Save Our Cozies Readathon

Save Our Cozies Readathon

 Saturday – July 16th, 2016

Hosted by Franz Chapman and Bree Herron

I am reposting, but I originally found this on "Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book" Blog.  There are several of my favorite cozy mysteries on the cancellation list, and no doubt some of yours.  This readathon is our way of influencing the publishers and showing our support to the authors.

Purpose of the Readathon: 

Due to mergers among publishing companies, several beloved cozy mystery series have either been cancelled or are in danger of being cancelled.  Depending upon an individual author’s contract, he or she may not even be able to self-publish or take the series to a new publisher.  The Save Our Cozies Readathon seeks to:

• Raise the reading public’s awareness of this issue across a range of social media platforms.
• Introduce the reading public to these series.
• Encourage publishers to rethink their decision to cancel cozy mystery series.
• Create and support a community of readers and authors.
• Read lots of quality, fun cozy mystery books!

Series canceled (verified list)

Penguin Random House

Avery Aames – Cheese Shop mysteries

Beverly Allen – Bridal Bouquet Shop Mysteries (not renewed) Now writing Vintage Toyshop Mysteries for Crooked Lane as Barbara Early.

Janet Bolin – Threadville Mysteries

Melissa Bourbon –Magical Dressmaking Mysteries. Is thinking of self publishing but not anytime soon. Source: Author’s FB page.

Jacklyn Brady – Piece of Cake mysteries

Lucy Burdette – Key West Food Critic series

Amanda Carmack – Kate Haywood Elizabethan mysteries

Maia Chance – Fairy Tale Fatal Mysteries

Erika Chase – Ashton Corners Mysteries

Peg Cochran – Gourmet DeLite Mysteries

Laura DiSilverio – Mall Cop Mysteries

Monica Ferris – Betsy Devonshire Needlework series. Is shopping for new publisher and has plans for future books.

Christy Fifield – Haunted Souvenir Mysteries. Owns rights, plans to self-publish.

Shelley Freydont – Celebration Bay Mysteries

Eva Gates – Lighthouse Library Mysteries 

Rosie Genova – Italian Kitchen Mysteries

Victoria Hamilton – Vintage Kitchen Mysteries (she is continuing the series with another publisher, ebook only.)

Mary Ellen Hughes – Pickled and Preserved Mysteries

Annie Knox – Pet Boutique Mysteries

Elizabeth Lee (Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli) Nut Shop Mystery Series

Meg London – Sweet Nothings Lingerie Mysteries

Molly MacRae — Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries (plans to continue the series)

Leigh Perry – Family Skeleton Mysteries –  Shopping for a new publisher.

Cate Price – Deadly Notions Mysteries

Paige Shelton – Farmer’s Market Mysteries and Country Cooking School Mysteries

Christine Wenger – Comfort Foods Mysteries (NAL, which was merged into Berkley); is considering self-publishing.

FIVE STAR (Gale Cengage)

Five Star has dropped their entire mystery lineup.

Nancy Cohen – Bad Hair Day Mysteries

Maggie Toussaint – Dreamwalker Mysteries

Susan Van Kirk- Endurance Mysteries

Limitless Publishing

A E H Veenman – Marjorie Gardens Mysteries

Kensington

Anna Loan-Wilsey – Hattie Davish Mysteries

Macmillan / St. Martin’s Press

D.E. Ireland – Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins Mysteries (switching publishers)

Start Times

We will be starting at Midnight Friday July 15th and run through Midnight Saturday July 16th EDT.   For the sake of challenges and hourly activites, we will all start at the same time.   Therefore, when it is Midnight July 15th in EDT, it will be 9:00 PM July 15th in Los Angeles, California.

Go here to find your time zone start time:

Save Our Cozies Readathon Event Time Announcer

FAQ

What is a cozy?

A sub-genre of mystery or crime fiction in which the violence is downplayed or happens “off screen”.  The books tend to focus on non-professional crime solvers and contain little or no sex or foul language.  For a complete definition visit the excellent  Cozy-Mystery.com at http://www.cozy-mystery.com/Definition-of-a-Cozy-Mystery.html

What is an online cozy readathon?

An online readathon is an online 24 hour event that brings together a community of readers and authors to participate in all things cozy.  This includes reading, posting frequently on social media, visiting author’s websites, posting reviews, visiting book blogger’s websites, and/or participating in fun challenges/activities.  The amount and type of participation is up to the individual.

How do I participate?

