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  Snitch Witch

  J. L. Collins

  Snitch Witch © J. L. Collins 2019.

  Amazon Kindle First Edition.

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  Cover design by Seedlings Design Studio

  For Dayton and for Lucy.

  You are the bright stars in the night that have me constantly searching for greater things and meaning in this life. Because of you and your light, my world is complete. Because of you, I am whole.

  Love, Mommy

  More from J. L. Collins

  Spell Maven Mystery Series Order:

  Spell Maven from Spell Haven (Book 1)

  Snitch Witch (Book 2)

  Tragic Magick (Book 3)

  West of Wicked (Book 4)

  Keep track of J. L.’s new and upcoming book releases and join her fun giveaways, behind the scenes work, and occasional pictures of her dog!

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  Book 1

  Book 2

  Tragic Magick

  Contents

  1. A Change of Weather

  2. Time for a Break

  3. Warts and Whatnot

  4. Death in the Library

  5. A Hangover Cure

  6. Girls Having Fun

  7. Veggies and Cadavers

  8. Buried Treasure

  9. Under House Arrest

  10. Queens and Pawns

  11. Trial in the Tower

  12. Back in the Real World

  13. Into the Woods

  14. Memories of the Hiker

  15. On the Move

  16. A Delicate Situation

  17. An Unfortunate Rejection

  18. Weekend Getaway

  19. A Big-Mouth’s Gamble

  20. Pixie Dust and a Thief

  21. Stolen Time

  22. Change of Skins

  23. Back to Business

  24. Drinks on the Porch Swing

  The End.

  About the Author

  1

  A Change of Weather

  Each channel flickered on the TV for a split-second before abruptly changing to the next. My daughter’s freckled hand lazily held up the remote, pointing it over her head at the screen, while the other one scrolled through her phone. From my angle, all I could see of her head was the ever-growing length of soft red hair flowing over the edge of the couch.

  I did my best not to grit my teeth too hard. “Why bother with the TV when your nose is already buried in a screen?”

  The TV was off in an instant, the remote dropped down to the floor, forgotten.

  “Not necessary,” I grumbled from in the kitchen, squeezing the last remnants of French dressing over our salad bowls. “You know, it would be great if instead of being all grouchy with me, you’d at least tell me what’s wrong.”

  There was a dramatic sigh before her pair of heavy Doc Martens stamped across the floor. Each step was louder than the last.

  “Seriously, Mom?” Fiona-Leigh was leaning against the end of the counter, a scowl twisting her pretty features into an expression I could only explain as ‘teen-angst chic.’

  “Seriously,” I repeated, biting my tongue to keep from mocking her. The last thing I needed was to stoke the flame. “Just spit it out, honey.” Even though I was busy searching the drawer for forks, I could feel her eyes on me.

  Truth be told, I really didn’t want to have a conversation with an amped-up fourteen-year-old. And it couldn’t be something simple like her wanting a tattoo, to pierce her nose, or even to chain herself to a tree in the face of deforestation—no. It had to be this particular subject.

  “I just don’t see what the big deal is! Aunt Bedelia already said she could teach me at the Apothecarium! I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and it’s not like I can actually do magic or anything. At least I could help out there. I could learn something. It’s better than being here, away from our entire family. A family you didn’t even tell me about, in case you forgot. . .” she let her voice trail off as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “You do not need to remind me, Fiona-Leigh. I’m the one who missed them every day, in case you forgot,” I snapped, unable to help myself.

  “Because you chose to!”

  Sucking air in between my teeth, I tried steadying myself. Even though I knew Fiona-Leigh was still somewhat resentful about me keeping the secret of my magical hometown of Spell Haven and the fact that I’m a Witch from her, I didn’t expect her to just fling it back in my face like that.

  “You aren’t wrong. It was my choice, and I can’t go back and change it. But that’s not the point here, Fiona-Leigh. It’s that you have an entire life here—your friends, your school, everything you’ve ever known is in Midnight Pitch. Are you really so eager to give all of that up?”

  She rolled her eyes as if I were the one sulking. “I wouldn’t have to give it all up, Mom. I could still visit.”

  “Oh, right. Because no one would wonder where you’d gone, and why they couldn’t reach you on your phone.” I skirted around her, setting the bowls of salad down on the kitchen table. “And there’s nothing to learn if you can’t contain the magic necessary to cast or to use—”

  “—potions, yeah I get it. I’m not a Witch so I can’t sit with you. Whatever.”

  We locked eyes over the table.

  A raspy whistle let loose from somewhere around Fiona-Leigh’s feet.

  “My, my, looks like someone’s having a bit of a tiff, wouldn’t you say, Jax?” Oisín’s velvety voice purred as he stretched out his long front legs, his large furry behind and tail sticking straight up. Jax, our overzealous dog, spun around in a circle.

