by Molly Fitz
30
My head felt foggy. I heard hushed voices speaking around me but couldn’t make out any of the words.
Ugh. How long had I been out? What day was it?
I’d had the craziest dream filled with talking cats, evil grandpas, and some kind of flaming angel. Well, that was one for the sleep journal. My therapist would love hearing about the story my nocturnal brain had concocted this time.
I brought my hands up to wipe the winkies from the corners of my eyes, then opened them.
A sleek black cat with a cute white patch on his chest stared down at me with glowing golden eyes. Huh, that was weird. When had I adopted a cat? I’d only lived in this town for a couple weeks, tops. I hadn’t even unpacked all my boxes yet, but I’d gone out and adopted a pet?
Someone placed a warm hand on my forehead. Who was here with me? I was in my own room, not a hospital. Yet these people seemed to know me.
Fear sent my heart galloping full speed ahead as I turned and found a pale-haired woman wearing a simple pantsuit and a giant smile. “Oh, Tawny. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. This time I spotted an incredibly handsome man with a salt-and-pepper beard and nicely toned arms standing behind the lady. His light gray eyes appeared curious—and also familiar somehow.
“May I have a moment with her?” he asked the others, who agreed and swiftly departed. Even the cat left. Wow, they really had him trained!
The handsome stranger sank down onto his knees and gripped my hand between his. “How do you feel?” he asked, concern reflecting in his pale eyes.
“Okay,” I answered cautiously. It didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt me, but what was he doing in my house while I slept? That was definitely kind of creepy. “Confused.”
He glanced back toward the door. It was still shut.
“What do you remember?” he pressed, turning my hand over in his as if he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
I tried so hard, but nothing came to mind. Just the weird dream and long, pleasant sleep. I knew my answer would disappoint him, but I also had no idea what to say in order to make him happy. Instead, I simply asked, “About what?”
He licked his lips and tried again. “What’s my name?”
“I don’t know. Is it Steve? You look like a Steve.” I smiled to soften the blow in case I got it wrong. Even though this man was a stranger to me, he clearly knew me.
The man hung his head and chuckled. When he looked back at me, I thought I caught the glimmer of a tear that refused to fall.
“Forgetting is the protocol,” he said, making me even more confused than before. “I mean, it’s the usual procedure.” He shrugged.
I furrowed my brow but said nothing. What could I say? Hey, crazy guy. I have no idea what you’re taking about. Get out of my bedroom!
He continued on, undeterred. “But, Tawny, there is nothing usual about you.”
“Who are you?” I asked. My throat felt dry. My head foggy. None of this was making any sense.
He waved his hand in a semi-circle, then flicked his index finger straight up, watching me the whole time.
“Who am I?” he prompted again. “Think, Tawny. You know this.”
And suddenly the fog lifted, revealing images from the past day and a half. Fluffikins sharing his memories with me as he purred on my lap, Greta propelling me through the air with strong and steady wings, that old guy in the suit whose beard reached down to his belt buckle, but more than anything… the man standing right before me.
I couldn’t stop the enormous smile that blossomed on my face. “You’re Parker.”
“And what do you last remember happening?”
A frightening vision filled my mind. We’d almost been defeated. A horrible pain. I passed out.
“Melony and her grandfather,” I said, trying to slow the swirl of images as I spoke. “They were in Mrs. Haberdash’s house. Said they had bigger fish to fry. That you were dead. Greta gave me her armor of light, but then I gave it back. Did she get Melony out of the house?” That had been the last thing I’d said before losing consciousness—to get Melony out of there—based on a sneaking suspicion I had that somehow the house amplified their family bond that much further. But had I been correct?
Parker raised my hand to his lips and gave it a lingering kiss. “Yes, you were right about everything. The moment Greta vaulted through the window with Melony in her grasp, the connection broke and the others were able to overpower her grandfather.”
“But why?” I knew Melony’s grandfather had urged her not to leave the house, but I still didn’t understand the full extent of it.
“Simple,” Parker said with a crooked grin. “Lila Haberdash lived her entire life in that house. Her parents lived there before her, and their parents before them. Over time, the house has absorbed generations of family magic—so much so that it became a part of them.”
“And it amplified their bond,” I said, finally understanding.
He nodded and looked as if he wanted to say something else, but I still had more questions that needed to get out of me.
“What were they after? Why did they need that extra power if Mrs. Haberdash was already dead?”
“They were never after her. At least the grandfather wasn’t.” He took a deep breath and squeezed my hand before letting it go. “They wanted the board.”
“Who? Fluffikins?”
“Yes. And Connie. And Greta. And Buckley. And—”
“All of you.” I exhaled slowly, taking this new information in. If Melony and her grandfather had been successful, they could have destroyed the magical balance completely. Could have done whatever they wanted with all that power, no matter how horrible.