The Cozy fans can participate through any or all of the following:

1. Sign up to participate on this Wordpress website  using your online social media home – be it Facebook, Tumblr,Twitter,Goodreads, etc.  and your role, author, reader, cheerleader, admin. (you are not limited to using just one social media account, I just want a main one where I can find you).
2. The starting time of the readathon will be  midnight on  July 15th EST or 12:01 AM on July 16th as the time zone calculator is set up. Everyone will start at the same time.  Use the time zone page to determine when to start for you time zone.  This is so everyone will be at the same point at the same time.   Participants can join in for any amount of time from 1 hour to all 24.
3. Every hour there will be an activity of the hour that you can choose to participate in.
4. When not reading or participating in activities, you can visit participating author’s and/or book blogger’s websites.  The lists of participants will appear on the signup page as people join.
5. Respond to other participants’ posts on social media to encourage them.
6. Check in with the Save Our Cozies Readathon web page and/or Facebook group.
7. Post your reading progress/ activity on your social media of choice, if hashtags are applicable use #saveourcozies #readathon
8. Post cozy reviews on your medium of choice. I believe authors’  prefer Amazon and/or Goodreads
9. Donating prizes for challenges/activities – (can be as simple as bookmarks)
10. Work admin duties – I hope for us to have a presence on several social media platforms, we already have a Facebook groupthanks to Shelly Toler Franz. I will open a WordPress  webpage for handling all sign up and linking needed for the readathon.  I will link the web page to a Twitter account.  I can also form a Goodreads group. I don’t personally use Tumblr,Booklikes,Librarything,  or many others, so if someone uses those platforms I’d appreciate it if they would volunteer to admin there.  There will be closing down duties as well.  Books or pages read by everyone and participants will need to be tallied.  Thank yous will need to go out, etc.

Authors can participate by:

1. See 1 – 9 above (Authors are fans, too. Right?)
2. Posting on his or her own webpage.
3. Hosting challenges or activities.
4. Setting up interviews with book bloggers to be posted during the challenge
5. Setting up a Q&A session on Twitter during the readathon. (usually this is done by collecting questions from readers over the couple weeks leading up to the readathon and then tweeting them with answers during the event.)

Donated Prizes

Each hourly event will have a winner and if we have enough prizes there will be other categories to win in as well (most pages read, most books listened to, most activities participated in, etc.)

• Terrie Farley Moran – Signed set of all 3 Read ‘Em and Eat Mysteries and a mousepad
• Tina Chapman AKA Franz Chapman AKA AngryGreyCatReads – Signed copies of Written Off and The Question of the Unfamilar Husband both by E.J. Copperman
• Anonymous  reader- pillow or totebag with Save Our Cozies Readathon
• Molly MacRae – 2 copies of Last Wool and Testament
• Maggie Toussaint – 3 Kindle books of Bubba Done It
• Eva Gates AKA Vicki Delany – Reading Up a Storm plus bookmarks
• Anna Loan-Wilsey – A Deceptive Homecoming or A March to Remember
• Janet Bolin – Your choice of a Threadville Mystery
• Marty Wingate – Audio book of The Red Book of Primrose House
• Erika Chase – Signed copy of Law and Author
• Susan Van Kirk – Three May Keep A Secret plus bookmarks
• Victoria Hamilton – No Mallets Intended and White Colander Crime plus bookmarks
• Nancy J. Cohen – 1 signed copy of Shear Murder and 2 ebooks of Permed to Death plus bookmarks
• Laura Disilverio – 1 signed copy each of The Readaholics and the Falcon Fiasco and The Readaholics and the Poirot Puzzle
• Denise Swanson – audio books of Murder of an Open Bookand Between a Book and a Hard Place.
• Kathleen Bridge- 2 print copies of Hearse and Gardens  (mailed directly through Amazon not available for International winners – US only)
• Cate Price – An autographed copy of A Dollhouse to Die For
• Edith Maxwell – 2 signed hardcover books  Farmed and Dangerous & Murder Most Fowl
• Susannah Hardy/Sadie Hartwell – 1 copy each of Yarned and Dangerous, Olive and Let Die, & Feta Attraction
• Barbara Early/Beverly Allen – 1 signed copy of Floral Depravity
• Diane Vallere – 2 copies of Crushed Velvet in a choice of format, either ebook or print
• Mary Ellen Hughes – 1 signed copy of License to Dill
• Sandra Bretting – 2 copies of Murder at Morningside
• Jenny Kales – 3 ebooks of On the Chopping Block
• Daryl Wood Gerber – choice of anyone of the first 4 Cookbook Nook series books.
• Anna Lee – an assortment of 6 cozy mystery books and bookmarks
• Ellen Byron – a hardcover copy of Plantation Shudders and a fun bag of swag
• Nancy Herriman – 2 signed copies of No Comfort for the Lostand 1 signed copy of No Pity for the Dead
• Toni LoTempio/T.C. Lotempio – signed copies of Meow if it’s Murder and Claws for Alarm
• Krista Davis – 1 copy of The Diva Serves High Tea and 1 copy of Murder Most Howl
• Tracy Weber – choice of books from the Downward Dog Mystery Series, a mug, and signed bookmarks
• Sofie Kelly AKA Sofie Ryan- 2 copies of Faux Paw and 3 copies of A Whisker of Trouble
• Nancy Lynn Jarvis – 1 copy of A Neighborly Killing
• Carol J. Perry – 3 copies of Tails You Lose 
• Marla Cooper – choice of hardback or ebook of Terror in Taffeta
• Leslie Budewitz – a winner’s choice of either Assault and Pepper or Guilty as Cinnamon
• Brian Kavanagh – a kindle copy of each of the books in theBelinda Lawrence series.
• Lisa Q. Mathews – 3 ebook prizes in winners’ choice of Cardiac Arrest or Permanently Booked along with bookmarks and pens.
• C. Michele Dorsey – 1 hardback copy of No Virgin Island

