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Witchy Weddings: A Magic Witch Mystery Series: The complete Touch of Magic series

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by Danielle Garrett




  Witchy Weddings

  The complete A Touch of Magic Mysteries series

  Danielle Garrett

  Roots & Wings Press

  Copyright © 2021 by Danielle Garrett

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Books By Danielle Garrett

  Cupid in a Bottle

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Newly Wed and Slightly Dead

  Introduction

  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

  Couture and Curses

  Introduction

  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

  Wedding Bells and Deadly Spells

  Introduction

  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

  Also by Danielle Garrett

  Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries

  Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries

  Sugar Shack Witch Mysteries

  Haven Paranormal Romances

  About the Author

  Books By Danielle Garrett

  BEECHWOOD HARBOR MAGIC MYSTERIES

  Murder’s a Witch

  Twice the Witch

  Witch Slapped

  Witch Way Home

  Along Came a Ghost

  Lucky Witch

  Betwixt: A Beechwood Harbor Collection

  One Bad Witch

  A Royal Witch

  First Place Witch

  Sassy Witch

  The Witch Is Inn

  Men Love Witches

  * * *

  BEECHWOOR HARBOR GHOST MYSTERIES

  * * *

  The Ghost Hunter Next Door

  Ghosts Gone Wild

  When Good Ghosts Get the Blues

  Big Ghosts Don’t Cry

  Diamonds are a Ghost’s Best Friend

  Ghosts Just Wanna Have Fun

  Bad Ghosts Club

  * * *

  SUGAR SHACK WITCH MYSTERIES

  * * *

  Sprinkles and Sea Serpents

  Grimoires and Gingeread

  Mermaids and Meringue

  Hexes and Honey Buns

  * * *

  HAVEN PARANORMAL ROMANCES

  * * *

  Once Upon a Hallow’s Eve

  * * *

  A TOUCH OF MAGIC MYSTERIES

  * * *

  Cupid in a Bottle

  Newly Wed and Slightly Dead

  Couture and Curses

  Wedding Bells and Deadly Spells

  Cupid in a Bottle

  Introduction

  Climbing the corporate ladder in a pair of fabulous stilettos isn’t easy, not even for a witch.

  * * *

  Anastasia Winters is on a mission to become the supernatural world’s go-to event coordinator. With a high-profile wedding in the final stretch, she needs everything to go just right. Her next promotion depends on it.

  * * *

  But when the groom gets dosed with an experimental potion and professes his undying love for the maid of honor, Anastasia’s shot at the wedding-planner big leagues goes up in flames.

  * * *

  Can she get the wedding back on track, or is she destined to be demoted back to wrangling baby dragons at birthday parties and filling the guest list for the Tooth Fairy’s Halloween bash?

  * * *

  **Note, this short novella is a revised edition of the short that appeared in the Hexes and Oh’s Anthology**

  Chapter One

  Leasing a condo in a magically enhanced building had its perks; charmed security systems, on-call fairy cleaners, and calorie-free cookies in the lobby. However, there were downfalls too, like living next door to a chronically drunk wizard who mistook my doorbell for his own whenever he found himself locked out of his condo at three in the morning.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buuuuzzzzzz.

  Groaning, I shoved the coverlet aside. “Patrick, I told you to put an extra key under the mat, so you don’t have to remember your password.”

  Blindly, I patted the foot of the bed until my fingertips found a pool of smooth satin. I pulled the robe on and then stalked into the living room, tugging the sash closed around my waist.

  “This really is the last time,” I called, reaching for the doorknob.

  A familiar voice replied, one that most definitely was not my oft-tipsy neighbor, “Stace? Is that you?”

  I recoiled from the door. There was only one person who called me Stace and I hadn’t seen her in over a year. I only knew she was alive thanks to a series of desperate letters that arrived in my mailbox on a quarterly basis. The scenarios differed, but the purpose was always the same: she needed money.

  She’d never shown up in person before.

  With a flick of my fingertips, the built-in security wards protecting my condo released and I pulled the door open, coming face to face with my younger sister.

