by Zoe Arden
Portion Disaster
Sweetland Witch Series
Zoe Arden
ReedFoster Press House
A Cozy Mystery Book
Contents
Copyright
Like my page
For You Personally
Dedication
About The Author
Personal Word from Zoe
Prologue
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Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-one
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Chapter Twenty-two
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Chapter Twenty-three
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Chapter Twenty-four
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Chapter Twenty-five
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Chapter Twenty-six
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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Chapter Twenty-eight
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Chapter Twenty-nine
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Chapter Thirty
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Chapter Thirty-one
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Chapter Thirty-two
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Chapter Thirty-three
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Chapter Thirty-four
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Chapter Thirty-five
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Chapter Thirty-six
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Chapter Thirty-seven
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Chapter Thirty-eight
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Chapter Thirty-nine
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Chapter Forty
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Epilogue
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Preview of Next Book
Also By . ORDER OF BOOKS
For You Personally
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by
Zoe Arden
and
ReedFoster press House
All Rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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DEDICATION
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This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!
First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.
Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit just for a little while.
Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading what I have written.
Thank you!
“ The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. ”
Oscar Wilde
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.
Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.
What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.
Much Love,
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PERSONAL WORD
FROM ZOE ARDEN
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Hello, lovely reader!
In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.
You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off layers and layers of suspense and clues.
And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?
That’s for you to find out.
Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing career.
Much Love,
Prologue
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Polly Peacock took a deep breath and addressed the men and women surrounding her.
"I regret everything. Every crime I committed, every time I used dark magic. All of it."
She watched the faces of those judging her. They ranged from livid to concerned to confused. No one looked happy. The only one who looked bored was President Todd Ashby, the man whose final say would mean the difference between returning to her cell at Swords and Bones, a maximum-security prison, or returning to freedom and the home she'd thought she'd lost forever.
This was the last in a series of hearings, and Dean Lampton had assured the Council on Magic and Human Affairs that he could handle things alone. As the head of the Council, affectionately dubbed COMHA by the greater witching world, they had trusted him to keep things in order.
President Ashby stared blankly ahead. A man of sixty, his thick, gray hair and dark, handsome eyes had helped secure his victory not long ago in the Witch and Warlock World Elections. He'd easily won North and South America, as the Witching Times had predicted he would. Lin Kay had won Asia, and Polly couldn't remember who'd gotten Europe or the others. Living in a wizard's prison made it difficult to keep up with the things happening around you.
In general, continents were considered the best way to rule. There weren't nearly as many witches and warlocks as there were humans, so it made sense to divide things up by larger territories. Of course, each city and town could elect its own mayor, and sometimes there were paranormals who had no use for a wizard president at all. Goblins always elected their own kings, and vampires... well, vampires did what vampires wanted to do.
If human organizations like MAPP—Mothers Against Paranormal Predators—got their way, all of that would change. There would be no more wizard presidents, no more wizards. In fact. MAPP would like to take all the paranormals and drop them off the face of the Earth. It was just lucky for the wizarding community that most humans thought MAPP consisted of looney-toon women who had too much time on their hands and drank too much champagne with their brunch.
When President Ashby said nothing, Polly cleared her throat to try again.
"I wasn't thinking clearly when I committed those crimes. Slater Winston was... charming. I thought I was in love with him. It was all a trick. He was only using me. I see that now."
Warden Myron Banks stood up and pounded his fist on the table. "Slater Winston is human," he yelled, his eyebrows drawing together in an ugly frown. "She makes it sound as if he... he'd hexed her or something." She wished he'd have remained as silent as he'd been for the last five minutes. He'd been almost violently opposed to her release since COMHA had first proposed it.
"No," Polly said quickly, twirling one strand of blond hair around her finger. Her eyes darted from the warden to the guards back to President Ashby.
"And what about your escape just last year?" Warden Banks continued. "Was that all Margaret Binford's fault? If Slater didn't hex you, did she?" His eyes were blazing. He turned to President Ashby, his dark hair spinning into his eyes. "Polly Peacock is responsible for the death of her own mother."
"No!" Polly shouted, her voice rising. Her hands shook as she addressed President Ashby directly. "I take full responsibility for my actions. No one hexed me. But my mother..." She gulped at the memory. Even though she hadn't killed Anastasia Peacock herself, the person she'd been working with at the time—Margaret Binford—had.
"My mother's death is something I can never take back. I will always regret working with Margaret Binford. If I'd known what she was capable of, I would never have agreed to anything she suggested."
Warden Banks scoffed. "She suggested? You're telling me that it wasn't your idea to try and sacrifice Damon Tellinger and Ava Fortune? That you didn't want your powers restored through the blood ritual?"