Participant Signups – Over 200 people have already signed up!

You can sign up in a couple different ways.

1 –  CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE READATHON BLOG –

In the comment box, tell me:

• Name – What you would like to be known as during the readathon
• Reader and/or Author
• Blog address (Optional)
• Online home – any social media site(s) that you want to use for the readathon (facebook, tumblr, twitter, Goodreads, etc.)  Please provide a link so we can find your posts/activity during the readathon

OR

2 – Email the above information to saveourcoziesreadathon@gmail.com.  Please enter Readathon in the subject line.

OR

3 – Message Fanficfan44  on Goodreads.com

Once you are done you can see other participants here.

Whether you can join for the whole day or even just an hour this is a great way to support cozy authors.

If you have questions you can contact the organizers at https://saveourcoziesreadathon.wordpress.com/ or post on the Save Our Cozies Facebook Page.

Guest Author Post - Julia Buckley

Julia Buckley is a Chicago mystery author whose career started in 2006 with the publication of THE DARK BACKWARD. She is currently writing two series for Berkley Prime Crime, the first of which launched with THE BIG CHILI (Undercover Dish Mysteries) and the new A DARK AND STORMY MURDER (A Writer's Apprentice Mystery).

Julia has taught high school English for twenty-seven years; she lives near Chicago with her husband, two sons, three cats, and a mischievous Lab puppy named Digby.  Please welcome Ms. Julia Buckley to our little corner of the blogosphere. 

When I Discovered Mary Stewart

I remember when I first fell in love with Mary Stewart. It was somewhere between the late seventies and the early eighties; my mother, a volunteer librarian at my school and eventually at our local library, was always bringing home interesting books. We were huge library supporters: my dad was on the board, and we invited the local librarian, a bachelor, to our house for dinner and games of Password.

My mother had long been a Mary Stewart fan, and I can’t recall if she pressed one into my hand, assuring me that I’d like it, or if I picked one up on my own. Stewart’s covers and titles were compelling, with a Gothic flair and a sense of menace.

In any case, I read the first book. In those days we children who were still in school tended to come home in the afternoon and lie on the furniture like giant sloths, reading the books we had been forced to leave behind. I remember hearing a lot of “Why don’t you go get some fresh air?” while I lay there, devouring chapter after chapter.

The first way that Stewart lured her reader was with an Epigraph at the beginning of each chapter, always literary, referring the reader to a passage from Shakespeare, or Milton, or Bronte. This carefully-selected quotation always had relevance to the story she was telling. After this came the one-two punch of a fascinating setting and a gripping plot, introduced by an irresistible first line.

In her first suspense novel, Madam, Will You Talk?, Stewart begins by setting the tone: 

"The whole affair began so very quietly. When I wrote, that summer, and asked my friend Louise if she would come with me on a car trip to Provence, I had no idea that I might be issuing an invitation to danger" (Stewart 1).

Every Mary Stewart fan knows the quiet satisfaction of this sort of beginning. One can be assured of an exciting ride with a highly literate driver.

In my own book, A DARK AND STORMY MURDER, Camilla Graham is a Mary Stewart-type suspense novelist, and Lena London is as star-struck as I would be, had I ever been given the chance to meet Lady Stewart in person. I suppose the book is a kind of wish fulfillment. In an homage to Stewart’s books, I begin each chapter with an epigraph, but I am quoting Camilla Graham’s book, THE SALZBURG TRAIN.

