by Lucia Ashta
Magical Mayhem
Witches of Gales Haven ~ Book Two
Lucía Ashta
Magical Mayhem
Witches of Gales Haven ~ Book Two
Copyright © 2020 by Lucía Ashta
www.LuciaAshta.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Sanja Balan of Sanja’s Covers
Editing by Ocean’s Edge Editing
Proofreading by Geesey Editorial Services
ASIN B08682Q4LL
Version 2020.05.15
About Magical Mayhem
Marla figured returning to her small hometown would be the start of a simple life—albeit one with magic.
She figured wrong.
Magic was part of the deal, but the new role assigned to her wasn’t. What does she know about detecting?
Nothing at all, a fact made plainly obvious during her first day on the job.
What do a foul-mouthed leprechaun and Spanx have in common? Marla is about to find out...
For my readers.
You are the very best.
xox
“Life is meant to be lived. The more outrageously, the better.”
Bessie “Nan” Gawama
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
Thanks for Reading
Books by Lucía Ashta
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
“Are you gonna finish that?”
I jumped, squealing, my heart hammering in my chest until I discovered the source of the tiny voice. Humphrey. “Dammit, Humphrey, I told you not to sneak up on me like that.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I can’t help that I’m small and you’re as distractible as my cousin Basil, and he’s distracted by everything. He’s pretty stupid.”
I blinked at the small mouse as he eyed the rest of the bread on my plate. It was home-baked, and delicious of course. Now that my kids and I had officially moved into Gawama Mama House, we were enjoying Aunt Jowelle’s cooking three times a day, plus snacks. It was bliss, and my waistband was stretched thanks to my regular indulgence. I’d have to go see Mo Ellen sooner rather than later for the spell that would allow me to eat all I wanted without gaining an ounce.
It’d be a dream come true, literally. I’d daydreamed about the concept of being able to down gallons of ice cream and not worry about what I was doing to my body. At forty-four, I still felt great, but let’s be real, if I didn’t treat my body right, I paid the price. My body was like a loan shark with a bloodied baseball bat, exacting a high cost for any transgression, with a vast arsenal of aches and pains to draw on.
My vision blurred as my eyes misted. So much good had happened since we’d returned to Gales Haven a week ago. I would have never guessed it. My family had mostly forgiven me for ditching them as my mother had. It made all the difference that I’d eventually returned when she hadn’t, when she most likely never would. My aunts and nan had taken my kids under their wing, and for the first time in my children’s lives I experienced the verity of the adage: It takes a village to raise a child.
All the weight of their well-being had been squarely on my shoulders for so long, it was a great relief to share it. Also, it was weird, really weird. I felt lighter than I had in ages.
And then there was Quade, my first love. I hadn’t given a single thought to what it would be like to return to Gales Haven and find him here—and I’m only fibbing a little bit. He’d surprised me more than anyone else, the way he forgave me for running away all those years ago. I had no idea what would become of us now. I knew only that whatever spark was between us was just as combustible as it’d been nineteen years before.
Scurrying dragged my attention away from my thoughts.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I scolded.
Humphrey looked up from where he was bent over my plate, the china as old as the house, his front paws wrapped around a chunk of my delicious sourdough bread. He didn’t bother to look remorseful, just smug, or as smug-looking as a mouse could get. It was his usual look.
He stared at me for a moment, then shrugged. “You can’t blame me. You were staring off into the distance like you’re in some kind of romance novel dreaming about your hunky man.” He kept gnawing.
“How would you know a thing about romance novels?”
His head yanked back in affront. “Just because my cousin Basil is stupid…” He paused to give me a long look that suggested he was in the midst of associating me with Basil’s ineptitude. “Doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I read to get my exercise.”
When I blinked at him again, he huffed, throwing his paws in the air in a very human gesture, dropping his bread—wait, my bread. “I’m little,” he dragged out, eyeing me like he was waiting for me to catch up.
“Yeah, duh. I have two working eyes, ya know.”
“It’s the working everything else that I’m worried about.”
My nostrils flared. “Hey,” I snapped. Between him and Mindy the hedgehog… “Watch it, mister.”
“So you get it, then?”
“Get what?”
He groaned and tossed his head back theatrically, giving me a view of the bottom of his snout, tipped in a tiny nose. “What we’re talking about! Do you get how reading is exercise for a small magical creature like me?”
“Oh.” I smiled. “Because you have to run along the pages to read the lines?”
“Bingo.” He picked my bread back up. “So I get my exercise and learn at the same time. Those romance novels your Aunt Luanne reads sure are educational.”