  A frown pulled at the corners of the black cat’s mouth. “Ugh. Why do I even bother attempting to talk to you when all you understand is how to lick your own butt?”

  Ignoring him, I reached down and scratched behind Jax's fluffy white ears. "Besides, you spent a good portion of the summer in Spell Haven with everyone. Why can't we just agree that you spend summers there, and the rest of your school time here at home with me?"

  I was honestly so tired of this argument that I was willing to fall back on bribery if I absolutely had to.

  Apparently, this wasn't going to be good enough for her, though.

  "Yeah, I got the summer there, sort of. I mean it's not like you let me stay there the entire summer or anything. I really wouldn't have —"

  “–and what about everything else here? What about Marina? All the plans the two of you made during the school year? It's like ever since you found out about my past, you want nothing to do with your own life. And I can see why Spell Haven is so intriguing to you, honey. For someone who didn't grow up within the magical community it must seem like the shiniest, brightest thing around. But your life is great too. I just wish you would pay more attention to it. I'm worried that… now that you know everything, you're not paying as much attention to your grades, to your friends—heck—even to us here in your own house!"

  She was just about to open her mouth and retort with what I’m sure was a massively snarky remark, when a loud knock startled both of us. I glanced over at the front door where I could just
barely make out a patch of dark curly hair through the window.

  "Better hurry up and answer it, Mom. We all know you don't want to keep your boyfriend waiting . . ."

  I scowled at her from over my shoulder. "He's not my boyfriend," I hissed, though I couldn't help but smooth down the frizzy flyaway hair in my face before I pulled open the door.

  "Sully! Hi!"

  My neighbor Sully Pritchett—and the not so secret object of my affection— grinned at me behind the screen door, giving me a little wave. "Hey Gwen. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to go ahead and drop off your lawn mower before I head off to work. Thank you again, by the way. I still can't believe mine went kaput on me yesterday."

  I blinked, nearly forgetting that I had loaned Sully my lawn mower the day before. "Oh, right. Yes of course, it's no problem. You're already finished with it?"

  He nodded, his soft dark curls swaying around the crown of his head. How in the world did he get gifted such a gorgeous head of hair?

  "Man, I have to admit it's still sort of funny seeing you like . . . that," Sully said, gesturing to my own hair.

  Speaking of hair… I glanced down at my wavy tufts of lilac hair that—for the past fourteen years at least—had been a boring brown color. While it had been nice not to have to keep up with dyeing my more conspicuous natural hair color to brown over the summer, it sure caused some turned heads. Especially those of whom I knew personally. Nervous laughter bubbled up and spilled out of me, unwillingly. "Oh, yeah. I know. I swear it's not a midlife crisis or anything."

  "Of course not. You’re way too young for one of those."

  I bit my lip to steel myself against the desire to turn into a puddle of goo. But there was no denying the blush that crept up into my cheeks. "Thanks. I don't suppose you want to come inside and have lunch with us, do you? I just picked up a couple bowls of salad for me and —"

  "I wish I could, but I have to head in to work. Another graveyard shift, I'm afraid.” Well, at least he looked sincere about missing out on lunch.

  I felt something swish across the backs of my legs. "Three lunch invitations this week . . . My, my, my," Oisín purred as he plopped down next to my feet.

  To my horror, Sully glanced down, both his dark eyebrows raised in concern. "Did your cat just . . .?”

  But Fi was already on it. She scooped up Oisín in an instant, giggling nervously next to me at the door. "Sorry, sometimes I like to pretend that I can make little Oisín here, talk. See?"

  She held Oisín up in a rather unflattering manner, heaving him up underneath his front legs, the rest of his great, furry black body hanging precariously as he yowled.

  "Put me down this instant, or I’ll scratch lover boy's eyes out here," Oisín hissed, as me and Fiona-Leigh we hesitated then laughing much louder than the situation warranted.

  Sully looked between the three of us, shaking his head. "Okay then . . . well, thanks again Gwen. I appreciate you letting me borrow your lawn mower. Maybe I'll be able to catch lunch with you another day this week?"

  There went that darn blushing again. “Sure thing. I’ll uh, let you know what day works best for me?”

  He nodded, flashing that sexy grin at me again.

  After saying bye, I slowly closed the door and slid halfway down it, letting out a breath I hadn’t even noticed I was holding. I gave Oisín a dirty look. "Are you playing crazy or are you actually insane? I didn't realize that permanently becoming a cat would make you certified. You can't just do that, Osh! Not to mention all the laws it breaks. I can only imagine what Uncle Gardner would think.”

  He rolled his eyes at me, squirming out of Fiona-Leigh's hands and landing almost silently back down the floor. "Sorry, sometimes I forget who I'm supposed to play the lovable and adorable household pet for. Forgive me."

  I sighed, knowing there was really nothing to be done about it. We were lucky. At least this time…

  If avoiding the fiasco led to anything positive however, at least Fiona-Leigh was speaking to me again.