Polly hesitated. "It wasn't my idea to kidnap Ava or Damon," she said, biting her lip. "It was Margaret's and Slater's." She wished she had never heard the name Slater Winston. Her old boyfriend had been nothing but trouble since she'd first met him. Margaret had been even worse.
Dean Lampton cleared his throat. "Mr. President," he began, bowing dramatically, "as discussed in our previous meetings, COMHA's new plan for a prison work release program would never allow anyone truly dangerous to be on the streets."
"Ha!" shouted one of the guards, Elizabeth Rambler. Her cheeks reddened as everyone looked at her. Her dark hair framed her pale face in such a way that even when it was pulled into a tight bun as it was now, you could still tell how thick and luxurious it was. Her skin glowed. She was frequently compared to Snow White, despite having the temper of the evil queen.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth shouted, now that she had everyone's attention, "but Warden Banks is right. Releasing Polly Peacock, or anyone else for that matter, is about as stupid as watering your flowers when it's raining outside."
"Now look here," Dean Lampton yelled, raising one finger in Elizabeth's direction.
"No, you look here," she shouted back at him. "I've worked at Swords and Bones and that country club of a prison, Wormwood Work Camp, where Polly was first sent before her escape, so we've known each other for quite some time. She's no good. She'll never change."
"That's not true!" Polly shouted. "I've already changed. Being at Swords and Bones has taught me the value of... of..."
"Of what?" President Ashby asked, speaking for the first time.
"Of freedom. Of what it means not to have any." She gulped as her voice cracked. "Of the little things in life, like... kindness. Like thanking someone when they help you."
Sean Usher took a step forward. If Elizabeth Rambler was the meanest female guard at Swords and Bones, Sean was the meanest male guard. Everyone knew he had a mad crush on Elizabeth and would have done anything to get into her good graces.
"Can I just remind everyone of one important aspect to all this which I think is being overlooked?" Sean asked. They stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Dean Lampton says that no murderers are to be included in this work release program of COMHA's but Polly Peacock is a murderer. She killed Margaret Binford."
"That's right," Warden Banks shouted. "What do you say to that, Lampton?" He was grinning at Dean with an expression so smug it made Polly's blood boil. She hated being talked about like she wasn't there, and that's all they'd done all morning.
"I wasn't convicted on that!" Polly shouted.
Dean held up one hand, waving her off. This program was important to him. She knew it was only because of some sort of tax incentive COMHA would get if it went into effect but she didn't care. He was trying to help her.
"As Miss Peacock has just stated," Dean said, "she was never convicted of Margaret Binford's murder. That was ruled self-defense."
"Ha!" Elizabeth shouted again, rolling her eyes. "That's ridiculous! How can you be such a warthog? Are you always so dumb or—" Warden Banks placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook his head, warning her off from saying anything further.
"Self-defense or not," Warden Banks said, "she is responsible for a host of crimes that affected both Sweetland Cove and Mistmoor Point. Crimes for which she has not sufficiently paid."
"All of Polly's magical powers have been removed," Dean said quickly. "Both her powers as a witch and those of her pixie heritage. I promise you she is no threat to anyone."
"What do you think?" President Ashby asked, addressing Polly. "Do you think you've paid sufficiently for your crimes?" He glanced at his watch. Polly wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one. Her throat felt dry as she tried to speak.
"I'm not sure that I can ever truly finish paying for my crimes," she said, trying to think of the best way to express what she was feeling. "I mean... how can you ever make up for hurting people?"
"Oh, for witch's sake!" Warden Banks cried, his face going red. "Anastasia Peacock died because of her actions. She is responsible for the death of her own mother!"
Polly burst into a fresh round of tears. "If I could give my life to bring her back. I would." She looked tearfully up into the eyes of President Ashby, who was watching her intently now. "It's for my mother that I want to do this. I want to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I've changed. I... I want to make her proud of me."
President Ashby looked around at their little group before checking his watch again. "We'll try the program for a month," he finally said. "Start small. Miss Peacock and that girl from Witch Hill—what was her name?—Calista Woodruff. Let them both out. If nothing goes wrong, we'll see about letting out others."
Polly was so happy her tears flowed even faster, pooling at her feet. Warden Banks glared at her. He moved swiftly toward her, catching her off guard.
"If you make one wrong move," he growled, his hot, garlic breath blowing on her face, "I'll make sure you never see the light of day again. Ever."
* * *
CHAPT
ER
ONE
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"Ava!" Trixie cried. "Ava, look at this."
I turned toward my aunt. Trixie stood at the bottom of the ladder she'd been using all morning. She lifted her hand into the air and the streamer she'd left dangling from the ceiling began to twist on its own. It moved from one end of the room to the other, affixing itself in a far corner so that it was completely stretched out. Glitter melded with the pink crepe paper as if it had been there all along. The entire bakery began to glow a soft silver as the lights hit the glitter and bounced off.
