and they never did.”
“But I would prefer it if you called me Colonel Mustard.”
Aunt Maude giggled. She stepped forward to offer her hand. “Very good, Colonel. I didn’t mind a spot of acting myself when I was younger.”
This was news to me. Aunt Maude thought all actors were degenerates. It was one of the only things Aunt Maude and Aunt Agnes agreed upon. Of course, it didn’t help that one of Aunt Dorothy’s ex-husbands had been an Oscar nominated actor who stole their clothes and sold them at a market store in order to buy light bulbs for a modern artwork he wanted to create but never did.
“Another thespian. How absolutely marvellous.” The Colonel kissed Aunt Maude’s hand.
The next guest was a lady dressed in a slinky red dress. The dress looked expensive and vintage—perhaps from the forties.
“I’m Moxie Maisie,” she said breathily. She offered Aunt Agnes her hand, but Agnes frowned and glared at Maude and Dorothy. “This was all my idea.”
“Don’t you want to go by your alias?” Colonel Mustard asked.
“I’d rather not,” Moxie Maisie replied. “I can’t stand the name Scarlett. I knew a Scarlett at a boarding school in Sweden. Awful girl. Smelt like a horse and rather looked like one too. I got expelled for no reason really, just for force-feeding her carrots.”
“It’s more fun if we pretend that we’re the suspects,” another lady said. She was short, with long white hair, and dressed like a hippie from the seventies yet in threadbare clothes.
