Bewitching: A Paranormal Women's Midlife Fiction Novel (Murray and Tidswell Paranormal Investigations 3)

Bewitching Murray and Tidswell Paranormal Investigations: Book Four J E Nice Write into the Woods Publishing Copyright Copyright © J E Nice 2023 All rights reserved. J E Nice has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, organisations, and events portrayed in this novel, other than those clearly in the public domain, are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. First published in Great Britain in 2023 by Write Into The Woods Publishing. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. ISBN 978-1-912903-42-9 Cover design and typesetting by Write into the Woods. www.writeintothewoods.com www.jenice.co.uk Contents Dedication 1. Bethany 2. Erica 3. Jess 4. Rick 5. Erica 6. Erica 7. Fen 8. Jess 9. Jess 10. Rick 11. Erica 12. Erica 13. Bethany 14. Jess 15. Jess 16. Rick 17. Erica 18. Erica 19. Fen 20. Jess 21. Jess 22. Rick 23. Erica 24. Erica 25. Bethany 26. Jess 27. Jess 28. Rick 29. Erica 30. Erica 31. Fen 32. Jess 33. Jess 34. Rick 35. Erica 36. Erica 37. Bethany 38. Jess 39. Jess 40. Erica 41. Erica 42. Jess 43. Jess 44. Rick 45. Jess 46. Fen 47. Erica Erica and Jess will return in Bedevilling Want More From Erica and Jess? Other Books by J E Nice Dedication For my mum. And with thanks to Bucky the dog for putting up with me standing in the patch of bluebells at the back of our local woods, waiting for a fae. 1 Bethany As weeks went, Bethany had had better ones, although she couldn’t quite remember when. There had been an assumption that this round of exams would be different. She was older now, more experienced with this type of thing, and yet somehow there was more pressure. Pressure that was seeping into every aspect of her life. She found a fallen tree trunk to sit on and took a deep breath of the air. While there was a road close by, it was easy to block out the noise and smell of petrol to focus on the bird song and scent of the trees as they eased their way back to life. Something inside Bethany lifted. Springtime had always been her favourite. She took another deep breath. There wouldn’t be much more of the stress, surely. She only had a few exams left and then she’d say goodbye to school. There would be a week or so of celebrating with friends and then a summer job to find. The anxiety of getting her results and then, all being well, she’d go to university in September and start afresh. Her stomach twisted, but she ignored it. University would be wonderful, full of new friends, new opportunities, new possibilities. No one would know her, she could be whoever she wanted to be. Her stomach twisted again, harder this time. With a shaky breath, Bethany closed her eyes and lifted her face to the shafts of sunlight that filtered through the trees. Everything was going to be okay. She inhaled deeply and caught a trace of something floral. Opening her eyes, she looked around and then found her feet, following her nose until she reached a muddy path off the well-used track. There hadn’t been rain for a few days and the mud was drying hard so it was easy to walk over as Bethany ventured down the path. She stopped when she came across a clearing filled with an array of dazzling purple bluebells. ‘Wow.’ It came out in an exhale, barely a word. As if in response a breeze ripped through the clearing, rattling the bluebells, and there was that glorious smell again. It wasn’t until Bethany was exhaling a lungful of air that she noticed the man sitting on a tree stump a little further down. Heart jolting, Bethany turned to leave. ‘Don’t be scared,’ said the man. Bethany hesitated. He must have been in his early twenties and was attractive enough that her throat felt like it was closing, her cheeks immediately turned red and sweat beaded in the small of her back. ‘They’re pretty, aren’t they?’ the man said, looking over the bluebells. ‘This is my favourite spot to see them. Most people go to the so-called bluebell woods, but what’s the point in such a view when the paths are filled with people who don’t appreciate the quiet required?’ He breathed in and smiled. ‘I’m glad I’m not the only one to appreciate these ones, but I do hope you won’t tell too many people about this place.’ There was something disarming about the man and Bethany found herself smiling and nodding. ‘I won’t,’ she managed. There was a pause. It would have been easy to leave but for some reason Bethany remained in place. The man continued to watch the flowers and she took the excuse to study him some more. His skin was white and pale, almost reflective of the flowers he was admiring, while his hair was the darkest she’d ever seen, cut short but with a floppy bit at the front that was somehow endearing. As he turned and met her gaze, her heart squeezed with just how green his eyes were. ‘My name’s Fen. What’s yours?’ What sort of a name was Fen? Was that short for something? ‘Bethany,’ she said as the questions fell over one another in her mind. ‘I tend to come here when I need quiet,’ said Fen. ‘When my world gets too busy or loud.’ Bethany nodded. ‘Me too. The woods, I mean. I like