Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1 - 12

by Susan Harper

  “I don’t know,” Monica said. “Maybe someone who is trying to get to the other side? A monster of some sort trying to escape Wysteria?”

  “That’s not good,” Mona said as they landed suddenly in front of the store. “If someone is trying to leave through the portal without permission… This is bad. We’re in charge of that portal.”

  It didn’t look like anyone had forced their way in, but they could certainly hear noise from inside. “Harpies?” Monica suggested, knowing it was harpy season after the one that had made its way into her mini fridge. It would certainly be better than someone trying to break in to use the portal to Bankstown. “Did you maybe leave some food out? You know how they like to steal people’s food.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Mona said, hearing several crashes inside. “Could be more miniature trolls.”

  Then they heard the clear, distinct sound of a woman shouting. The two witches hurried through the front door. With the wave of her wand, Mona turned on all the lights—candles lighting themselves and lanterns flickering on. The newfound light revealed a rather troubling scene.

  “Help me!” Holly shouted as she ran between two bookshelves, chased by flying books. “Ah!” she yelped as one appeared to bite down on her ponytail. It caused her to fall back, and she and several books toppled over one another. Holly kicked one of the books, sending it flying across the room. This only angered the entire history section, and several more books came flying off their shelves to chase after a distraught Holly.

  “Get off! Get off!” Holly screamed, running straight into Monica and Mona.

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Abigail said under her breath, darting behind the counter to avoid Holly.

  Mona pulled out her wand, and all off the books scurried back to their proper places before she even had to threaten them with a spell. Monica wished enchanted objects were that afraid of her. Monica’s eyes went from the books that had fluttered away fearfully to Holly, now standing with her mouth gaping open at the two of them—particularly at Mona, who looked quite bewitching standing there with her wand out and decked out in her black ballgown. “Holly!” Monica wailed, hardly able to believe that Holly had somehow managed to slip past the spell she had put on the back room to avoid mortal detection. Silently, she scolded herself. Her spells were not usually very good, but she had been confident about this one. She was beginning to feel that perhaps she should not have had so much confidence in her ability. “What are you doing here?” Monica asked.

  Holly’s eyes widened. “What am I doing here? Where is here!?”

  This wasn’t good. A mortal had found her way to mystic world.

  4

  Holly was now staring out the window as various sorts of creatures walked up and down the sidewalk. Wysteria was particularly busy during the night of the full moon when everyone’s abilities were at their peak, so of course this would be the night a mortal somehow managed to wander through the portal. “What…what is this place?” Holly asked, still staring out the door.

  “Perfect! This is just perfect,” Abigail said from the countertop, causing Holly to jump.

  “Seriously, Abs?” Monica asked, shaking her head at Abigail for not keeping her mouth shut.

  Holly spun around, staring at both sisters. “So…you must be Mona?” she asked. Mona had put her wand away at this point, and she was standing with her arms crossed and a dissatisfied look on her face.

  “Holly, why are you here?” Monica asked yet again.

  “I realized I had left my phone at the shop. I came back to get it, and I saw that we had left the broom and dustpan out…so I went to put it in the closet…and, well, poof. Here I am,” Holly said, shaking her head a bit. “What are you two supposed to be? Was that… Was that some sort of magic wand?” she asked, looking directly at Mona again.

  Mona did truly look the part tonight. Her black hair and black dress along with those slightly purple eyes made her look like something straight out of a mortal fairytale on witches. “Monica, I thought you said you put a spell on the door to keep mortals out,” Mona hissed.

  “I did!” Monica said. “But, it must have…faded or something.”

  “We are going to be late for Uncle Drac’s party,” Mona said. She pulled out her wand again, pointed it right at Holly, and said, “Memoria culpa!”

  Holly jerked slightly, and she seemed to enter a sort of sleep-deprived zombie state. Her eyes drooped, and her mouth hung open. “What did you do!?” Monica questioned.