  “Harmony? What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Stace.” She gave a sheepish smile. “Can I come in?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You do know what time it is, right?”

  “Stace,” she whined. “I really need to talk to you.”

  There was no denying that she was my sister, tempted though I might have been. Harmony was eight years younger than me—barely into her twenties—but there had been more than a few occasions when we’d been mistaken for twins. No one would make that mistake now. My long, chestnut waves were in stark contrast to her latest ’do. She’d chopped her hair into a chin-length bob th
at was a champagne blonde with shocking streaks of pink and purple.

  Her normally peaches-and-cream complexion had deepened into a solid tan, making it clear that whatever she’d been up to over the past few months had provided plenty of sunbathing. Her bare arms and legs were toned and barely covered by a black-and-white mini-dress that clashed something awful with her cotton-candy hair.

  I crossed my arms and gave her a pointed look, indicating I was still waiting on her no-doubt fanciful explanation. “Harmony, it’s three in the morning. I have to work in the morning. This isn’t a good time to catch up. So, can we skip ahead to the part where you tell me what you want?”

  Harmony narrowed her blue eyes, the only feature we had left in common. “I was in the neighborhood, all right? Now, can I come in or what?”

  Tamping down a long-suffering sigh, I waved my arm and pulled the door open wider. “Fine.”

  She strode into the room as though she owned the place and looked around. Her sharp eyes wouldn’t miss a detail. I shut the door a little harder than intended and Harmony spun on her heels to face me. “Where’s Peaches?”

  My nostrils flared. “She’s sleeping. You know, the thing cats and people tend to do around this time of night.”

  “Right.” Harmony tittered a nervous laugh. “Time got away from me, I guess. But, like I said, I was in town and didn’t want to leave without saying hello.”

  “Harmony, you know that I’m always a phone call away. We can go to lunch, see a movie. Whatever you want. But we both know that’s not why you’re really here. You weren’t in the neighborhood and this isn’t a social call. I’m exhausted, so let’s just get this over with. How much do you need, and do I want to bother asking why?”

  “Stace, I swear it’s not about money.” She hitched her purse strap up a little higher on her shoulder and dropped her gaze to the wide wooden planks under her scuffed-up shoes. “I’ve missed you.”

  Ignoring her, I crossed the room and snatched my checkbook from a kitchen drawer. My tiny, but chic, condo didn’t have a spare room to use for an office, so the kitchen pulled double duty. It worked well since I wasn’t much of a cook. As long as I had a place to warm up takeout leftovers, I was all set.

  I flipped open the folio and scrawled my signature across the bottom of the first check. Glancing up, I pursed my lips. “Last chance, Harmony.”

  Her confident smile wavered and then fell entirely. My heart stilled for a moment at the flash of despair reflected in her eyes before they flitted back to the floor.

  I set aside the checkbook. “What’s going on, Harmony?”

  “Jess and I broke up.”

  “Who’s Jess?” Last thing I knew, she’d been seeing some punk-rock shifter named Orson who made me feel old anytime I spent more than five minutes in his self-entitled orbit.

  “My boyfriend,” Harmony scoffed, before quietly adding, “Well, my ex-boyfriend, now.”

  “I kinda figured that part out,” I replied. “I meant, what happened to Orson? I thought you were on tour with him or something.”

  “I was.” She frowned. “Until I caught him cheating with a backup dancer.”

  I cringed.

  “They’re engaged now,” Harmony added, her voice small. “That’s when I met Jess.”

  She plunked down on the sofa as though the mere thought of telling the tale sapped all her energy. I didn’t know the particulars, but considering this relationship had to have lasted less than three months, I couldn’t fully understand what was so devastating about its demise. Then again, I hadn’t been on a date in over a year, so what did I know?

  “After leaving the tour, I took a job working as a cashier in an apothecary,” she started, drawing me away from the edge of my own murky pool of dating memories. “Jess worked there too, doing his apprenticeship. It wasn’t the best job, the owner always smelled like cabbage—”

  I glanced at the silver clock hanging above the stove. It was creeping up to half-past three. I had to be awake in less than four hours to get ready for work. “Harmony cut to the chase. What does any of this have to do with you coming back to Seattle?”

