by Joyce
Praise for Spell Booked
“A delightful premise, a couple of enchanting protagonists, and cats as essential familiars . . . It is a promising series for urban fantasy and paranormal mystery readers.”
—Library Journal
Praise for the Missing Pieces Mysteries
A FINDER’S FEE
“The Lavene team has done it again: they’ve produced a first-class cozy with a strong element of the paranormal and made every single word believable . . . You can never go wrong with a Joyce and Jim Lavene book.”
—MyShelf.com
“A great read . . . I loved how this lighthearted whodunit flowed from chapter to chapter with a fresh take on the well-written storyline . . . I eagerly await the next book in this delightfully charming series.”
—Dru’s Book Musings
“The Missing Pieces cozy series is one of my favorites . . . The Lavenes are weaving an engrossing tale centered in a small community on the Outer Banks of North Carolina and populated with a strong cast of characters.”
—Kittling: Books
A SPIRITED GIFT
“An engaging mystery . . . Fans know this writing duet can always be banked on for a strong thriller.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Readers will find themselves drawn into the investigation of the death. Throw in a little ghostly activity [and] the promise of a pirate’s treasure and the reader will be hooked.”
—Fresh Fiction
A TOUCH OF GOLD
“Paranormal amateur sleuth fans will enjoy observing Dae use cognitive and ESP mental processes to uncover a murderer . . . Readers will enjoy.”
—Midwest Book Review
“The Lavenes once again take readers into a setting with a remarkable past, filled with legends and history . . . The characters are vivid and fascinating.”
—Lesa’s Book Critiques
A TIMELY VISION
“Grabbed my attention on page one . . . Puzzles are unraveled and secrets spilled in a fast-paced paranormal mystery full of quirky characters you’ll want as friends.”
—Elizabeth Spann Craig, author of Death Pays a Visit
“I could almost smell and feel the salty sea air of Duck as I was reading. The authors definitely did a bang-up job with the setting, and I look forward to more of Dae’s adventures and the hint of romance with Kevin.”
—A Cup of Tea and a Cozy for Me
“This is a mystery with strong characters, a vivid sense of place, and touches of humor and the paranormal. A Timely Vision is one of the best traditional mysteries I’ve read this year.”
—Lesa’s Book Critiques
Praise for the Renaissance Faire Mysteries
TREACHEROUS TOYS
“An engaging whodunit made fresh by changing the season . . . This exciting amateur sleuth is filled with quirky characters as team Lavene provide another engaging murder investigation.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
HARROWING HATS
“The reader will have a grand time. This is an entertaining read with a well-crafted plot. Readers of the series will not be disappointed. New readers will want to glom the backlist so they don’t miss a single minute.”
—Fresh Fiction
“The Renaissance Faire Mysteries are always an enjoyable read . . . Joyce and Jim Lavene provide a complex, exciting murder mystery that amateur sleuth fans will appreciate.”
—Midwest Book Review
DEADLY DAGGERS
“Will keep you entertained from the first duel, to the last surprise . . . If you like fun reads that will let you leave this world for a time, this series is for you.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Never a dull moment! Filled with interesting characters, a fast-paced story, and plenty of humor, this series never lets its readers down.”
—Fresh Fiction
GHASTLY GLASS
“A unique look at a Renaissance Faire. This is a colorful, exciting amateur-sleuth mystery filled with quirky characters, who endear themselves to the reader as Joyce and Jim Lavene write a delightful whodunit.”
—Midwest Book Review
WICKED WEAVES
“This jolly series debut . . . serves up medieval murder and mayhem.”
—Publishers Weekly
“[A] new exciting . . . series . . . Part of the fun of this solid whodunit is the vivid description of the Renaissance Village; anyone who has not been to one will want to go . . . Cleverly developed.”
—Midwest Book Review
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Joyce and Jim Lavene
Peggy Lee Garden Mysteries
PRETTY POISON
FRUIT OF THE POISONED TREE
POISONED PETALS
PERFECT POISON
A CORPSE FOR YEW
Renaissance Faire Mysteries
WICKED WEAVES
GHASTLY GLASS
DEADLY DAGGERS
HARROWING HATS
TREACHEROUS TOYS
Missing Pieces Mysteries
A TIMELY VISION
A TOUCH OF GOLD
A SPIRITED GIFT
A HAUNTING DREAM
A FINDER’S FEE
Retired Witches Mysteries
SPELL BOOKED
LOOKING FOR MR. GOOD WITCH
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
LOOKING FOR MR. GOOD WITCH
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2015 by Joyce Lavene and Jim Lavene.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME design are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
For more information, visit penguin.com
eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-62543-9
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / October 2015
Cover art by Mary Ann Lasher.