“I’ll just bet they are.”
“You’d win that bet.” He chomped down on my bread, fresh from the oven this morning, dammit. “I mean, I can only learn so much about how to pleasure my woman since I have such a different body from those half-naked men on the covers.”
I choked.
He ignored me.
“But I’m still picking up some great pointers. My lady friend doesn’t mind a bit. In fact, she’s asked me to read lots more.”
I swallowed thickly. “Oh-kay. That’s about enough of that.”
“Fine. Can I have all this bread, then?” His little beady eyes were wide with greed.
“You don’t actually think I’m going to eat it now that you’ve been all over it and my plate, do you?”
He shrugged those diminutive shoulders of his that were probably no more than an inch across. “Waste not, want not, my grandmama always used to say. Smart woman.”
“What I need you to do is ask before you eat my food. I thought I was clear about that before.”
He waved a paw at me, dismissing what I said before I even finished speaking.
“Humphrey. I mean it.”
“It’s Hugh, not Humphrey, remember? Or did you forget already?” He took another bite. “Basil can never remember what I tell him for more than a minute or two…”
“Humphrey is your given name.”
“And I told you I don’t like it.”
I smiled evilly at him. “Don’t eat my food without asking and I won’t call you Humphrey, Humphrey.”
He squinted at me. “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, is it? I thought we were friends.”
“We’re not friends. I only just met you a week ago, and all you do is sneak up on me, eat my food, and tell me I’m stupid.”
“And…?”
“And—”
“Who are you talking to out there?” My Aunt Jowelle’s voice carried through the screen door. “It’s not that disgusting mouse again, is it?”
“Promise me you won’t eat my food without asking,” I told Humphrey, “and I won’t rat you out.” I chuckled. “I didn’t even mean that pun.”
“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I’m not a rat. I’m nothing like a rat.”
“You’re quite a lot like a rat, actually.”
His little jaw dropped open, exposing a mouthful of bread. “Take. That. Back.”
“Marla?” Aunt Jowelle was moving toward the front door.
I arched my brows at the mouse. “Promise,” I mouthed.
“Take it back,” he said.
“Marla Gawama?” Aunt Jowelle asked, pushing the door open.
I turned to her. “I’m here.”
“I can see that plainly. So why weren’t you answering me?”
“Sorry, Aunt Jowelle. I was in the middle of something.”
“As long as you weren’t in the middle of feeding that mouse my food.”
I whipped around, but Humphrey was nowhere to be found. Sneaky devil…
“Are you finished with your breakfast?” Aunt Jowelle asked. “Nan’s going to meet with the council, and she figured you might like to come along with us since you had so much to do with repairing the barrier spell.”
The barrier spell protected the entire town of Gales Haven and its magical residents by powering a large dome that allowed only those who possessed magic to enter. It was the foundation of the town, established in 1803, and my daughter Macy’s disruptive magic had almost broken it.
It was all fixed now.
Or, rather, it had been repaired for a fast minute until Quade’s mother, Delise, hooked her magic into it.
Since Delise’s magic seemed not to be further encroaching on the barrier spell, the council allowed it some time to stabilize after all that had been done to it recently. But for the last day, the council had been working with Everleigh and Kama, the most skilled of Gales Haven’s spell weavers, to remove Delise’s magic from where it had latched on to the original spell’s threads. Everleigh, Kama, and the rest of the spell weavers they led, hadn’t been having much luck. Apparently, Delise’s magic, hooked soundly into the spell, was resisting their intervention. The more Delise’s magic withstood them, the more cautious they became. The barrier spell was essential to the town’s survival. Every risk to its integrity had to be minimized.
I looked up at Aunt Jowelle. Like me and all the Gawamas—except for my daughter Macy—she had flaming red hair, a fiery temper, and magic. “Has there been any word on Delise yet? Or Maguire?”
“No.” My aunt’s lips pursed in concern. “Not yet. No sign of Irma either.”
Irma Lamont was one of the five council members. When it became apparent that Delise Contonn meant to weasel her way into ruling the town, Irma grabbed her and transported away. We’d expected her to return with Delise soon, but she hadn’t. And Maguire, who was both Delise’s husband and lapdog, had disappeared immediately after Nan told him he had to choose sides: the town or his cray-cray wife.
There hadn’t been a sign of him since, and he didn’t even have transporting magic like Irma did. As far as anyone knew, all he did was obey Delise’s commands. But he had to have some sort of magic or he wouldn’t be allowed to live in town, much less leave it on shopping trips and return again.
“What magic does Maguire have?” I asked Aunt Jowelle.
