Men Love Witches
A Beechwood Harbor Magic Mystery
Danielle Garrett
Copyright © 2021 by Danielle Garrett
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Contents
Books By Danielle Garrett
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
Epilogue
Also by Danielle Garrett
Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries
Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries
A Touch of Magic Mysteries
Haven Paranormal Romances
Sugar Shack Witch Mysteries
About the Author
Books By Danielle Garrett
BEECHWOOD HARBOR MAGIC MYSTERIES
Murder’s a Witch
Twice the Witch
Witch Slapped
Witch Way Home
Along Came a Ghost
Lucky Witch
Betwixt: A Beechwood Harbor Collection
One Bad Witch
A Royal Witch
First Place Witch
Sassy Witch
The Witch Is Inn
Men Love Witches
Goodbye’s a Witch
* * *
BEECHWOOR HARBOR GHOST MYSTERIES
* * *
The Ghost Hunter Next Door
Ghosts Gone Wild
When Good Ghosts Get the Blues
Big Ghosts Don’t Cry
Diamonds are a Ghost’s Best Friend
Ghosts Just Wanna Have Fun
Bad Ghosts Club
* * *
SUGAR SHACK WITCH MYSTERIES
* * *
Sprinkles and Sea Serpents
Grimoires and Gingerbread
Mermaids and Meringue
Hexes and Honey Buns
* * *
HAVEN PARANORMAL ROMANCES
* * *
Once Upon a Hallow’s Eve
* * *
A TOUCH OF MAGIC MYSTERIES
* * *
Cupid in a Bottle
Newly Wed and Slightly Dead
Couture and Curses
Wedding Bells and Deadly Spells
Chapter One
When the day starts with a demon-possessed toaster, it can only go uphill from there.
I hoped.
Okay, technically the toaster wasn’t possessed, but as it bounced along the countertop, belching burned crumbs and bits of old crust into the air, it sure looked the part. Wincing, I turned to the petite blonde sitting at my dining room table, her dark doe eyes wide with alarm. “Sage, are you sure there’s nothing you can do?” I asked.
“I’m really sorry,” she squeaked, watching with horror as the toaster leaped from the counter, did a spin in midair, then crashed to the tile floor with an ear-ringing clang. Sage cringed. “Sometimes, when I’m worked up about something, this just kind of … happens.”
Boots, my orange tabby cat familiar, hissed and arched his back as the toaster skittered across the floor toward him.
“Tell you what,” I said, whipping around to face the stove. “I’ll make you some of my special tea. That always helps me relax when my nerves are frayed.”
“Um … okay,” Sage replied, though she didn’t sound convinced. “I should warn you though, I’ve seen a lot of healers about this, and none of them could fix it.”
“Well, as long as your brain doesn’t hijack any of the kitchen knives, we should be okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice sunny. The young woman was already at her wit’s end—evidenced by the out-of-control toaster cruising around my kitchen. Pointing out that the chrome appliance had cost upwards of two hundred dollars wouldn’t help. Somehow, I didn’t think that telekinetic possession would be covered under the manufacturer’s limited warranty.
“Do you think maybe this is just prewedding jitters?” I asked as I put the kettle on to heat up.
Boots thumped the toaster with one flash of his paw, then jumped up onto a kitchen chair to unleash a fierce growl.
“It’s okay, Bootsie. Just leave it alone,” I told him.
He shot me a disgruntled look, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether or not I could see the once-inanimate object racing in circles on the floor.
“I’m excited about the wedding,” Sage told me, her voice a little thin.
The toaster jammed its plug into an outlet and sent a shower of sparks up as it yanked it back. One of the sparks caught on the corner of the light-filtering curtains hung along the glass doors leading out of the kitchen. “Oh!” I yelped, racing toward the small flame with a dish towel.
Sage began to sob. “I’m so sorry!” she wailed.
This only further aggravated the toaster, which momentarily seemed connected to the young bride-to-be’s emotions. The more upset she became, the more wildly the toaster would buck and belch. I got the flames put out—though the filmy curtains would need replacing—and hurried to comfort the bride.
Her two bridesmaids had already left, following the trio’s relaxing weekend at the Beechwood Inn, my home and place of business. We’d begun hosting supernatural bridal parties earlier in the year and had a full calendar through most of the summer. For the most part, things had gone off without a hitch. Sure, there’d been a few drunken antics, a handful of bridezilla moments, and one full-on meltdown when an unfortunate bride found explicit photos of her own fiancé on her maid of honor’s—or, rather dishonor’s— phone. The worst part was that the pair both had water magic, and the entire inn had required a thorough cleaning to remove the excess water before the wood floors warped.