After that the resemblance to a Stewart novel ends, but it is still my love letter to the best writer of romantic suspense.

(My other favorite Mary Stewart titles include NINE COACHES WAITING, MY BROTHER MICHAEL, THE MOONSPINNERS, AIRS ABOVE THE GROUND, THIS ROUGH MAGIC, THUNDER ON THE RIGHT, and THE IVY TREE.

A DARK AND STORMY MURDER (Berkley Prime Crime) will be on sale on July 5, and is available for pre-order on Amazon).

Work Cited

Stewart, Mary. Madam, Will You Talk? London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1954.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
THANK You Ms. Buckley.  I am a huge Mary Stewart fan as well.  I have a hardcopy of The Moonspinners and still remember the haunting story of Airs Above the Ground.  Of course the Crystal Cave trilogy is phenomenal.   Playing games of Password, Yes!

Author Guest Post - Anna Lee Huber

I have been following the Lady Darby Mysteries since the first book hit the shelves.  We were honored to have a prior guest post by Ms. Huber (click here).  Today she shares with us answers to her most often asked reader questions.  Please welcome Ms. Anna Lee Huber to our little corner of the Blogosphere.

An Interview with Anna Lee Huber, author of the Lady Darby Mysteries

I asked my readers on social media to interview me, and these are the questions they chose as most popular:

How Lady Darby became your central character, she is so different and unusual (which is why I love her). Where did you find her?

Lady Darby is a bit of a cross between mindful intention and pure subconscious. I started out with the idea that I wanted to write a historical mystery series with a woman as my main protagonist, but I wanted her to be quite different from most of the similar series I already read. I wanted her to be awkward socially, artistic, a tad eccentric, and I thought it would be extremely interesting to give her knowledge of anatomy. Normally it’s the man, if anyone, who has this expertise, so to instead put it in the mind of an early nineteenth century woman I knew would require extraordinary circumstances. That’s how the start of her backstory emerged. I needed to find a way for her to receive anatomical training in as realistic and compelling a way as possible. However, once I had those basic details in hand and I finally sat down to write that first chapter, something kind of magical happened. I’d had this voice clambering inside my head, wanting to tell her story, and once I allowed her that freedom, she just sprang to life. It’s almost as if she lives in a separate place in my subconscious. I can feel the nerve pathways that will let me tap into her voice, where she sits quietly waiting to take her turn at the page again.

Why Scotland? It is a country that I love but I'm curious why you chose that location. Also, was writing about Ireland in book 5 challenging?

I simply adore Scotland! So that was the start. And I needed an isolated locale for Book 1, so the Highlands. And, well, it kind of just took over from there. Ireland was definitely more of a challenge to write simply because I'd done so much less research about it before I started, and I've never visited. Also, the history is fascinating but very complex in this time period. I wanted to get it right, but also not write a history paper. Nobody likes "info dumps", as writers call them. It's tricky to weave in just the right amount of history without sounding like a textbook at times.

The challenges (and how you deal with them) of writing about a place and time period that you don't live in! How do you get that "real feel" and blend accuracy with the story?

I think it starts with research. Before I delve into any time period I do an intense amount of research trying to understand the era, and not just the facts—dates, and people, and major events. I want to understand what the general mindset of the people are, how they speak and interact with one another, what is considered normal and what is beyond the pale. However, at some point you have to step away from the texts and begin to write, and for me the trick is to become truly locked inside the mind of my narrator. Since I write predominately in the first person, my stories are colored by the thoughts of my narrator. I see things through her eyes, expressing her opinions, noticing the items that interest her. If I can make the reader believe that they are listening to the narrator and not me, then I’ve gone a long way to achieving realness and authenticity. It’s definitely harder to write about places I’ve never actually been, but pictures, videos, and Google Earth help tremendously. Language can also trip me up. It’s not always easy

to find the etymology of a word or phrase, and sometimes the way they would have truly spoken would baffle modern readers. There’s a fine balance.

Do you ever get tired of any of the characters?

Hmmm. I think because I delve so deeply into their psychologies, I always have some sympathy for all my characters. I see something I like about all of them. Even the villains. So I haven't gotten tired of anyone yet, or killed anyone off because of it.

I’ve read many murder mystery series with a sleuthing couple at the helm. What I like about your series is that Keira seems to be more private than the other heroines, while Gage is the more outgoing personality. What made you pick this dynamic?