“Huh,” she squeaked, and she never squeaked. “I guess I don’t really know. I must’ve known at one point, but I don’t remember.”
If Maguire Contonn was one thing, he was forgettable. When he married Delise, he took her surname instead of her taking his because her family had the greater magical reputation. That set the tone for the rest of their long marriage. Maguire faded into Delise’s shadow until no one considered him without her.
“I’ll ask Nan to get the Registry again,” I said.
“That’s a good idea. Who knew you’d be so good at solving our problems?”
My heart warmed at her praise; she was stingy with it. It swept away Humphrey’s comments like a wave.
The Complete Registry of the Magical Powers and Abilities of the Residents of the Great Town of Gales Haven was a mouthful of antiquated flourishes. It had been around since the town’s founding, recording the magical abilities of every single resident. It wouldn’t have forgotten Maguire.
I stood from the wicker chair I’d been lounging in while admiring the forest that surrounded Gawama Mama House. Now that Grandpa Oscar was gone, Quade used his prowess with nature to maintain it, and out here on the porch I felt connected to him. The serenity of the plants Quade coaxed into perfect health soothed me like a balm to the soul, gradually erasing all the wrongs my ex-husband had done to me—though it hadn’t been entirely his fault; I was at fault too for letting him walk all over me. I should have ripped off his ding-dong when I discovered he was almost certainly cheating on me. I cringed. The imagery was disgusting. No way could I have done that.
“Marla?” Jowelle said more gently than was usually her way. My three aunts and grandmother understood that I was processing and healing. I was like a wounded animal, licking my injuries and remembering my strength.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to do a treatment on you?”
I smiled gratefully at her while grabbing my plate and empty coffee cup. “It’s a nice offer, but I don’t want you to magically heal my heart.” Really I did, but… “It’s something I need to do myself.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Thanks, Aunt Jowelle. I really do appreciate it.”
She patted me on the back. “Just as long as you remember now that you’re home, you don’t have to go it all alone. You’ve got us.”
Tears stung the back of my eyeballs, and I swallowed a groan. My emotions were always close to the surface. If I were like this now, I didn’t even want to think about what I’d be like when menopause hit. I was going to be a basket case!
Nodding silently so my voice wouldn’t crack, I stepped into the house, my aunt right behind me. As soon as we entered the kitchen—her domain—she tried to take the plate from me. I held on.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ll wash it.”
“It’s okay. I’ll wash it.”
“You love it when you get out of cleaning.”
Fact. Cleaning was the pits. There were always better things to do, like sitting around doing nothing.
“But you do all the cooking. I should clean,” I said before I could regret what kind of example I was setting for the future.
She tugged at my plate. I held on, slipped out of her grip, and rushed to the sink, where I poured half a cup of detergent on the porcelain dish and began to scrub like it was my fave thing to do ever.
Aunt Jowelle tracked me like a panther, silent and menacing. Her presence settled directly behind me. “You fed that mouse from your plate again, didn’t you?”
I didn’t say anything, scrubbing away Humphrey’s mouse cooties.
Aunt Jowelle swung around to my side, getting right up in my space.<
br />
From the dining table, my Aunt Luanne chuckled. “Breakfast and live entertainment.”
“Can’t ask for more than that, especially when it’s Jo’s cooking,” Aunt Shawna added.
I didn’t look their way. You’re never supposed to look away from a predator when she’s staring you down, right?
Jowelle whipped the plate and scrub brush out of my hand while slinging her hip into mine, butting me out of the way. “If that mouse ate from our heirloom china, then it’s going to need more disinfecting than that. The brush too. Maybe even the sink.” She peered down at the sink suspiciously, even though I hadn’t put the plate down.
With a flick of her hand, the plate flew out of it to hover directly beneath the stream of water.
“That is so awesome,” my son Clyde said from the table. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all this magic. It’s amazing.”
Though both my kids had been exposed to magic non-stop since our arrival in town a week ago, neither Clyde nor Macy had lost that wide-eyed awe. I hoped they never did. I preferred their wonder to their constant snark any day.
Steam began to rise off the jet of water while the cabinet beneath the sink slammed open, hitting me in the leg.
I grunted while a bottle of bleach floated out and up.
“You might want to step back.” Aunt Jowelle was fierce, her attention firmly on the job at hand.
I put my hands up in surrender and backed away to the table. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“My way wouldn’t involve a rodent eating off of our fine china.”
“You act as if I tell him to do it.” I slumped into an open chair between Macy and Clyde. Everyone was at the table except for my nan. “He just does it. He doesn’t ask. I’ve told him not to.”