Witch Interrupted (Midlife Witches of Holiday Grove, Book 1)(Paranormal Women's Midlife Fiction)

Witch, Interrupted Midlife Magic Harmony Grove Shelley Dorey About This Book The very last place she wants to go is home. She fled that tiny hamlet—Harmony Grove—many years ago. Dis-Harmony Grove is more like it, considering the friction between the two Covens of Witches. It’s like the Hatfields and McCoys, each of them laying claim to the magical Stream. The Stream flows over a powerful ley line, nourishing and strengthening their magic, so it takes a strong witch like her grandmother to keep the peace between them. The life Samara created for herself in Spain—as far as from the small hamlet as she could travel—has been good. She raised her daughter in the villa on the Mediterranean and no one looked twice when she used her magic in casinos. All good, right? Everything changes when Sage turns twenty, leaving to discover her roots in Harmony Grove. The villa feels empty even though she acquired a ‘Familiar’, Max the smart-ass feline. And the wannabe boyfriend is…well he’s okay, but not THE GUY. Hell, she’s turning fifty, so that ship sailed long ago. Life can turn on a dime. Learning that her beloved grandmother is on death’s door, she returns to ‘the Grove’ for what she believes is one last time. Hardly recovered from jet-lag, she reconnects with prickly family members, hooks up with a still sizzling hot old flame and gets embroiled in a murder investigation. She’s the prime suspect. This time there’s no running away. If she can’t prove her innocence in 48 hours, she will be stripped of her magic, banished from the coven and trade her black cape for an orange jumpsuit. Orange is the new black? Yeah. It’s Dis-Harmony Grove. If you like paranormal women’s fiction featuring women who’ve experienced some of life’s challenges and can still laugh, a visit to Harmony Grove will warm your heart while you chuckle at the antics. The four generations of the Kane family, from Stella the great-grandmother to Sybil the Nana of the family to Samara and her twenty-year-old daughter Sage, prove magic is powered by love and laughter. Copyright ISBN: 978-1-988913-48-3 Copyright © 2023 by Shelley Dorey All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Pay To Play 2. Now's Not The Time 3. The Homecoming 4. Sparks 5. Rules Of The Game 6. The Chosen 7. The Stream 8. Dreams And Nightmares 9. Old Times 10. L'il Dipper 11. Romani Ruse 12. A Night Out 13. Warnings 14. Sore Points 15. Portents 16. Get Packing 17. Endurance 18. Mama Bear 19. NO Magic! 20. ‘He’s My WHAT?’ 21. ‘Where’s Stella?’ 22. Two Days 23. Strength In Numbers 24. A Dark Weight 25. Two Halves Of The Same Soul 26. Uh-Oh… 27. Oompa-Loompa With A Gun 28. The Cove Helps 29. Becky 30. A Posse Of Witches 31. Here Goes Nuthin’ 32. The Plot Thickens 33. Confessions 34. The Body... 35. Where’s Wanda? 36. Lights Out… 37. Shedding A Light On Things 38. The Gathering 39. The Emissary 40. Going Forward… Author's Note An Invitation... Other Works Chapter one Pay To PlayHow do I look?” Samara leaned closer to the mirror, freshening up her lipstick before adjusting the waistband of the pleated plaid shirt. After straightening the sides of the cotton cardigan, her gaze shifted to take in the bed behind her. Crap! Did he never tire of it? Max lay half sprawled there, contorting his neck to give his tummy a tongue-bath. At least it wasn’t his privates, for once. There was that to be thankful for.She pivoted around, glaring at the mangy fur-ball. “Hey! This is way more important than your hygiene, Max. I need to pull this off, y’know, or you can kiss the Fancy Feast treats goodbye. Understand?” Damn. She should have left him at home. And thanks to lugging a cat along, she’d had to book the Columbia instead of the posh Fairmont Inn. No cats allowed there.He paused and turned sleepy amber eyes to her. ‘What do you want me to say? That you’re gorgeous? The epitome of chic, haute couture? Yeah, the skirt hanging past your knees, the horn-rimmed glasses looping on a chain and helmet hairstyle are so provocative. So smexy, Sammy.’ He blinked and turned away. ‘I think you might be over-playing the frumpy spinster look, just a bit.’She smiled as if he’d given her the best compliment in the world. “You think it works? You’re not just saying that to make me feel good are you, Max?”He stood up and stretched, arching his striped back. ‘Look, you’re a witch. It’s not like you can’t do your magic there on the floor. The dealer slaps down his cards and you know with just a thought that you’ll beat him. The roulette spins and presto, it lands on a red thirty-four just the way you bet. I really don’t get why you always obsess and create these elaborate disguises.’Rolling her eyes, she cursed inwardly. Back to the perpetual argument with the pesky feline. Why had the universe chosen a mangy tom cat as her familiar? And as for being familiar, he certainly was! Her reincarnated ex? Seriously? But at least the universe in its perverse wisdom had got one thing right. Max was still the philandering horn-dog—or now cat!—he’d always been.She counted to ten… almost made it to seven before blaring at him. “I need to be eminently forgettable. A middle-aged—” ‘You are middle-aged, Sammy.’“Shut up!” Did he have to remind her every day? “As I was saying… no one looks twice at a middle-aged, frumpy librarian type in ortho shoes. I’ve cashed out at the Sun a few times this year already, so I don’t want them thinking twice when I cash out tonight, okay? We’ll make bank, and then fade into the tourist spots on the beach for a day or two before going home.”Max rolled