  She pulled up a seat at the kitchen table, digging into her salad. "Thanks Mom," she mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  I didn’t like caving in to the easiness of ignoring our earlier fight, but my stomach growled as I picked up my bowl of salad doused in my favorite French dressing, and there was no denying it would be simpler to eat in peace. Taking a seat, I started in on my own bowl and idly wondered what the weather would be like during the week ahead.

  “Um, Mom?”

  Lost in my own thoughts, it was a wonder I didn’t notice the miniscule drops of water dripping over the expanse of the table between us. Confused, I looked up and gasped.

  There underneath the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, was a gray rain cloud approximately the size of a loaf of bread, moving ever so slowly from one end of the table to the other. An actual, real rain cloud complete with tiny drops of rain that were starting to come down in sheets the closer it got toward the middle of the table.

  “Mom! Aren’t you going to do something?”

  “Oh!” I fumbled for my wand in my back pocket, shaking the errant thoughts in my brain away as I mumbled a quick finishing spell.

  “Magic starts and circles then—magic stops and fully ends.”

  The gray cloud faded into nothingness, leaving behind only a rather soaked tabletop. Fiona-Leigh and I exchanged a look.

  “That was weird. How did you do that? I thought magic wasn’t really possible here, outside of the Other Realm?”

  I ignored the ache in her voice. “It’s not. Or at least, it wasn’t.” I caught the confused look on her face and sighed, adding, “I’ve heard they’re changing a few things regarding the laws.”

  “But what does that have to do with us here?” She leaned forward, her dark blue eyes hopeful.

  “Honestly, I’m not too sure. But I have a feeling that magic leaking into the Human Realm is a much-unwanted side effect to whatever they’re doing over there in Spell Haven. Looks like I’m going to have to pay a visit to Uncle Gardner.”

  2

  Time for a Break

  Rain pelted the windshield as the wipers squeaked across, clearing the way for another dreary day.

  "I'm so over this weather," I muttered to myself. Whether the rain clouds from yesterday were a premonition or what, I still wasn't sure.

  "I'm just saying . . . We could probably appeal to the Fae to change the weather in Spell Haven if—"

  It took everything in me not to slam on my brakes. "We’re not doing this again, young lady. I refuse."

  "But think of all the things that I could learn there! Think of all the things I could learn there and nowhere else, Mom. And maybe we can come up with a plan where I could just go to school there and then come—"

  "Fiona-Leigh Brady. This is your final warning, and I swear I will not give you another one. Drop this right now. You're not going to school in Spell Haven. You are not going to be moving to Spell Haven. You're not going to be stepping one pretty little foot of yours in Spell Haven unless I say so. Got it? Are we clear?"

  She slumped lower in her seat, staring willfully out the window. She could pout all she wanted to, that was fine by me.

  As we pulled up to the front of her school, she didn't even bother with a goodbye before pushing the door open violently, slamming it shut right behind her as she stormed up the steps to Gideon High School. I rolled my eyes.

  The weather didn’t clear up any before I made it into the dreary Union Gazette building, but once I settled into my cozy desk in my definitely-too-small office, I took a deep breath and tried to remind myself that my daughter's angsty phase was just that — a phase. Hopefully. Maybe. If I was lucky…

  My calendar was full of meetings, emails that needed replies, not to mention actual photography stints throughout the county. I sighed as I wrote down yet another appointment that our editor in chief, Henry, had just phoned in for the photography department that basically consisted of myself with guest appearances from our mail room
intern, Kirby. He was about as close to a professional photographer as you could get, but he only worked part-time.

  September 16th… September 16th. Why was that date sticking out to me?

  Oh, that's right! I had almost forgotten that my ten-year anniversary at the Union Gazette was approaching quickly. Not to mention the hefty three-week vacation package I'd start receiving along with it. Thanks to the help of Henry, I was already booked for a three-week vacation I had to use up by the end of the year, starting next week, actually. I leaned back in my chair, unable to stop myself from grinning. Huh. At least there was an upside to this rather yucky day, after all.

  The morning quickly flew by and before I knew it, it was time for my lunch break. I yawned, heading into the brightly-lit staff room. The smell of burnt popcorn wasn’t doing anyone any favors. I glanced at the sign on the crooked bulletin board. ‘THE MICROWAVE IS NOT FOR MAKING POPCORN,’ signed by Henry himself, was apparently not enough of a warning to others.

  "Going out to eat today, Gwen?" Henry asked me, startling the heck out of me as he yanked his lunch box out of the refrigerator.

  I shook my head. "Nah, not today. I brought my lunch . . . I mean, if you want to call it that."

  I was settling for leftovers from last night's rather bland chili. It looked just about as appetizing sitting there in the now-stained plastic Tupperware container, as it had the night before. Who was I to snub my nose at burnt popcorn when I could barely throw some chili together in a pot and call it edible?