Parker nodded, confirming my suspicions. “We are the strongest in the region. If they were able to assume all our power for themselves, they’d be unstoppable. They thought with Lila out of the way, they could use the house to help accomplish that.”
“But they failed.”
“They failed. Thank goodness for that.” Parker looked so tired now. Was that because he’d been worried about me? How long had I been out? How badly had he been hurt?
“Where were you?” I asked gently.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to take offense. “Incapacitated,” he stated simply.
“Oh.” I decided not to press further. Instead I switched back to the previous topic, “So their whole plan hinged on everyone coming to the house?”
“Since it was a major source of their power, yes. But they were also counting on us coming one by one, so we’d be easier to defeat. That’s why Melony’s grandfather took my form, so he could sway our actions. He dropped just enough hints to raise suspicions, then sent us to the power points in order to divide us.”
This all made sense, but it didn’t complete the puzzle. Not yet. “But they didn’t kill me or Greta when they had the chance. Why?” This more than anything, I needed to know.
Parker shrugged and pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I don’t think Melony ever quite understood the full extent of her grandfather’s plan. I don’t think we do, either.”
“What happened to him?”
“Fluffikins dropped him off in the farthest possible region from here. New Zealand, I think.”
“But he’ll be back.” This wasn’t a question, because I already knew for sure it would happen.
“Yes. This time we’ll be expecting him, though.”
“What happens now?”
“The board will find a new Liaison to the Force, and I’ll work at filling Lila’s very big shoes as Town Witch. You go back to living your normie life. Hopefully, though, you’ll be up for frequent visits from your new landlord and friend?”
“I’d like that,” I said, feeling like an old-timey movie heroine. Now would have been the perfect time for Parker to sweep me off my feet—or rather my bed—and give me that sweet and perfect first kiss.
Instead, he l
eaned forward and hugged me tight, then whispered in my ear, “This will be our little secret. Okay?”
“My lips are sealed. Well, on one condition,” I whispered back.
“Anything,” he promised. He also wouldn’t stop smiling.
“Would you please fix my hot water heater before you go? I could really use a nice long shower.”
* * *
Think Tawny’s magical adventures with the PTA have come to an end? Not a chance…
* * *
CLICK HERE to get your copy of Psychic for Hire so that you can keep reading this series today!
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What’s Next?
After my last assignment almost killed me, I thought I was done with the Paranormal Temp Agency. Turns out we were just getting started…
* * *
The board of paranormal liaisons is down a member, leaving Beech Grove vulnerable to outside magical influence. Worse still, the stray cats who work as our field agents are disappearing from the streets—and they’re not winding up in shelters.
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Now my boss, a black cat named Mr. Fluffikins, has ordered me to go undercover as a phony psychic and find out what’s happening to the missing feline agents.
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Last week I didn’t even know magic existed; this week it’s up to me to help save it.
* * *
Yup, all in a day’s work for this part-time psychic.
* * *
PSYCHIC FOR HIRE is now available.
* * *
CLICK HERE to get your copy so that you can keep reading this series today!
Sneak Peek of Psychic for Hire
My name’s Tawny Bigford. I’m a 35-year-old part-time romance author, and I just found out that magic is real.
You see, it all started one morning when I stumbled upon my new landlady’s dead body. From there I was whisked away by a dashing cop who wasn’t exactly there to investigate her murder. He delivered me to the PTA—no, not the one you’re thinking—the Paranormal Temp Agency.
They’re the special governing body that protects magical interests in our fair Peach Plains region of Georgia and are one of many such boards set up all across the globe.
Once they determined I was not at fault for my landlady’s death, they ordered me to act as her temporary replacement. Not as a landlady, but as the official Beech Grove Town Witch. Oh, boy!
From there it was all talking cats, flying brooms, and one twisty turn after another. Every time someone actually bothered to answer one of my questions, at least a dozen more popped up in its place.
By the time we caught the real killer on the loose, I had a terrible headache from trying to keep it all straight. Here’s what I do know…
The board is made up of six paranormal liaisons plus the Town Witch and the assigned Diplomat in charge. Our Diplomat is a little black cat who loves following rules almost as much as he loves making demands; his name is Mr. Fluffikins.
Then we have sweet, matronly Greta as the liaison to Schools. I recently found out she’s an angel—um, wow!
Parker Barnes is that same cop who initially brought me into this crazy supernatural ring. He’s also the reason I remember everything that happened even though the others attempted to wipe my memory. Beyond that, his role is a bit more complicated. I’m still trying to figure it out for myself.
Lastly, we have Connie in charge of Commerce, Buckley as head of Agriculture, and some old dude in a suit who serves as the emissary for Cemeteries.