I've noticed the very same thing, so I purposely wanted to switch it up. I wanted to make the characters different from other sleuthing pairs and see what evolved of that.

Can you believe you are on book five!? Do you have an end game, which I hope isn't for a long while!!

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. Didn't I just start writing these? No end game in sight yet...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

THANK You Ms. Huber for sharing this interview.

Rice Krispie Brownie Treats

Ingredients

2 cups crumbled brownies
5 cups rice krispies
1-10 oz. package mini marshmallow
3 tablespoons butter
Instructions

*I use the microwave method, but the stovetop method would work just fine.

Melt butter and marshmallows in the microwave for about three minutes, stirring at a minute and a half.  When marshmallows are good and melted, add the rice krispies and crumbled brownies.  Mix well until all is completely combined.

Pour mixture into a well greased, or wax paper lined pan. (size is up to you, depending on how thick you want them - I used 13"x9").

Allow to cool and set for at least one hour. Can be placed in the refrigerator to speed the cooling process.  Turn over onto a cutting board and cut into squares.

Special Book Excerpt - A Toxic Trousseau

I am honored to have the opportunity to provide an excerpt of the new Witchcraft Mystery series by Juliet Blackwell.  Thank you folks at NAL Publishing.  This book will be available for purchase on July 5, 2016.  Enjoy this advance peek!

Chapter One

Small business owners have their morning routines. Some people switch on the lights, brew a cup of coffee, and read the paper before engaging with the day. Some count out the money in the register and tidy up the merchandise. Some sweep and hose down the front walk.

Each morning before opening my vintage clothing store, Aunt Cora’s Closet, I sprinkle salt water widdershins, smudge sage deosil, and light a white candle while chanting a spell of protection.

Such spells can be powerful, and for a small business owner like me they serve an important purpose: to help customers maintain their composure in the face of fashion frustrations, keep evil intentions at bay, and discourage those with sticky fingers from rummaging through the feather boas, chiffon prom dresses, and silk evening gowns and then trying to shove said items into pockets or backpacks or under shirts.

But protection spells aren’t much good against litigation.

“Lily Ivory?” asked the petite, somber young woman who entered Aunt Cora’s Closet, a neon yellow motorcycle helmet under one arm. She had dark hair and eyes, and I imagined she would have been pretty had she smiled. But her expression was dour.

“Yes?” I asked, looking up from a list of receipts.

She held out a manila envelope. “You have been served.”

“Served?”

“You are hereby notified of a lawsuit against you, Aunt Cora’s Closet, and one errant pig, name unknown. By the by, not that it’s any of my business, but is it even legal to own livestock in the city?”

I cast a glare in the direction of said pig, my witch’s familiar, Oscar. At least, I tried to, but he’d disappeared. Only moments earlier Oscar had been snoozing on his hand-embroidered purple silk pillow, resting up for a busy day of trying to poke his snout under the dressing room curtains while customers tried

on vintage cocktail dresses, fringed leather jackets, and Jackie O pillbox hats. Now only the slight rustling of a rack of 1980s spangled prom dresses revealed his location.

“My pig’s being served with legal papers?”

“Not so much your pig, as you. Your property, your worry. At least, that’s how it works with dogs, so I assume . . .” The woman trailed off with an officious shrug as she headed for the front door with long strides, already pulling on her helmet. “But that isn’t any of my business; I just deliver the bad news. Have a nice day.”

“Wait—”

She didn’t pause. I followed her outside, where someone was revving the engine of a large black motorcycle. The woman jumped on the back and they zoomed off.

“Duuude,” said Conrad, the homeless young man who slept in nearby Golden Gate Park and spent the better part of his days “guarding” the curb outside of my store. In San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, many young homeless people lived this way, panhandling and scrounging and generally referring to themselves as “gutter punks.” Over the past year, Conrad—or as he liked to call himself, “The Con”—had become a friend and the unofficial guardian of Aunt Cora’s Closet. “You get served?”

“Apparently so,” I said, opening the envelope to find some scary-looking legal-sized documents filled with legalese, such as “party of the first part.”

My heart sank as I put two and two together. My friend Bronwyn, who rents space in my store for her herbal stand, had filled me in on an incident that took place a couple of weeks ago while I was out scouting garage sales for resaleable treasure. It seems a woman came into the shop and started flicking through the merchandise, pronouncing it “unsuitable—too much of that dreadful ready-to-wear.” Bronwyn had explained to her that Aunt Cora’s Closet doesn’t deal in high-end vintage; our merchandise consists mostly of wearable clothes, with the occasional designer collectibles. The woman then turned to my employee Maya and started grilling her about the ins and outs of the store, making none-too-subtle inquiries about where we obtained our specialty stock.