Cover design by Lesley Worrell.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
For all the lovely witches we’ve met since writing our first book. Thanks for all your support and encouragement. Merry Meet!
Contents
Praise for Joyce and Jim Lavene
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Joyce and Jim Lavene
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
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 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
“Good night, my little witch.”
I held my breath as I waited for possible retribution.
Joe wasn’t supposed to know about my witchcraft, hadn’t known for the thirty years we’d been married—until the last few days. It had been necessary to tell him. He could never mention it outside of an enchanted space where the information was protected from the Grand Council of Witches.
He’d forgotten as he was falling asleep. There was nothing to do but wait.
Just as I became sure no one had heard us, a bright light filled our bedroom. My heart beat fast as I thought of what could happen to Joe. A rush of water, as though I were standing under a waterfall, filled my senses. I fought for the next breath, even though water is my element.
And then it was gone. The bedroom was dark, and we were alone.
I took a large, cleansing breath and let it out.
Joe patted my side. “Okay over there?”
“Yes.” For now.
CHAPTER 1
Heat of Fire,
Burn away
All the trace of yesterday.
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Fire is the element of change, will and passion. All forms of magic involve fire.” Elsie Langston used her ritual sword to draw a circle around the fire that burned brightly in the cave under our shop, Smuggler’s Arcane. The fire followed the circle and made the area brighter.
“I am a fire witch. My direction is south. My color is red. My time is midday. My tool is the sword.” Elsie’s faded red curls bobbed up and down on her head as she spoke with conviction. She’d been an active witch for sixty years. Her bright green eyes were powerful with all she had seen and done over a lifetime.
“Fire is the realm of sexuality and passion, the spark of divinity which is in all living things.” She laughed. “In other words, I’m one hot mama!”
Everyone in the cave laughed.
We were attempting to teach our new witch, Dorothy Lane. It was a slow, painful process. We had been at it for months, but it wasn’t getting any easier. Elsie, Olivia and I had learned our magic at our mothers’ and grandmothers’ feet. Explaining it to someone was more difficult than we’d imagined.
Dorothy had been adopted into a family without magic that had no idea who or what she was. Olivia was actually her mother, but they hadn’t been reunited until after Olivia’s death.
It was complicated.
Olivia’s ghost had clung to a half life to spend time with her daughter. She wasn’t a practicing witch anymore, but she still possessed important knowledge of the craft.
“I am Olivia Dunst, and I am an air witch.” Her voice wasn’t as solid as Elsie’s, but it was still strong with purpose. “Dorothy, honey, would you mind drawing the circle in the sand with my rune staff? It’s a little hard for me to hold a solid object for so long.”
“Oh sure, Mom.” Dorothy popped to her feet from one of the carved and weathered chairs around the circle. She wore her straight brown hair in a short pageboy style that swung into her face as she moved. She drew a circle in the sand with Olivia’s rune staff.
“Thank you, honey.” Olivia’s face wasn’t as solid as it had been before she was killed either. She was still pretty, and her carefully coiffed hair was still blond. She was elegantly clad in the outfit we’d chosen for her to be buried in even though we’d known by then that she was a ghost. “My direction is east. My color is yellow, and my time is dawn. Obviously my wonderful staff is my tool.”
The runes collected on the staff through the years began to glow in Dorothy’s hand. The magic with Olivia’s staff was only possible because of their blood tie. Elsie or I couldn’t have done it.
“Air is the element of the intellect, the most powerful tool for change. It is psychic, and essential to all spells and rituals.” Olivia’s voice grew stronger as she concentrated on her words. The runes on the staff continued to glow, but there was no actual air magic from her words or actions.
“Most powerful?” Elsie joked. “I don’t think so. Right now I’d say not too powerful at all.”
“Elsie!” I hissed. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that this is a solemn ceremony of declaration.”
“Sorry, Molly.” Elsie put her hand over her mouth. “When did you get to be such a poop?”
