by Rose Pressey
SPELLS À LA CARTE
Book 3 of the Mystic Café Series
by Rose Pressey
Elly Blair has finally honed her magic skills. In fact, her spells have improved so much that the National Organization of Magic plan to honor her with an award for most improved magic.
When the Organization member sent to present Elly with the award disappears, mysterious and sexy magic detective Tom Owenton quickly pops onto the scene looking for clues.
Strange magic is in the air and someone from Elly's past returns to Mystic Hollow. Will Elly's boyfriend Rory Covington be able to help search for answers. And will Elly be able to bake her way out of this magical crisis?
"Rose Pressey’s book are fun!” Janet Evanovich
Praise for Me and My Ghoulfriends by Rose Pressey
“Rose Pressey spins a delightful tale with misfits and romance that makes me cheer loudly.”
Coffee Time Romance
“Her characters are alive and full of quick witted charm and will make you laugh. The plot twists keep you turning the pages non-stop.”
ParaNormalRomance
“I absolutely loved this book! It had me chuckling from the beginning.”
Fallen Angel Reviews
Rose Pressey’s Complete Bookshelf (click title to preview/buy)
Chase Charley Series:
Book 1: For Old Crimes Sake
Book 2: Seems Like Old Crimes
Haunted Tour Guide Mystery Series:
These Haunts are Made for Walking
A Walk on the Haunted Side
Haunted Vintage Series
Book 1 – If You’ve Got It, Haunt It
Book 2 – All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt (July 2015)
Book 3 – Haunt Couture and Ghosts Galore (October 2015)
Maggie, P.I. Mystery Series:
Book 1 – Crime Wave
Book 2 – Murder is a Beach
The Halloween LaVeau Series:
Book 1 – Forever Charmed
Book 2 – Charmed Again
Book 3 – Third Time’s a Charm
Book 4 – Charmed, I’m Sure
The Hadley Wilds Series:
Book 1: Dead Girl’s Guide to Style
The Rylie Cruz Series:
Book 1 – How to Date a Werewolf
Book 2 – How to Date a Vampire
Book 3 – How to Date a Demon
The Larue Donovan Series:
Book 1 – Me and My Ghoulfriends
Book 2 – Ghouls Night Out
Book 3 – The Ghoul Next Door
The Mystic Café Series:
Book 1 – No Shoes, No Shirt, No Spells
Book 2 – Pies and Potions
Book 3 — Spells a la Carte
The Veronica Mason Series:
Book 1 – Rock ‘n’ Roll is Undead
A Trash to Treasure Crafting Mystery:
Book 1 – Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel
Book 2 – Honeysuckle Homicide
The Haunted Renovation Mystery Series:
Book 1 – Flip that Haunted House
Book 2 – The Haunted Fixer Upper
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, places, and brands are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Dedication
This is to you and you know who you are.
Acknowledgements
To my son, who brings me joy every single day and is the love of my life. To my mother, who introduced me to the love of books. To my husband, who encourages me and always has faith in me. A huge thank you to my editor, Eleanor Boyall. And to the readers who make writing fun.
Index
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 1
I wondered what would happen if I put too much of a magic spell onto this slice of peach pie. Usually I baked spells right into the pastries, but I always left one pie magic-free so that I could customize it with a spell for the more unique customers. Spells à la carte, I guess you could say.
The amazing scent of fresh peaches and buttery crust drifted through the air. It reminded me of time spent working in the café as a teenager. My Grandma Imelda had instructed me on baking, making sure I took my time and did it right. Now I knew she’d surreptitiously been adding magic to the food. Now it was my turn.
After stirring the spices together, I sprinkled them on top of the slice of pie. Energy from the magic zinged through the air like an electrical current. A bolt of red lightning zoomed across the kitchen and smacked into a pan sitting near the sink. The clang of the metal echoed through the room. Blue lightning shot the other way and smacked into the wall. My magic spells were a little on the turbulent side, but as long as they worked, that was the most important part.
I’d used a new recipe for the peach pie. On top of the golden, flaky top crust I added a delectable raspberry and blackberry sauce. The deep red sauce dripped down the side of the slice and oozed out onto the white plate. Inside the crust was full of fresh peaches. I’d never known just how therapeutic baking could be, but now it was my passion. Desserts weren’t the only foods I added spells to, but they were the easiest. Burgers were also good, along with mashed potatoes, which made an excellent base for the magic.
I added whipped topping to the slice and decorated the plate with a couple slices of peach. This was my masterpiece. My customer would never know that I was trying to help him with a little magic.