Oscar started getting in the customer’s way, making a pest of himself and keeping her away from the

clothes. Bronwyn tried to call him off, but he kept at it, almost as though he was trying to herd her toward the exit. Finally the woman picked a parasol off a nearby shelf and started whacking Oscar, and there was a scuffle.

The woman had screamed and flailed, lost her balance, and fell back into a rack of colorful swing dresses. Maya and Bronwyn hastily extricated her, made sure she was all right, and offered profuse apologies. The woman had seemed fine at the time, they both said, and she stomped out of the store in high dudgeon.

But if I was reading the legal papers correctly, the woman—named Autumn Jennings—was now claiming she had been “head-butted” by an “unrestrained pig,” had been injured in the “attack,” and was demanding compensation.

It was a mystery. Oscar had never herded—much less head-butted—anyone in Aunt Cora’s Closet before. He wasn’t the violent type. In fact, apart from a few occasions when he intervened to save my life, Oscar was more the “let’s eat grilled cheese and take a nap” type.

He was also my witch’s familiar, albeit an unusual one. Oscar was a shape-shifter who assumed the form of a miniature Vietnamese potbellied pig when around cowans—regular, nonmagical humans. Around me, his natural form was sort of a cross between a goblin and a gargoyle. A gobgoyle, for lack of a better word. His was a lineage about which I didn’t want to think too hard.

“Bad vibes, Dude,” Conrad said with a sage nod. “Been there. Dude, I hate being served.”

“You’ve been served?” I asked. Conrad was in his early twenties and lived such a vagabond existence it was hard to imagine why anyone would bother to sue him. I could easily imagine his being picked up by police in a sweep of the local homeless population, but how would a process server even know where to find Conrad to serve him papers?

He nodded. “Couple times. But at least yours arrived on a Ducati. That’s a nice bike.”

“What did you—” My question was cut off by the approach of none other than Aidan Rhodes, witchy godfather to San Francisco’s magical community. His golden hair gleamed in the sun, a beautifully tailored sports jacket hugged his tall frame, and a leather satchel was tucked under one strong arm. As he strolled

down Haight Street with his signature graceful glide, strangers stopped to stare. Aidan’s aura glittered so brilliantly that even nonsensitive people noticed, though they didn’t realize what they were reacting to.

This is all I need.

I girded my witchy loins.

Things between Aidan and me were . . . complicated. Not long ago I’d stolen something from Aidan, and I still owed him. And when it comes to debts, we witches are a little like elephants, bookies, and the Internet: We never forget. Even worse, Aidan feared San Francisco was shaping up to be ground zero in some sort of big magical showdown, and he wanted me to stand with him for the forces of good. Or, at the very least, for the good of Aidan Rhodes. It was hard to say exactly what was going on—and exactly what role I was willing to play in it—since the threat was frustratingly nonspecific, and Aidan played his cards infuriatingly close to his chest.

“Good morning,” Aidan said as he joined us. “Conrad, it’s been too long. How have you been?”

Despite their vastly different circumstances and lifestyles, Aidan treated Conrad with the respect due a peer. His decency sort of ticked me off. My life would be simpler if I could dismiss Aidan as an arrogant, power-hungry witch beyond redemption. His kindness toward my friend was difficult to reconcile with that image.

The two men exchanged pleasantries, chatting about the beauty of Golden Gate Park when bathed in morning dew and sunshine, and whether the Giants had a shot at the pennant this year. And then Aidan turned his astonishing, periwinkle blue gaze on me, sweeping me from head to foot.

Suddenly self-conscious, I smoothed the full skirt of my sundress.

“And Lily . . . Stunning as always. I do like that color on you. It’s as joyful as the first rays of dawn.”

“Thank you,” I said, blushing and avoiding his eyes. The dress was an orangey gold cotton with a pink embroidered neckline and hem, circa 1962, and I had chosen it this morning precisely because it reminded me of a sunrise. “Aren’t you just the sweet talker.”

“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” my mama used to tell me. Did this mean I was the fly and Aidan the fly catcher?

“Is everything all right?” Aidan asked. “Am I sensing trouble? Beyond the norm, I mean.”

“Dude, Lily just got served,” Conrad said.

“Served? I fear we aren’t speaking of breakfast.”

“A lawsuit,” I clarified.

“Ah. What a shame. Whatever happened?”

