by Zoe Arden
Frosting Disaster
Sweetland Witch Series
Zoe Arden
ReedFoster Press House
A Cozy Mystery Book
Contents
Copyright
Like my page
For You Personally
Dedication
About The Author
Personal Word from Zoe
Prologue
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Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-one
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Chapter Twenty-two
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Chapter Twenty-three
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Chapter Twenty-four
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Chapter Twenty-five
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Chapter Twenty-six
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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Chapter Twenty-eight
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Chapter Twenty-nine
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Chapter Thirty
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Chapter Thirty-one
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Chapter Thirty-two
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Chapter Thirty-three
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Chapter Thirty-four
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Chapter Thirty-five
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Chapter Thirty-six
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Chapter Thirty-seven
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Chapter Thirty-eight
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Chapter Thirty-nine
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Chapter Forty
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Epilogue
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Preview of Next Book
Also By . ORDER OF BOOKS
For You Personally
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by
Zoe Arden
and
ReedFoster press House
All Rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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DEDICATION
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This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!
First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.
Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit just for a little while.
Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading what I have written.
Thank you!
“ The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. ”
Oscar Wilde
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.
Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.
What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.
Much Love,
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PERSONAL WORD
FROM ZOE ARDEN
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Hello, lovely reader!
In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.
You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off layers and layers of suspense and clues.
And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?
That’s for you to find out.
Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing career.
Much Love,
Prologue
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"Excuse me, ma'am," a handsome reporter said, lurching toward Renee with his microphone. He moved so fast he nearly tripped over his feet and sent Renee flying backward. Luckily, he caught himself before he could make a fool of her.
Behind him, a photographer snapped her picture, his lights so blindingly bright that for the next minute everything she looked at was surrounded by a halo of orange-gold light. She blinked several times until it faded then shot them her widest, prettiest smile. She'd had her teeth capped a couple of years ago and was glad now that she'd made the expense.
"What made you come out for this event today?" the reporter asked, his eyes skimming the outside of the building where the Council on Magic and Human Affairs resided. Only, of course, to most people it looked like an ordinary building. The Council—COMHA, as she knew most witches and wizards called it— had gone through a variety of disguises over the years. Currently, they hid behind the guise of plungers. The sign out front read Plungers, Inc., and inside it looked like any normal office building. Renee knew better, though. She knew that COMHA was creating magic and doing all sorts of nasty things in there.
Renee thought the reporter's own smile was far too smarmy as he continued to press
his microphone closer but she flashed her pearly whites for him anyway. If she was lucky, this might get on the nine o'clock news. If they made it on the nine o'clock news instead of buried in the four o'clock like they normally were, she might be seen by millions of people. Or at least anyone in Florida. If everyone in Florida saw them, they might get more recruits. The more recruits they got the better. So far, there were only a couple dozen of them in Mothers Against Paranormal Predators and that wasn't enough to make any real changes. That wasn't enough to stop the evil lurking in her world.
"Well," Renee said, stepping further into the light and turning to her good side for the camera, "this is an issue I believe very strongly in. As does everyone here." There were general murmurs of agreement from her friends Bebe and Sally, as well as the others.
"You believe strongly in stopping paranormal predators?" the reporter asked, forcing back the laughter that tried to rise from his throat. He clearly wasn't taking this seriously, like most people. The more she looked at him, the less handsome she thought he looked.
"That's right," Renee said, still smiling. Sally and Bebe were standing nearby. They stepped closer to her butting Vivian Henderson out of the way and almost stepping on her feet. Vivian glared at them.
There were only two cameramen and the other one had moved to the few men who had turned out for the afternoon event. They were standing in a group of four and looking suddenly uncomfortable as a female reporter asked repeatedly what made them join an organization that, up until now, had been comprised only of women.
"Do you believe as strongly in what this group stands for as the women who started it?" the female reporter asked, her blond hair bouncing on her shoulders.
"Err..." the men said and shrugged. One of them, the bravest of the group, looked around and pulled at his collar, which appeared to be burning his face, or maybe it was the way passersby were staring at him. "Someone mentioned free food," he said meekly.
The female reporter turned away with a smirk on her face and found her photographer's ear. In a low voice that Renee still caught—she had expert hearing thanks to her years as a single mother; it was a sense she'd had to develop when she'd caught Damon trying to sneak out of his room in the eighth grade—heard the woman say, "I told you we were dealing with a bunch of looney toons. Even their own members don't take this group seriously. If Bill gives me one more screwball assignment like this I'm leaving and going to Channel Five."
Renee's face burned brighter. She looked away from the small group of men—only four of them had come out anyway, no great loss there; MAPP didn't need men to be legitimate— and realized that Bebe and Sally had sidled up directly next to her. They were flashing their smiles for the camera still pointed in her direction. Vivian tried to squish in between them but Bebe and Sally blocked her out. Vivian was quite pretty and if she got in the mix, the cameramen were likely to focus on her and forget about everyone else. They squeezed her out and Vivian stomped off, joining a different cluster of MAPP members whom she could complain to.