I’d overheard his conversation while I’d been cleaning the table behind him. He needed help getting rid of the stress in his life. My spell might not take it all away, but it would certainly help while he figured out his problem.
I’d taken over Mystic Café for my Grandma Imelda. She’d decided that it was time to retire to sunny Florida. Now she spent her days golfing and deep-sea fishing. “Just because I retired doesn’t mean I quit life,” she’d said.
Taking over the café had been kind of abrupt. One day I’d been in New York City, the next I was back in my hometown of Mystic Hollow, Kentucky. Grandma Imelda said it was best that I hadn’t known until the very last minute. She was probably right. I would have talked myself out of having anything to do with magic.
I’d left my life behind to come back, but it hadn’t been a tough decision. After a bad breakup with my ex-boyfriend and a job from hell, I’d been ready for the change. I’d had no idea what I was getting myself in
to, but now I wouldn’t change a thing. Grandma Imelda had basically thrown me into the job and let me figure it out as I went. She’d thought that was the best way to learn. Of course I’d had my doubts, but everything seemed to be working out for the best now.
I’d had no idea growing up that people in the town of Mystic Hollow had been getting magic. Nothing too drastic. Spells for happiness, good luck, and so on. They didn’t work miracles, but every little bit counted. Yes, life was good now.
The spell had just about simmered down now. Just a few sparks popped up from the pastry until they all fizzled out. That was how I knew that it was ready. Giving the spell out before it had time to finish would make it ineffective.
Now it was time to make sure my customer got the pie. I hoped that it gave him the help that he needed.
With Grandma Imelda in Florida, she wouldn’t be able to help me if I made a mistake. So it was important that I got every spell right. Luckily, I thought I was past making mistakes now. It had been touch and go there for a while. I’d even gotten the café shut down. All of that was behind me now.
I glanced over at the shelf at the far wall of the kitchen. That was where all the magic began. The gigantic spellbook was the most important part of my magical process. I knew a lot of basic spells, but there was no way I would ever learn all the spells in that book. Across the front of the book in gold-embossed letters were the words Mystic Magic. The book called out to me every time I stepped into the café. Each page was a thick, cream-colored paper with romantic black font that scrolled across, reminiscent of older times. Each one had its own unique symbol placed in the center at the top.
Taking on the café had been a lot at first, but I had my best friend Mary Jane O’Donnell to help me. She worked in the café and was a supportive friend. My boyfriend Rory Covington had been understanding when I’d told him about the magic. I’d expected him to run the opposite direction.
Then there had also been the little thing with the investigator, Tom Owenton. He had been called to the café when I’d messed up the magic. That all seemed like so long ago now. It had been a while since I’d seen him. That was probably for the best. A spark had zinged between us and I figured it was best if we stayed away from each other. Things were good with Rory and I didn’t want to mess that up. Tom had his life with the Organization and I would never fit in with that lifestyle.
“Elly!” Mary Jane’s boisterous voice rang out and I whipped around. She had popped her head around the little ordering window. “Table four is waiting for his pie.”
Her penny-colored hair peeked out from under her white baseball cap. The front of the hat read Mystic Café in black letters. Mary Jane had been so excited when I’d given her the hat that I was sure she wouldn’t have been any more thrilled with a million dollars. Mary Jane had a thing for hats. The last time I’d seen her without a hat was in ninth grade when a boy had stolen her knit cap and tossed it in the trash can. I’d never liked that kid.
I wiped a little bit of the peach filling that had spilled onto the side of the plate off with a napkin and then set the plate onto the window sill. “It’s ready for him.”
Mary Jane looked at the pie and then back at me. “Did you add… you know?”
I smiled. “I’ll never tell.”
Chapter 2
Mary Jane had known about the magic long before I had. She’d promised Grandma Imelda she wouldn’t tell until the time was right. I was surprised that she’d been able to keep the secret. Mary Jane had a voice loud enough to break the sound barrier. She loved to talk and she was known to let a few things slip once in a while. I’d learned that the hard way.
Not long ago I’d learned that my sensitivity to magic had increased. Thank goodness things had started to settle down now. I still felt magic all around town though. It was so strong at times that it gave me a headache. When someone used it nearby, I felt it. I thought the particularly strong spells were the ones giving me the headaches. It was hard to get used to this since not that long ago I hadn’t even known about the magic around town.
Not to mention that now I was sending out a magical aura. Grandma Imelda told me that Mary Jane was sensitive to my magical energy. It was affecting her. She had never been sensitive in the past when Grandma Imelda had used magic. Grandma Imelda didn’t know why this had changed. What would happen now that my energy was affecting Mary Jane? I had no idea. Maybe that was why my magic had been improving.