  “It’s just a little memory charm,” Mona assured her. “Let’s just get her home and put her to bed, and she’ll forget all about this in the morning.”

  Monica grumbled to herself about Mona using a spell on her friend, but she supposed there wasn’t much else they could do. Holly’s current behavior was very similar to the way she had seen mortals act late at night in the Bankstown pub after having one too many. She kept swaying and occasionally mumbling something. “Okay, Holly, let’s get you home,” Monica said, and she and Mona each took one of Holly’s arms, leading her back through the door. Monica snatched up Holly’s phone, and the three of them made their way through the streets of Bankstown.

  Mona looked around curiously as they walked. “Awfully plain, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “You’re here in the middle of the night on a weeknight,” Monica said. “The place is really bustling on the weekends.”

  It took them a while to get out of Holly where it was she lived; Monica hadn’t known her for that long, so she had yet to visit the woman’s home. Eventually, they arrived outside of an apartment building. Monica checked Holly’s pocket for keys, and they eventually found the right one. Once inside, Monica and Mona were able to lead the poor woman to her bed and lay her down for the night. “Okay, you’re sure she’ll be fine?” Monica asked.

  Mona nodded. “She’ll be all right. Just got to sleep it off. Come tomorrow, she won’t remember what happened.”

  Monica reluctantly closed the bedroom door. She took a gander around at Holly’s beautifully-decorated apartment. On the wall near the foyer, she noticed a nail in the wall along with slightly faded paint, suggesting that she had recently taken a photo down. Glancing behind her, she saw the frame sitting face down on the kitchen counter and decided to take a peek. It was a photograph of a smiling Holly along with a handsome young man whom Monica had never met.

  “Who’s that?” Mona asked.

  “I’m not sure…” Monica said, placing the photo back down. “Maybe an old boyfriend?”

  “Well, I think that’s enough snooping around, don’t you think?” Mona suggested. “Abigail and Lenore are waiting back at my side of the shop, and I want to get to that party!”

  Monica smiled, and the sisters hurried out of the apartment. When they arrived back at the shop, Mona took a moment to redo the spell Monica had put on the door to keep mortals out—just in case. When they passed through, they were greeted by a rather impatient Abigail. “About time!” Abigail huffed. “Can we please get going?”

  The sisters rolled their eyes and headed out, mounting their brooms, eager to get to the party. Soon they were landing out front of Bran Castle where a number of mystics were still making their way inside.

  Once inside, Monica was thrilled to hear the live band playing some beautifully ghoulish sounds, and everyone was dancing. Their familiars seemed to dip out, likely finding a group of other familiars to mingle with. There were some werewolves in the corner swaying a bit, glad to have been invited despite the full moon. Mostly, though, the party was full of vampires. “Darlings!” a familiar voice called, and the girls spun around to see a curvy older witch with jet black hair and sparkling purple eyes much like Mona’s.

  “Aunt Wilma!” both girls called out at once, scurrying over.

  The woman wrapped her arms around both of their necks, squeezing them tight. “Girls, I want you to meet Penelope.” Wilma waved her arm to a perky young witch behind her.

  “Oh, you and I have met! You we
re in the bookshop earlier today,” Mona said.

  Penelope smiled. “Your aunt was telling me how you two have taken over Back Room Books.” Her eyes turned to Monica. “You’ll have to tell me what it’s like working up close with mortals. Sounds fascinating.”

  “Oh, it is!” Monica said. “How is it you two know each other?”

  Wilma laughed. “Another one of your Uncle Drac’s former flings, apparently. He introduced us earlier tonight, and we hit it off picking fun at the poor old vampire.”

  “Very briefly lived, I assure you,” Penelope laughed. “Drac is quite charming, what can I say, but I prefer being with someone born in the same century as myself. Vampires…very complicated dating partners, ladies, take note.”

  Monica and Mona both laughed. “I think I’m going to go get some brew from the table. Anyone else?” Wilma asked, and all three witches nodded. “I’ll be back, ladies! If I see Drac, I’ll let him know you girls are here. He was looking for you earlier.” Wilma hurried off, leaving the twins to get to know Penelope a bit.