"I know that people don't take Mothers Against Paranormal Predators seriously," Sally said, and Renee heard all the lookie-loos begin to crack up. She had not expected quite the crowd they were getting. This was far more people than usually came out for their protests. She supposed it was because they were in a busy part of the city, in a busy part of the afternoon. Dean Lampton, the wizard who ran COMHA, was still inside the building working. She'd seen him peek out of one of the windows earlier.
Sally was still talking, hogging all the spotlight. What was worse, she was doing a poor job of explaining their organization. She was making them sound even crazier than people already thought they were. "Witches and wizards are inherently evil, you see. And they're living amongst us right now. My mother was killed by a paranormal predator when I was a child. But MAPP is determined to—"
Renee could take no more of it. She cut Sally off. "We're going to prove to the world that the supernatural does exist. That paranormal predators are a real threat to our children. Why, my own son..." She cut herself off, suddenly uncertain if she wanted to reveal this part of her life. Maybe it was too much.
"Yes?" the male reporter prompted her, his eyes eager.
Renee let out a breath.
"My husband and I used to live on an island full of paranormal predators. Heavenly Haven."
"You mean the tourist island just off the coast here?" he asked.
"Yes but it's much more than a tourist hotspot. My husband was... m-murdered by a wizard in Sweetland Cove," Renee said, tears springing to her eyes. "They used an oobleck spell on him and he turned into a pile of goo."
Several people in the crowd began to call out questions.
"What kind of goo?"
"What color was it?"
"What's an oobleck spell?"
"Did you say goo or glue?"
The female reporter had joined the male one now. Both cameras were pointed at her. The reporters were nodding sympathetically, their eyes glowing with humor. They were finding this funny; her misery was entertainment to them. She had to make them understand.
"Years later, my son became... involved with a witch." She cringed at the memory. It still made her ill to think about it.
Damon had actually introduced her to Ava Fortune as if it were perfectly natural to date a witch who could conjure drinks out of thin air and could probably slice your head off with a wave of her hand. She'd made her feelings known and had been pleased when Damon had cut off all ties with that woman and moved off of Heavenly Haven altogether. That island was nothing but a breeding ground for the paranormal and the central focus of MAPP's investigations.
"Your son is dating a witch?" the female reporter asked.
"Was dating a witch," Renee corrected her. "He realized he was making a huge mistake, and now he's involved with a nice human girl." She garnered sympathetic looks from the other members of MAPP, though the crowd was looking at her as if she'd said arsenic was good for you.
"Was this on Heavenly Haven, too?" the same reporter asked, jotting something down.
"Yes," Renee said.
"What would you do if your son started dating a witch again?" the male reporter asked, working hard to keep his face neutral and the laughter to a minimum.
"I'd have no choice. I'd have to kill her."
A man's voice cut loudly through the people who were lining the path to COMHA's doors, trying to get seen on television. "Out of my way," he shouted, irritation evident in the way he pushed past people, shoving them out of the way like they were used Kleenex. He stopped in front of the cameras, in front of her.
"Dean Lampton," Renee said, pursing her lips.
"Mrs. Tellinger," Dean said through gritted teeth. "I kindly ask that you remove your little group from our front lawn."
"We have a right to be here," Renee said, squaring off her shoulders.
A camera flashed and Dean's face immediately lit up into a politician's smile. He turned away from her and toward the cameras. "My company, Plungers, Inc, employs nearly fifty thousand workers here in Florida."
"That sounds like a lot of plungers," the male reporter said.
"We've expanded; we now make toilet bowl brushes as well." He grinned as he said this and everyone seemed to eat it up. "We don't know why we have become the target of Mothers Against Paranormal Predators—"
"Because you’re paranormal and you're predators!" Bebe shouted to cheers of "Here! Here!" from the rest of MAPP.
Dean continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"—but I assure you that we are no more magical than... than the cereal manufacturer next door." He nodded in the direction of a ten-story office building on the other side of Plungers, Inc. "Our main warehouses and manufacturing centers are not far from here. If any of you would like a tour of our new plunging facilities, I'm more than happy to show you. We have new, workable test toilets in our warehouses so that we can ensure quality control. We simply have our employees do their business as usual usin
g the test toilets, and then we check to see how our plungers and brushes stand up to everything."
Several people made faces. The female reporter's eyebrows drew together. "Ew," she said.
"Well, it's not a pretty job but someone's got to do it," Dean said. "Now, who would like a tour? You can try out the plungers for yourselves."
When no one accepted Dean's invitation, he turned and looked at Renee triumphantly.
"You may fool these people," Renee shouted, "but MAPP's members know better. You are nothing but... but..." She looked desperately around as the crowd began to disperse, tired of toilet talk. Without the crowd, the reporters seemed less interested. Or maybe they were just worried that Dean would keep inviting them to plunge some toilets. They were turning away.