As Mary Jane carried the plate to the table, I decided to head over and see what happened. I wasn’t sure if the spell would work, but I had my fingers crossed. Also I wanted to see if the customer liked my new peach pie recipe. After the café closed I was seriously considering having a slice.
As soon as Mary Jane left the plate, I sashayed over to the table behind the man and pretended to sort the sugar packets in the little container. The recipient of my magic was with another man, who hadn’t ordered dessert. I wouldn’t hold that against him though.
His phone rang again. I leaned a little closer to eavesdrop.
“You’re kidding,” he said.
I held my breath, waiting to hear the outcome of the call.
“That’s great. Thank you,” he said.
Now I was excited.
The man clicked off his phone. “Yes! That was them. I got the apartment,” he said to his friend sitting across from him.
“Yes!” I said without thinking.
He turned around and looked at me.
“I got the sugar packet to go back in the container,” I said.
He quirked a smile and nodded. I knew he thought I was wacko, but I didn’t care. My spell had been successful. I had been on a roll lately. I slipped back toward the kitchen with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.
Yes, things were definitely better in the spell department. I was thankful that the rough time I’d had when I first took over my grandmother’s café was behind me. Sure, it had taken a while for me to get the hang of the spells, but I guess there was a bit of a learning curve. But I finally think I was getting the hang of things.
I grabbed a couple of oven mitts and pulled the freshly baked biscuits from the oven. I placed them on the counter so I could add the final dose of the spell. That would come in the form of a dot of butter on top. I’d also added a happiness spell to the dough.
I’d just finished the last biscuit when Mary Jane bounced through the door. I’d seen that look on her face before and I knew I probably wouldn’t like what she was about to say.
“Is something wrong with the food?” I asked.
Mary Jane frowned. “No, not that I know of.”
“Okay, then what is it? I know something’s wrong by the look on your face.” I pointed at her face.
She picked at the hem of her apron. “There’s someone in the dining room asking to see you.”
The last time that had happened I had been under investigation for a spell gone wrong. I was doing better with my magic, so I really didn’t think that was the case now. At least I hoped not.
Mary Jane and I slipped over to the little service window so that we could spy on this person.
Mary Jane nudged me. “Scoot over, you’re taking up all the room.”
I inched to my right. “Who is it?”
Mary Jane threw her hands up. “How am I supposed to know?”
“I mean is it that woman over there?” I asked. She was the only one I didn’t recognize.
Mary Jane shook her head. “Yes, that’s her.”
The woman wore her dark hair pulled up into a bun. She wore a tailored black suit with a white shirt underneath. A pearl necklace was draped around her neck and matching earrings decorated her earlobes. She looked as if she was on official business with a black leather briefcase in her hand.
I kept my gaze focused like a laser on the woman. “I don’t like the looks of this.”
“I don’t either,” Mary Jane whispered.
“I suppose I should go out there and see what she w
ants, right?”
I wasn’t looking forward to this encounter. What could the woman possibly want?
Mary Jane didn’t look at me, but she said, “Yeah, I suppose you should. Just think positive. It’s probably nothing bad.”
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up. But you’re not a great actress.” I wiped my hands on the apron and pushed through the swing door toward the woman. She had taken a seat at the counter now and was perusing the menu. By the scrunched-up look on her face, I guessed she didn’t like what she saw.
I stepped over to the woman and plastered a huge smile on my face. “Welcome to Mystic Café. May I help you?”
She looked me up and down. ”Are you Elly Blair?”
At that moment I wanted to say no, but I knew that wasn’t an option. “Yes,” I said, a little guarded.
She shoved her hand toward me. “My name is Reagan Baer-Turner.”
I stared at her. Was I supposed to recognize the name?
“With the National Organization of Magic,” she added.
That was what I’d been afraid of. I released a deep breath and then asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
She chuckled. “No, not at all. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Whew. “In that case, can I get you something to eat or drink?” I gestured toward the glass dessert display as if I was a gameshow hostess. “We have some of the best desserts this side of the Mason-Dixon line.”
She glanced down at the menu again and then placed it back on the counter. “No, thank you. Actually, I’ll just get right on with why I’m here. I came to tell you that you have won an award with the Organization.”
“Wow, I didn’t see that coming,” Mary Jane said from across the room. I’d known she had been listening.
Now I was excited. I’d never won an award before. Me? An award? “What’s the award for?” I asked.