“Oscar head-butted a customer.”

“That’s . . . unusual.” Aidan had given me Oscar and knew him well. “Was this person badly injured?”

“I wasn’t there when it happened, but according to Bronwyn and Maya the customer seemed fine. But now she’s claiming she sustained ‘serious and debilitating neck and back injuries that hinder her in the completion of her work and significantly reduce her quality of life,’” I said, quoting from the document I still clutched tightly in my hand.

“That sounds most distressing. Might I offer my services in finding a resolution?”

“No. No, thank you.” The only thing worse than being slapped with a slip-and-fall lawsuit—the boogeyman of every small business owner—was being even more beholden to Aidan Rhodes than I already was. Besides . . . I wasn’t sure what he meant by “finding a resolution.” Aidan was one powerful witch. If he got involved, Autumn Jennings might very well wind up walking around looking like a frog.

“You’re sure?” Aidan asked. “These personal injury lawsuits can get nasty—and expensive, even if you win. As much as I hate to say it, you may have some liability here. Is it even legal to have a pig in the city limits?”

“Don’t worry about it; I’ve got it handled,” I said, not wishing to discuss the matter any further with him. “Was there some reason in particular you stopped by?”

Aidan grinned, sending sparkling rays of light dancing in the morning breeze. He really was the most astounding man.

“I was hoping we might have a moment to talk,” he said. “About business.”

My stomach clenched. Time to face the music. I did owe him, after all. “Of course, come on in.”

The door to Aunt Cora’s Closet tinkled as we went inside, and Bronwyn fluttered out from the back

room, cradling Oscar to her ample chest. She was dressed in billows of purple gauze, and a garland of wildflowers crowned her frizzy brown hair. Bronwyn was a fifty-something Wiccan, and one of the first—and very best—friends I had made upon my arrival in the City by the Bay not so very long ago.

“Hello, Aidan! So wonderful to see you again!” she gushed.

“Bronwyn, you light up this shop like fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

“Oh, you do go on.” She waved her hand but gave him a flirtatious smile. “But, Lily! Our little Oscaroo is very upset, poor thing! Maybe it has something to do with the woman with the motorcycle helmet who was just here—what was that about?”

“She was serving Lily with legal papers,” said Aidan.

“Legal papers?” Bronwyn asked as Oscar hid his snout under her arm. “For what?”

“Remember when Oscar”—I cast about for the right word—“harassed a woman a couple of weeks ago?”

Oscar snorted.

“Of course, naughty little tiny piggy pig pig,” Bronwyn said in a crooning baby voice. “But I have to say, she really was bothering all of us. But . . . she’s suing you? Seriously?”

I nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Well, now, that’s just bad karma,” Bronwyn said with a frown.

“You said she wasn’t hurt, though, right?”

“She was fine!” Bronwyn insisted. “She fell into the rack of swing dresses. You know how poofy those dresses are—there’s enough crinolines in the skirts to cushion an NFL linebacker, and she’s, what, a hundred pounds soaking wet? I saw her just the other day, when I brought her some of my special caramel-cherry-spice maté tea and homemade corn-cherry scones, and she seemed fine. As a matter of fact, when I arrived she was up on a ladder, and she certainly didn’t seem to have any back or neck injuries. She was a little under the weather, but it was a cold or the flu.”

“When was this?”

“Day before yesterday, I think . . . I thought I should make the effort, since you weren’t even here

when it happened. I just wanted to tell her I was sorry.”

“How did you know where to find her?”

“She left her business card. . . .” Bronwyn trailed off as she peeked behind her herbal counter. “I have it around here somewhere. Turns out, she’s a rival vintage clothing store owner, which explains why she was so interested. Her place is called Vintage Visions Glad Rags, over off Buchanan.”

“Really. That is interesting. What’s it like?”

“Very nice inventory, but if you ask me not nearly as warm and inviting as Aunt Cora’s Closet. She had some ball gowns that I’m sure were from the nineteenth century. But those are more museum pieces than anything someone would actually wear. The whole place was too snooty for my taste, by half. And expensive! Too rich for my blood.”

“Did anything happen while you were there? Did she say anything in particular?”

Bronwyn frowned in thought, then shook her head. “Nothing at all. She didn’t seem particularly bowled over by my gift basket, but she accepted it. But like I say, she told me she was a little under the weather, so maybe that accounts for her mood. She did have a very sweet dog, and I always say a pet lover is never irredeemable.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, blowing out a breath. “If you think of anything else, please let me know. Aidan and I are going to talk in the back for a moment.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Bronwyn said, lugging Oscar over to her herbal stand for a treat. Oscar was a miniature pig, but he was still a porker.