“Jerry should be here soon to get me,” Sage continued, still crying. “Once I’m gone, things should go back to normal.”
“Should?” I said, wiping one strand of my auburn hair from my face as I straightened.
Sage hiccupped. Her fair skin was blotchy from crying, her eyes rimmed with red. “Most of the time, it does. Once I get far enough away. One time, I accidentally took control of an entire fleet of antique model airplanes. Jerry’s really into flying. Anyway, these model airplanes all came diving at us. It was like something out of that old horror movie, with all the birds.”
My brows lifted at the visual image. “Yikes. You know it’s a bad day when you find yourself in a Hitchcock film come true,” I said.
Sage swiped at her tear-stained cheeks. “It was a nightmare. The Supernatural Protection Agency had to come in and mind-wipe everyone.”
I hurried to get her the tea and set a generous-sized mug in front of her. “Here, drink up. This should help.”
Not soon enough, though. Across the room, the toaster rammed into one of the glass doors leading to the ba
ckyard. Almost as if in a fit of frustration, it sent up a volcano of burned crumbs—which, I supposed, served me right for not cleaning the tray in who knows how long.
Carefully, I went to the closet and retrieved the broom. Taking a sidestep, I removed the lid from the silver garbage can beside the fridge and lowered it to its side. Boots growled as I crept closer to the out-of-control appliance. Cringing, I swung the broom down and whacked the toaster as though it were an overgrown spider. It took three hits, but finally the thing stopped moving.
“Uh, gorgeous?”
Straightening, I whipped around to see my own fiancé, the one and only Adam St. James, standing at the kitchen door, having just witnessed me beating the ever-loving gears out of our toaster. “Everything’s fine,” I said, flashing a sheepish grin as I hid the broom behind my back.
“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, shooting a tentative glance toward Sage.
She winced as she twinkled her fingers. “Sorry about the toaster. I can pay for a replacement.”
Before he could ask, the battered pieces of toaster shuddered and twitched. Jolting, I hurried to sweep them into the trash can and jerked it upright before slamming the lid on tight. Apparently, the toaster didn’t like that, because the can started rumbling.
“Better drink up!” I said, flashing a nervous smile.
After a dose of my tension-taming tea, Sage calmed down and the garbage stopped shaking. We even managed to get her under-eye smudges cleaned up before her fiancé arrived to pick her up.
“Please, let me write you a check for the toaster,” she said, standing on the front porch, her fiancé’s arm wrapped around her narrow shoulders.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, waving a hand.
“You’re sure?” she asked.
“Definitely,” Adam replied, coming to stand beside me. “You two just worry about your big day.”
The pair of lovebirds exchanged a smile.
“Thanks again, for everything,” Sage said, looking back at me. “You two have a beautiful inn. We’ll definitely be telling all of our friends about this place!”
Jerry, Sage’s fiancé, smiled. “We’ll have to come back and stay sometime for a weekend, just the two of us.”
“We’d love to have you,” I told him.
We exchanged goodbyes and sent the pair on their way. The two locked their fingers together as they walked down the front path.
“I think those two crazy kids have a real shot,” Adam said as he closed the front door. “Twenty bucks says they make it?”
I smacked him on the arm. “You have to stop placing bets on our clients!”
“Why?” He chuckled. “It’s fun. Harmony said that Anastasia and all her wedding planner friends do the same thing.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to go back to the kitchen. “You know, for such a marshmallowy romantic, you’ve sure got a cynical side.”
Adam followed after me. “Oh, come on, Holly. After some of the couples we’ve had in here these last few months? You really think they’re all bound for happily ever after?”
Grimacing, I pushed against the swinging door that led into the kitchen. He had a point. Still … it felt wrong to be so blasé about the whole thing, even if meant in fun.
“Then again, looks like Lacey managed to get herself to the altar, and he’s even stuck around for, what, two years now?” Adam continued as he followed me into the kitchen. He immediately went to the pantry cupboards and started rooting around for a snack.
“Speaking of,” I said, pouring myself a cup of tea with the still-hot water in the kettle, “you have to promise to be nice while she’s here. She’s not coming to stay as Lacey, our ex-roommate, she’s coming as Lady Vaughn-Hartford of the Eastern Court of Vampires.”
Adam chuckled as he tore open a box of crackers.
I arched an eyebrow.
Scoffing, he dug into the box and pulled out a handful of little orange squares. “I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“She didn’t have to choose our inn for her meeting, you know,” I added.
