By Maureen Bonatch
Fall is on the way. This may have you thinking about back-to-school, pumpkin spice, sweaters and all things cozy. For me, the word cozy often brings thoughts of reading by a fire wrapped in a blanket with a beverage of choice.
But this fall cozy has me thinking about my latest cozy mystery series.
With the release of one book from the A Witch Shifter series at the end of August, September and then October, this magical, fun series will be filling my fall season.
I'm sharing a little about the first book in the series below and a place to stock up your TBR with cozy reads.
A Cagey CATastrophe:
Can an unpredictable witch and her snarky familiar find the missing teen witches before it’s too late?
Hi, I'm Abigail. I’d barely accepted I was half magic-blood when my sister from another mister showed up in a tacky van and dumped me in the Witchness Protection Program. Now I’m stuck in a house with an arrogant warlock and an ancient gossip-loving witch in a neighborhood with more secrets than stray cats. I shouldn’t be here, for mortal's sake, I'm 30 years old!
Soon after arriving, I wake up as a cat and discover the chatter in my head since moving here has been the local cat population talking. Is this what’s made me so interesting to all the wrong people? I'm a witch who can shift? Maybe I need witchness protection after all.
When someone with dark magic starts luring wayward teens away from the area, it leaves me questioning how good this protection program really is. But before I can learn how to stop blowing things up with my magic or turning into Abby the tabby, another teen witch goes missing.
This time, I fear that she was taken to get to me, so it’s up to me and my fat tomcat familiar to save her. If I can’t, the darkness won’t just stop at me. It will come for us all.
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An Excerpt from A Cagey CATastrophe
“I’d never seen a more gorgeous . . . warlock. My mouth soured. Enchanted gardens. Warlocks were arrogant jerks.
The arrogant jerk turned while slipping his arms into his shirt sleeves. He brushed his hands over his body. His smile was warm when he lifted his head and spotted us. “Carman. You’re early.”
She rushed to embrace the sexy mancake in a hug. He swung her around once before letting her feet settle on the ground. Carman stood back and gestured to his shirt. “What happened to you?”
He frowned. “Darn glitter spell.”
She laughed as she brushed glitter from his cheeks. “They’re just kids.”
“Easy for you to say. This is the third time this week. This sparkly crap is in my sheets. Believe me, there are places you don’t want to find glitter.” His smile faded, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Another one’s gone.”
“What?” Carman glanced to me and then masked her distress. “We’ll talk later.”
He fell silent when his gaze landed on me where I stood gaping as I pictured him in bed covered with glitter. Cauldrons!
Carman presented me with a flourish of her hands, making me feel like a game show prize “This is Abigail, your new charge.”
“What? I’m no one’s charge,” I said, challenging Scott to defy my statement.
He glanced from Carman to me. “But . . . but she’s old.”
I curled my fingers into a tight fist to contain my annoyance. Spouting cockiness like a typical warlock. “Thirty isn’t old.”
“I’m sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “I meant you’re not a kid. For one, you’ve already made it through puberty—thank heavens. One more hormonal, teenage witch might tip the precarious hold on my sanity.” His eyes studied me, lingering with approval.
I turned to my sister, desperate to focus on anything other than him. “What am I doing here?”
”“It’s the perfect place to learn how to control your magic. You aren’t Scott’s charge like the other kids. He’s your bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?” Scott and I asked in unison.
“Why would I need a bodyguard? And what did he mean by another one’s gone? Another what?”
“Nothing,” Carman said. “Part of what Scott will guard you against is yourself. At least until you gain control over your magic.”
I felt as deflated as the van tire. Not knowing what I was, or what I was capable of, made me too interesting to the wrong people. The street appeared deserted, but I felt like someone was watching. A Witchness Protection Program? Perhaps someone in this weird neighborhood would know something about how to solve the mystery of what I was.
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