Everyone laughed at that too, of course.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I was wrong about it being a solemn declaration, Dorothy.”
“Oh.” Dorothy batted her lashes quickly. It was her habit when she was confused or nervous. “Does that mean it’s a party or something?”
“No.” Elsie heaved a deep sigh. “Molly’s right. It’s a solemn declaration of ourselves and our magic. I’m sorry. Is anyone else hungry?”
“It’s probably the boredom,” Brian Fuller said. “We could speed this up some. I’m not sure how solemn it’s supposed to be, but it could be faster.”
“That’s because you’re not trained to be a witch,” Olivia told him. “You’ve gone a long time on natural ability—and, of course, your wonderful good looks.” Her opaque form fluttered. “What was I saying?”
“Let me hold the rune staff.” Brian took it from Dorothy.
He wasn’t a blood relative of Olivia’s, but he was a powerful air witch, more powerful than Olivia had ever been. Brian wasn’t a member of our coven. We were hoping he would be at some point, but he hadn’t declared himself. He was a virile young witch with a headful of unruly brown hair and seductive blue eyes. My mother would have said he was trouble with a capital T.
“I am an air witch!” he declared loudly toward the ceiling of the large cave. “I am Brian Fuller, son of Schadt and Yuriza Fuller, grandson of Esmeralda and Abdon Fuller. My time is dawn. My direction is east. My magic is powerful.”
As his words echoed through the cave, a windstorm grew and beat at the walls and swelled the air. It rose like a hurricane around us, swirling rocks and sand.
“Cool!” Dorothy yelled from the middle of the storm. “How’d you do that?”
“You have to suck it up from inside you and let it go,” Brian told her. “If I were using my wand instead of Olivia’s staff, it would be even better.”
Brian was also a little bit of a show-off.
Olivia’s ghostly form was blown around by the elemental forces he had called. She banged back and forth against the walls like a sock puppet. “Brian, could you turn this off now, please? I feel a little dizzy.”
“This is all well and good,” I said to Brian. “But you aren’t in control of the air you’ve summoned.”
Brian shrugged. “Sure, I am. I can stop it anytime.”
“Please do so.” Olivia’s voice sounded as though it were in a tunnel. “I don’t like to think what my hair is going to look like.”
“It looks just like it always does,” Elsie shouted above the wind. “It’s not like you need a brush once you’re dead.”
“Yes, get it under control,” I added to Olivia’s pleas.
“No problem.” Brian tapped the staff on the ground. Nothing happened.
He grinned at Dorothy. “It’s because I’m using someone else’s magic tool.” He took his wand out of the pocket of his brown cargo shorts but still held Olivia’s staff. “I command the spirits of the air to cease.”
“I think it’s worse.” Dorothy put her arms protectively over her head.
“You have the same problem we do.” Elsie held tightly to her chair as the wind buffeted it. “Except you have too much power and not enough training. We have a lot of training but we’re short on the power.”
“Oh, right, Elsie,” Olivia called out. “Exactly the same but completely different.”
Brian put down Olivia’s staff and addressed the problem with his wand. “I am an air witch, and I demand this to end. Stop!”
The hurricane whistled through the cave. It was beginning to dislodge rocks from the ceiling, and they fell at our feet.
He looked at me. “Molly? Any ideas?”
I considered the problem. “Perhaps if you try your wand and the rune stick again. Olivia, I know you have no real magic, but it’s your staff. Could you come down and help him?”
Olivia was trying hard to keep her form together. “I’ll do my best. It’s not easy being a dead witch. I haven’t mastered my ghostly powers to replace my magic yet.”
She managed to drop from the ceiling, where the storm had whipped her, and alighted at Brian’s side to grasp her staff with him.
“Now, concentrate, both of you,” Elsie suggested. “My hair is literally blowing off my head.”
Olivia and Brian worked together, but the storm only barely subsided. I beckoned to Elsie and Dorothy, and we all put our hands on the staff to add our magic. Though all our magic was not of the air, still the turmoil slowed and finally stopped.
We all stared at one another with our hair standing at odd angles on our heads (except for Olivia) and then started laughing.
“Okay.” Brian made a swipe at his hair with one hand. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’m not bored or mostly asleep now. Are you, Dorothy?”
“No.” She pulled her pretty blue top back on her shoulders and pushed at her short hair. “But maybe there’s something to be said for training and control.”