He nodded and popped a few crackers into his mouth. “Come on, gorgeous, I said I’ll be good. What do you want? A blood oath?”
“Might not be a bad idea,” I mumbled before taking a sip of tea.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Evangeline Loren hurried into the kitchen. She looked ready to go to work in a pair of wide-leg gray slacks and a sleeveless silk top with a ruffle detail where the fabric wrapped around her neck. Evangeline ran a popular day spa in town, and with tourist season in full swing, she was busy as ever. Her raven locks were braided in an intricate plait that fell all the way down her back. Her make-up was fresh and understated, with a peach lip color and subtly winged eyeliner.
“Hey, Evie,” Adam said.
“Morning,” she replied, tossing him a quick smile as she opened the bread box. “What are you two up to today?”
“Holly’s dragging me over to Scarlet’s so we can talk flowers,” Adam told her.
“You said you wanted to help make the wedding plans,” I reminded him.
“That was back when you were going to the cake tasting. Now, if you want to revisit that decision, I’m more than happy to tag along.”
I shot Evangeline a long-suffering look. “I hope you have more luck with Teddy,” I told her, as she was rather newly engaged herself.
Laughing, she pulled a piece of bread out of the bread box, then paused, glancing around the counter like she’d misplaced something.
“Oh.” I winced. “Sorry, but the toaster is kaput.”
“How? Didn’t you guys just buy it?”
“Let’s just say, Sage could give Posy a run for her money in the destructive emotions department,” I said. “Next time we host a witch with a telekinetic bent, we need to hide the valuables.”
Evangeline’s hand hung in the air, the piece of untoasted bread dangling from her fingers.
“Maybe we should have kept that baby dragon after all,” Adam teased. “He could have toasted that up right quick.”
Evangeline and I laughed. Crossing to the fridge, she folded the bread in half and held it between her teeth as she retrieved the jam jar.
“I’m sure our home insurance agent would have loved that idea,” I teased. “As for the flowers, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Adam popped a few more crackers into his mouth and shrugged.
“Scarlet will have to do the heavy lifting anyway,” I continued as he chewed. “I can grow just about anything, but ask me which flowers and plants look good together in a bouquet and I’m lost.”
“I was mostly kidding,” Adam said, brushing one hand off on his jeans, before putting the box of crackers away. “I took the morning off, so let’s go flower power it up!”
“I didn’t realize flower power was a verb,” Evangeline said, flashing me a grin.
“Learn something new every day,” I quipped before finishing my tea. “When we get back, we need to turn down the rooms and get everything set up for Lacey. I can’t believe they’re all coming tomorrow!”
Evangeline bobbed her head as she spread jam onto the piece of bread. “I talked to her last night, actually.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. She wanted to see if I could stay open past dark one night so she could bring the other ladies by for some treatments.”
“That’s a good idea,” I replied. We’d partnered with Evangeline’s day spa for our bridal weekend bookings. I hadn’t even thought to ask in regard to Lacey’s visit. But then, she wasn’t coming for a girls’ weekend. She had rented out the inn to host a conclave of vampires, some of whom sounded like heavy hitters in the vamp world, though the purpose of the meeting was still a little murky.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the kitchen door, I straightened and set my mug aside. “We should get going,” I told Adam. “See you later, Evangeline. Sorry about the toaster. I’ll get another one on order as soon as we get back.”<
br />
Evangeline laughed. “No problem. Tell Scarlet I said hello.”
“Will do!”
“I can’t believe we’re six weeks out!” Scarlet Sanderson gushed as soon as Adam and I arrived at her flower shop, Lily Pond.
“Trust me, we can’t either,” I said, smiling up at Adam. We’d been together for several years now, but the engagement and wedding planning process had still managed to feel a little bit like a whirlwind.
Adam looped an arm around my waist. “We just gotta get this one down that aisle. I still think she might pull a runaway bride on me.”
Scarlet laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“No, I’m in too deep now,” I replied with feigned resignation. “What with the inn and everything. It would be too sticky to cut and run now.”
We laughed as Scarlet shepherded us toward the small consultation table where she’d laid out a few bound portfolios and a stack of bridal magazines issued in the last few months. “Do you guys want coffee or anything?” she asked as we took our seats.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” a disembodied voice purred from across the room.
Twisting in my chair, I saw the ghost of a Himalayan cat float down from a display case near the windows. “Flapjack …” I grimaced.
Scarlet frowned at the cat. “What have I told you about bothering me during consultations?”
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