  “So, how is it you wound up with Uncle Drac?” Mona asked.

  “Bumped into him at the Cookey Cauldron,” she said. “Dated for a bit, but eventually decided we were better off friends.” Penelope’s eyes lingered toward a group of centaurs. She snickered slightly. “Look, an onocentaur,” she said.

  Monica turned to see a very short centaur-looking gentleman standing amongst the centaurs. “Onocentaur?” Monica asked as she had never heard the term.

  “Bottom half is a donkey,” Penelope said. “Don’t usually see onocentaurs at things like this. Sort of the bottom of the social ladder in the centaur community. I think I heard them say his name was Max earlier.”

  Monica suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable by Penelope’s upturned nose. “Were you talking to him earlier?” Monica asked.

  “He was trying to talk to me,” she said. “But, thankfully, I was able to slip off.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mona said, uninterested. It seemed she felt similarly about Penelope’s judgmental behavior.

  “You!” a voice boomed, and the three witches spun to see a woman in a stunning red ballgown stomping forward. By her serpent-like eyes and the slight steam coming from her nostrils, Monica immediately pegged her as a dragon shapeshifter.

  “Oh no, not this again,” Penelope muttered.

  The woman stopped right in front of them. “Penelope!” the woman snarled.

  “Lauralet, I’ve already told you—go pester someone else,” Penelope insisted.

  “Not until you admit you stole from my keep!” the shapeshifter, Lauralet, snarled.

  “I won’t because I didn’t, you paranoid serpent!” Penelope snapped right back.

  Monica and Mona both felt quite uncomfortable standing near Penelope while she was being confronted by a shapeshifting dragon. Thankfully, though, the confrontation was quickly put to an end. A man dressed in a suit with slightly pointed ears and crooked teeth put himself between the two women. He held a tray in his hand. “Miss Lauralet, the count wishes to see you,” he said.

  Lauralet scowled at the man. “And why would he want to see me?” she demanded, a flicker of a flame spewing from her mouth.

  “Something about you harassing his guests,” the man said. “I do suggest you go lest he ask you to leave.”

  Lauralet glared in Penelope’s direction before spinning on her heels and storming off, practically pushing Monica and Mona as she left. “What was that about?” Mona asked.

  “Don’t mind Lauralet,” the man said, turning to Penelope. “Are you all right, Miss Penelope?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, Renfield,” Penelope said. “I swear, I had nothing to do with what went missing from her hoard. I was just in the area that day.”

  “Don’t mind Lauralet,” Renfield repeated. “She’s been harassing a handful of others tonight as well. The count is close to throwing her out.”

  “Girls, do you know Renfield?” Penelope asked just as Wilma was returning with their brews. She passed each of them a glass.

  “No, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Monica said.

  “Been working for the count for a few years now,” Renfield said. “Mostly with keeping his castle in order. I’m really just a glorified butler.”

  Penelope laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short, Renfield. Renfield here organizes most of your uncle’s affairs these days. He’s a changeling—retired from that, now, thank heavens.”

  Monica had not personally ever met a changeling. Most mystics in her circles tended to stay away from the fae, as they were rather cruel tricksters. The fae had a reputation for stealing mortal children and replacing them with young fae known as changelings who could appear as the stolen mortal’s child. “You say you’ve retired from that?” Mona asked somewhat anxiously.

  “I know that tone of voice,” Renfield said with a wink. “Many centuries ago. I’ve been here on this side ever since. I know the fae are not the most morally sound group, but you must understand we changelings are just children when our fae parents switch us out with mortal children to do their bidding in the mortal world. Most of us these days have turned from the old fae ways. I would much rather be on this side of the realms amongst other mystics than harassing mortals and tricking them into contractual agreements for the fae.” Renfield turned to Penelope. “And, Miss Penelope, if you would just refer to me as a fae in the future and not announce to everyone my changeling nature, I would be most grateful. Most have a sour taste in their mouth about that sort of thing.”