In the back room Aidan and I sat down at my old jade green Formica-topped table. I bided my time and waited for Aidan to speak first. In witch circles, simply asking “What may I help you with?” can open up a dangerous can of worms.

“I have to leave town for a little while,” he said.

“Really?” Even though I knew perfectly well that he had lived elsewhere in the past, including when he’d worked with the father who had abandoned me, in my mind Aidan was so associated with San Francisco that it was hard to imagine him in any other locale. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“And here I was rather hoping you would beg me to stay,” he said in a quiet voice, his gaze holding mine.

“Far be it from me to dictate to the likes of Aidan Rhodes.”

He smiled. “In any case, I need a favor.”

Uh-oh.

“First,” he said, “I’ll need you to keep tabs on Selena.”

Selena was a talented but troubled teenage witch who had come into my life recently. She reminded me of myself at her age: socially awkward and dangerously magical.

I clenched my teeth. It wasn’t Aidan’s place to tell me to watch over Selena; she needed all of us with whom she had grown close. But it was true that Aidan and I had both been helping her to train her powers. In her case, as in mine, the biggest challenge was learning to keep control over her emotions and her magic in general. But even as he was asking me to partner with him, Aidan still fancied himself the head of the local magical community—me included. It was very annoying.

“Of course,” I said. “I have been.”

“Of course,” Aidan repeated. “And Oscar can come in handy with that as well.”

I concentrated on reining in my irritation. It wouldn’t do to send something flying, which sometimes happened when I lost my temper. Proving that Selena and I weren’t that far apart in some areas of our development.

“You’re not Oscar’s master anymore,” I pointed out.

He nodded slowly. “So true. Alas, I will leave that in your more than capable hands, then. Also while I’m gone I need you to fill in for me and adjudicate a few issues. Nothing too strenuous.”

“Beg pardon?”

He handed me a heavy, well-worn leather satchel tied with a black ribbon. “You’re always so curious about what I do for the local witchcraft community. Now’s your chance to find out.”

“I never said I wanted to find out. I’m really perfectly happy being in the dark.”

Aidan smiled. “Why do I find that hard to believe? In any event, find out you shall.”

I sighed. As curious as I was about Aidan’s world, I hesitated to be drawn into it. However, I was in his debt and the bill had come due. “Fine. I’m going to need more information, though. What all is involved in ‘adjudicating issues’?”

He shrugged. “Little of this, little of that. Mostly it means keeping an eye on things, making sure nothing gets out of hand. Handling disputes, assisting with certifications . . . Valuable job skills that really beef up the résumé, you’ll see.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, skeptical. At the moment I didn’t need a more impressive résumé. I needed a lawyer. “What kind of certifications?”

“Fortune-tellers and necromancers must be licensed in the city and county of San Francisco. Surely your good friend Inspector Romero has mentioned this at some point.”

“He has, but since I’m neither a fortune-teller nor a necromancer I didn’t pay much attention. So that’s what you do? Help people fill out forms down at City Hall? Surely—”

“It’s all terribly glamorous, isn’t it? Resolving petty squabbles, unraveling paperwork snafus . . . The excitement never ends,” he said with another smile. “But it’s necessary work, and you’re more than qualified to handle it while I’m gone. You’ll find everything you need in there.”

I opened the satchel and took a peek. Inside were what appeared to be hundreds of signed notes written on ancient parchment, a business card with the mayor’s cell phone number written on the back in pencil, and a jangly key ring. I pulled out the keys: One was an old-fashioned skeleton key, but the others were modern and, I assumed, unlocked his office at the recently rebuilt wax museum. “Aidan, what are . . . ?”

I looked up, but Aidan was gone, his departure marked by a slight sway of the curtains. Letting out a loud sigh of exasperation, I grumbled, “I swear, that man moves like a vampire.”

“Vampire?” Bronwyn poked her head through the curtains, Oscar still in her arms. “Are we worried about vampires now?”

“No, no, of course not,” I assured her as I closed the satchel and stashed it under the workroom table. “Sorry—just talking to myself.”

“Oh, thank the goddess!” said Bronwyn, and set Oscar down. Whenever Aidan was around, Oscar became excited to the point of agitation, and his little hooves clicked on the wooden planks of the floor as he hopped around. “Never a dull moment at Aunt Cora’s Closet.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I hope you enjoyed getting to read this excerpt ahead of the official release date.  I love Miss Blackwell and her three mystery series.