  “Right, right, right. Well, about a week ago, Jess and I were putting in some overtime, doing inventory and stuff like that. We started goofing around and well … we kind of had this competition; you know, see who could make the craziest potion. He made one that he swore would make whoever drank it start quacking like a duck. I made one that would make the person smell like gummy bears for a week.”

  I blinked. “You were getting paid for this?”

  “Well … that’s kind of the problem.” She drew in a quick breath. “Mrs. Maddy, our boss—the one that smelled like cabbage—came back to get something and found us messing around with all the supplies. We’d made a bit of a mess. I mean, we were gonna clean it up, of course.”

  “Mhmm.”

  She frowned at me and continued, “She started railing on Jess for being a bad influence and fired him on the spot.”

  “Imagine that,” I muttered.

  “I snapped at her, telling her we’d come up with the idea together, and that if she wanted to fire Jess, she’d have to fire me too.” She paused for a moment and then shrugged half-heartedly. “So, she did.”

  It was a familiar story. Harmony had burned through more jobs during her four years in the workforce than most people did by retirement. For one reason or another, things always went up in flames. And usually, the one holding the match was, in fact, Harmony. She was an unnatural disaster and I’d learned a long time ago that I couldn’t do much to help, beyond periodically bailing her out.

  Though, that plan was running thin too.

  Harmony drew in a steadying breath and raked her fingers through her hair. “I thought Jess would be happy that I stood up for him, but instead, he kinda turned on me. Started yelling about how he didn’t need me fighting his battles and all this other stuff. I tried to apologize, but he took off and left me standing on the front steps of the shop with nothing but my final paycheck and the messed-up potions.” She absently patted at her purse. “So, I hopped a Shimmer Bus yesterday afternoon and rode around for a little while before deciding to come here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  I dropped my folded arms to my sides. “I’m sorry you’re having a rough time, Harmony. Where have you been living?”

  “Portland,” she said. “That’s where the tour was stopped when I found Orson with Audrina.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I didn’t have my own place or anything. I was staying in a SPA hostel.”

  “A hostel?” I repeated.

  She shrugged. “Yeah. The Supernatural Protection Agency has a bunch of them. If you’re in trouble, you can call and they’ll put you up for a while. I guess they’d rather have all the wayward supernaturals out of the human world as much as possible.”

  I nodded. It almost sounded like the situation my dearest friend, Holly Boldt, had found herself in when she got on the wrong side of the haven law some time back. Surely, if Harmony had landed in one of those hostels for supernaturals, she must be all right. At least someone was looking out for her and I didn’t have to worry about her sleeping on the street.

  “Listen, it’s too late to go back out tonight,” I told Harmony. “So, why don’t you stay for the night and then tomorrow I can give you some money and get you on a bus back to Portland.”

  She nodded but kept her eyes downcast.

  Taking a step toward the hallway, I waved a hand at my tufted sectional. “This place doesn’t have a spare room, so you’ll have to make do with the couch. I’ll get some linens.”

  Harmony didn’t reply, so I ducked into the hall. A faint blue light illuminated my way, all of the lights set to motion-sensing mode. I opened the narrow closet off the bathroom and carefully rummaged through the stacks of neatly folded sheets and blankets to find a warm blanket and a set of flannel sheets.

  “These should work,” I said, returning to the living room. “But, if you need more, there�
��s a—”

  I stopped and lifted my brows. Harmony was still sitting in the corner of the couch but had folded in on herself, concave, in a way that made her look like a broken-down dress mannequin.

  “Harmony?” I said, my voice whisper soft.

  She looked up and I saw streaks of black mascara running down her cheeks.

  I took a deep breath and deposited the sheets on the back of the couch before rounding it to take a seat beside her. “Stace, I can’t do this anymore.” Her shoulders shook as a fresh wave of tears fell. “I need help.”

 

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