  “You’re doing a fine job, Renfield,” Wilma assured him. “Now, Penelope, if you don’t mind coming with me, I’ve got to introduce you to my friend Max. He’s an onocentaur!”

  Monica and Mona both saw Penelope’s displeased expression as Wilma dragged her off to speak with the onocentaur she had been rude to earlier. “Well, I don’t like her,” Monica said plainly once they were out of earshot.

  “Same,” Mona said. “But, you know Aunt Wilma. She loves everybody.”

  The sisters made their way to the dance floor where their Uncle Drac was mingling. He smiled and danced with them for a bit before hurrying off to take care of something that demanded his attention. Monica and Mona remained on the dance floor, enjoying the rhythm of the ghoulish band Dracula had hired for the evening. They danced late into the night, and it seemed to be turning out to be a rather fun evening, until a loud scream came from down one of the halls.

  The next thing Monica knew, the local authorities were arriving on scene, and after only interviewing a handful of people, they were putting silver chains around Dracula’s wrists. “Uncle Drac! What’s going on!?” Monica called out as the men in uniform ushered Drac out of the castle.

  Wilma found them amongst the crowd of onlookers, her face pale in fright. “It’s Penelope,” she said. “She was found dead…bite marks on her neck… Your uncle was last seen with her.”

  Monica’s stomach dropped as she watched Uncle Drac being carted off under the accusation of murdering a witch.

  5

  The next morning, Monica headed to Back Room Books feeling absolutely exhausted. She, along with Aunt Wilma and Mona, had spent most of the night at the Wysteria jail trying to figure out how Dracula had gotten accused of murder. He was being kept in a cell made of silver, one of the only ways to properly detain a vampire, and it was making him rather sick. As she and Abigail walked into work that morning, Monica felt nauseated at the thought of going about her day pretending that everything was okay when her Uncle Drac was sitting in a prison cell.

  Surely, thinking back on that evening, there were a number of others who could have hurt Penelope. True, Penelope did have bitemarks on the neck, so it was likely another vampire—and she was found in one of the back rooms that most would not have had access to—but could that really mean Uncle Drac was the only suspect the authorities felt the need to cart off to jail?

  Monica entered the shop, Abigail on her heels. “What are we going to do?�
�� Abigail asked, and Monica quickly looked around to see if Holly was anywhere near.

  “You need to be careful. Holly could have been here,” Monica scolded. “You know she gets here early.”

  “Not after a memory charm,” Abigail said with a slight laugh. “Makes mortals really dizzy like they’re hungover or something. She’s going to be very late.”

  Monica rolled her eyes and began starting up the coffee machines. “I don’t know what to do,” Monica admitted. “I feel like I should be in Wysteria right now doing whatever I can to help Uncle Drac, but I’ve got to maintain appearances here.”

  “Well, we can leave Holly to it once she gets here and go see what we can do to help then,” Abigail suggested.

  “You just want to avoid Bankstown as much as possible,” Monica said.

  Abigail hissed up at her. “Believe it or not, Monica, I am concerned for your Uncle Drac as well. He and I were well acquainted back in the day.”

  “Please don’t tell me you were another one of Uncle Drac’s former flings,” Monica groaned.

  “Of course not!” Abigail said. “Just friends until…well…meow.”

  “You did it to yourself,” Monica insisted.

  “I’d rather not get into this again,” Abigail said.

  The front door opened as Monica was finishing up with the coffee. It was Officer Brian. “Morning!” he called, excitedly making his way toward her. “How you been?”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Monica admitted.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said as Monica got to work on his usual.

  A thought suddenly occurred to her that she had a very good resource for helping her Uncle Drac standing right in front of her. A cop. “Hey, Brian, could I ask you something?”

  “Sure?” He took his coffee from her.

  “How would you go about solving a homicide case?” she asked.