Bakeries and Buffoonery (Magical Mystery Book Club, Book 4)(Paranormal Women's Midlife Fiction)

~ Bakeries and Buffoonery ~ Magical Mystery Book Club, 4 By Elizabeth Pantley www.ElizabethPantley.com © Elizabeth Pantley, Better Beginnings, Inc. 2022 With special thanks to Robert, Linda, Nick, Mia, and Thomas Cover Design by Molly Burton, Cozy Cover Designs https://cozycoverdesigns.com/ Editing by Melissa Bowersock Disclaimer This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold to other people. This is a copyrighted work, and no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, printed or in formats not yet known or invented, without the express written permission of the owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews. All rights are reserved, worldwide. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual places or events is purely coincidental. Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 What happens next? 1 A rhythmic tapping on the wall started somewhere near the front door. It moved down the hall toward us, and then Frank, our dashing Siamese library cat, burst into the room with the swagger he was so good at. The tapping continued, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor in a pulsating beat. He started to shimmy his shoulders and hum a tune. As if that wasn’t odd enough, he began to rap. “Book club day is here. Adventure, do you dare? Tell me where we’re goin’ But I don’t really care. Dead bodies they are waitin’ For some investigatin’ Lead the waaay—" He looked up and stopped mid-rap, his extended claw in the air. He saw me and Glo sitting at the counter. His entire demeanor drooped. “Seriously?” he grumbled. “That spectacular entrance and only two of you are here to witness it? What a complete and total waste of talent.” “You could always go outside and wait. Come back when more of the group has gathered,” I suggested, taking a relaxed sip of my tea. “Nah. The freshness is lost.” He jumped up onto the counter. “How about you make up for it by brewing me a pot of coffee?” “What exactly are we making up for?” asked Glo, her brows lifted in question. “Your lack of enthusiasm. Your inability to appreciate the art. Your failure to acknowledge the artist.” “I won’t admit to any of that, but I can make you a pot of coffee,” I said. “Thank you, Paige.” He took a deep breath, sat down, and settled in to begin grooming his tail. “I’m happy to see that you’re so excited for book club day.” I took out a small bowl and a container of my favorite creamer, the one I knew he loved, too. I held up the bottle toward him. “You know this stuff isn’t good for you, right?” “And yet it’s good for you?” His whiskers twitched. He walked across the counter, leaned over to look at the bottle and squinted at the label. “Corn syrup, mal-toe-dextrin, mono-digly-cerides, carra-gee-nan—” “Yes, yes. I’m aware of the ingredients, but I don’t care to be reminded of them. I like the front label better: Caramel Cinnamon Cream.” “But I don’t see caramel, cinnamon, or cream on this label, Miss Paige-o-paper. You told me you shouldn’t eat things you can’t pronounce.” “And you could learn to keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, because frankly I don’t give a—” Glo snickered, then covered it with a cough. “Do you want this delicious caramel cinnamon creamer in your coffee or not?” I asked the cat. “Did I ever say I didn’t? Load me up, girl!” “Helloooo! G’morning, book club partners!” Sebastian glided into the kitchen, pausing to give Glo and me air kisses on the cheek on his way to deposit a tray of appetizers on the counter. “Coffee will be ready in a minute,” I said. “Fantastic! Nobody else here yet?” He looked around the room. Frank cleared his throat, but it came out sounding more like he was hacking up a hairball. Sebastian rushed over to the counter and leaned down to stroke the back of the cat’s head. “I guess all the important members are already here,” he cooed. He kissed Frank on the top of his head with a loud smack of his lips. “Good save, my man,” said Frank. “What’d you bring?” “Bagels, cream cheese, and—” “Pleeease say lox,” said Frank, putting his paws together in prayer. “Broccoli!” said Sebastian. He giggled at Frank’s scowl. “Kidding. You goofball. Of course it’s lox.” Moonbeam breezed into the kitchen, her arms loaded with reusable canvas grocery bags overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables. “Hooray!” said Glo. “I see the makings for one of Moonbeam’s delicious smoothies.” “You sure do,” said Moonbeam, tossing her wild curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head. “Morning, everyone!” Forrest had come in behind his mother, head down and scanning his phone screen. He looked up, smiled at us, and waved. The kitchen was soon filled with chatter. One would think we hadn’t seen each other for a year, based on the level of frivolity in the kitchen. Our book club met weekly, but each gathering was fresh and fun. The sound of a motorcycle out front interrupted our catching-up, joking, and gossip. “Vee’s here!” said Forrest. “I’m going out to see her bike.” Forrest left the kitchen, passing Atticus coming in. They did some kind of awkward secret handshake. Since