I was recently the temporary Town Witch, but now that they have someone more permanent to fill the role, I should be out of a job. The board works with temps for a reason. They’re easier to control, and the fewer people who know the full truth about what they do, the better. They’d rather tell lots of people part truths than let anyone too deep into their circle and risk exposure. I guess that’s why I find them so confusing.
Even though I’m a little sad to have lost the magic they granted me—I only had it for less than twenty-four hours, mind you—I’m more than ready to get back to my normal life.
The boss cat, however, seems to have other ideas…
Uh-oh.
* * *
It’s been three days since the madcap magical adventure that changed my world and everything I knew about it. Three days since yet another cold shower led to a murder mystery that turned into a magical conspiracy that almost cost me my life.
Three days.
That’s longer than the entire adventure lasted. I don’t even think a full twenty-four hours passed between the time when I stumbled over Mrs. Haberdash’s corpse and the PTA board caught the bad guys and put a stop to their dastardly plan.
In fact, I know it wasn’t.
So how can such a short span of time change literally everything?
For one thing, I have a new landlord now. And while my previous landlady Mrs. Haberdash studiously avoided me, Parker Barnes finds at least half a dozen excuses to stop by every single day.
Yes, that Parker.
It’s kind of hard to push magic out of my mind when the same guy who introduced me to it in the first place is always hanging around my doorstep.
And it definitely doesn’t help that I have a big fat crush on him. Ever since my ex-husband found a new wife—while we were still married, I might add—I’ve sworn off love for a life of complete personal freedom.
So while Parker’s swoony gray eyes may make my heart gallop, they also make my stomach churn. That’s why I’ve imposed three new rules.
Three days. Three rules.
They are no more magic, no more men, and no more madcap adventures.
That was it. Should’ve been easy enough to follow. Especially since the rest of the board assumes I have no recollection of what happened.
But then…
Crash!
I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall as fast as my feet would carry me. Too late I realized that I probably should have found some kind of weapon to take with me.
It was hardly six in the morning. Who could have possibly…?
A spark of light flooded the living room even though I hadn’t flipped the switch.
“Good morning, Tawny,” Mr. Fluffikins said from where he was seated right beside a broken vase that had once held an arrangement of fake flowers. I didn’t have the money to constantly buy fresh, and I hated watching something so pretty and vibrant wilt and die, so it had always been fake for me.
I glanced from the mess to the cat who had no doubt created it and back again, then threw my hands in the air and headed back down the hall toward my bedroom.
“Tawny, wait!” he cried after me. “I know you remember!”
I mumbled my three rules to myself. Fluffikins’s appearance threatened to break at least two of said rules, and that was not okay.
“Go away,” I mumbled and continued to drag myself back toward bed.
“I won’t,” he insisted, trailing after me now. “Not until you at least hear me out.”
“I’m not making you breakfast.” The last time he appeared at my place before sunrise that’s what he had demanded. It was a safe bet that’s what he wanted now.
“I already ate,” he countered. “And you clearly haven’t forgotten anything despite the fact I very clearly remember wiping your memory.”
This stopped me dead in my tracks. I shuddered and then asked, “What do you want then?”
“The PTA has a new assignment for you,” he said, and then my knees gave out beneath me.
* * *
PSYCHIC FOR HIRE is now available.
* * *
CLICK HERE to get your copy so that you can keep reading this series today!
ABOUT MOLLY FITZ
While USA Today bestselling autho
r Molly Fitz can't technically talk to animals, she and her doggie best friend, Sky Princess, have deep and very animated conversations as they navigate their days. Add to that, five more dogs, a snarky feline, comedian husband, and diva daughter, and you can pretty much imagine how life looks at the Casa de Fitz.
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Molly lives in a house on a high hill in the Michigan woods and occasionally ventures out for good food, great coffee, or to meet new animal friends.
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Writing her quirky, cozy animal mysteries is pretty much a dream come true, but sometimes she also goes by the names Melissa Storm and Mila Riggs and writes a very different kind of story.
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Learn more, grab the free app, or sign up for her newsletter at www.MollyMysteries.com!
PET WHISPERER P.I.
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Angie Russo just partnered up with Blueberry Bay’s first ever talking cat detective. Along with his ragtag gang of human and animal helpers, Octo-Cat is determined to save the day… so long as it doesn’t interfere with his schedule. Start with book 1, Kitty Confidential.
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PARANORMAL TEMP AGENCY
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Tawny Bigford’s simple life takes a turn for the magical when she stumbles upon her landlady’s murder and is recruited by a talking black cat named Fluffikins to take over the deceased’s role as the official Town Witch for Beech Grove, Georgia. Start with book 1, Witch for Hire.
