by Morgana Best
Battle of the Hexes
A Standalone Halloween Cozy Mystery Novella
Morgana Best
Battle of the Hexes
A Standalone Halloween Cozy Mystery Novella
Copyright © 2019 by Morgana Best
All Rights Reserved
Second Edition
Copyright © 2020 by Morgana Best
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 any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book may contain references to specific commercial products, process or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and/or trade names of products, which are trademarks or registered trademarks and/or trade names, and these are property of their respective owners. Morgana Best or her associates, have no association with any specific commercial products, process, or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and / or trade names of products.
Contents
Glossary
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
Sample of Witches’ Brew
Connect with Morgana
Also by Morgana Best
About Morgana Best
Glossary
Some Australian spellings and expressions are entirely different from US spellings and expressions. Below are just a few examples. It would take an entire book to list all the differences.
The author has used Australian spelling in this series. Here are a few examples: Mum instead of the US spelling Mom, neighbour instead of the US spelling neighbor, realise instead of the US spelling realize. It is Ms, Mr and Mrs in Australia, not Ms., Mr. and Mrs.; defence not defense; judgement not judgment; cosy and not cozy; 1930s not 1930’s; offence not offense; centre not center; towards not toward; jewellery not jewelry; favour not favor; mould not mold; two storey house not two story house; practise (verb) not practice (verb); odour not odor; smelt not smelled; travelling not traveling; liquorice not licorice; cheque not check; leant not leaned; have concussion not have a concussion; anti clockwise not counterclockwise; go to hospital not go to the hospital; sceptic not skeptic; aluminium not aluminum; learnt not learned. We have fancy dress parties not costume parties. We don’t say gotten. We say car crash (or accident) not car wreck. We say a herb not an herb as we produce the ‘h.’
The above are just a few examples.
It’s not just different words; Aussies sometimes use different expressions in sentence structure. We might eat a curry not eat curry. We might say in the main street not on the main street. Someone might be going well instead of doing well. We might say without drawing breath not without drawing a breath.
These are just some of the differences.
Please note that these are not mistakes or typos, but correct, normal Aussie spelling, terms, and syntax.
* * *
AUSTRALIAN SLANG AND TERMS
Benchtops - counter tops (kitchen)
Big Smoke - a city
Blighter - infuriating or good-for-nothing person
Blimey! - an expression of surprise
Bloke - a man (usually used in nice sense, “a good bloke”)
Blue (noun) - an argument (“to have a blue”)
Bluestone - copper sulphate (copper sulfate in US spelling)
Bluo - a blue laundry additive, an optical brightener
Boot (car) - trunk (car)
Bonnet (car) - hood (car)
Bore - a drilled water well
Budgie smugglers (variant: budgy smugglers) - named after the Aussie native bird, the budgerigar. A slang term for brief and tight-fitting men’s swimwear
Bugger! - as an expression of surprise, not a swear word
Bugger - as in “the poor bugger” - refers to an unfortunate person (not a swear word)
Bunging it on - faking something, pretending
Bush telegraph - the grapevine, the way news spreads by word of mouth in the country
Car park - parking lot
Cark it - die
Chooks - chickens
Come good - turn out okay
Copper, cop - police officer
Coot - silly or annoying person
Cream bun - a sweet bread roll with copious amounts of cream, plus jam (= jelly in US) in the centre
Crook - 1. “Go crook (on someone)” - to berate them. 2. (someone is) crook - (someone is) ill. 3. Crook (noun) - a criminal
Demister (in car) - defroster
Drongo - an idiot
Dunny - an outhouse, a toilet, often ramshackle
Fair crack of the whip - a request to be fair, reasonable, just
Flannelette (fabric) - cotton, wool, or synthetic fabric, one side of which has a soft finish.
Flat out like a lizard drinking water - very busy
Galah - an idiot
Garbage - trash
G’day - Hello
Give a lift (to someone) - give a ride (to someone)
Goosebumps - goose pimples
Gumboots - rubber boots, wellingtons
Knickers - women’s underwear
Laundry (referring to the room) - laundry room
Lamingtons - iconic Aussie cakes, square, sponge, chocolate-dipped, and coated with desiccated coconut. Some have a layer of cream and strawberry jam (= jelly in US) between the two halves.
Lift - elevator
Like a stunned mullet - very surprised
Mad as a cut snake - either insane or very angry
Mallee bull (as fit as, as mad as) - angry and/or fit, robust, super strong.
Miles - while Australians have kilometres these days, it is common to use expressions such as, “The road stretched for miles,” “It was miles away.”
Moleskins - woven heavy cotton fabric with suede-like finish, commonly used as working wear, or as town clothes
Mow (grass / lawn) - cut (grass / lawn)
Neenish tarts - Aussie tart. Pastry base. Filling is based on sweetened condensed milk mixture or mock cream. Some have layer of raspberry jam (jam = jelly in US). Topping is in two equal halves: icing (= frosting in US), usually chocolate on one side, and either lemon or pink or the other.
Pub - The pub at the south of a small town is often referred to as the ‘bottom pub’ and the pub at the north end of town, the ‘top pub.’ The size of a small town is often judged by the number of pubs - i.e. “It’s a three pub town.”
Red cattle dog - (variant: blue cattle dog usually known as a ‘blue dog’) - referring to the breed of Australian Cattle Dog. However, a ‘red dog’ is usually a red kelpie (another breed of dog)
Shoot through - leave
Shout (a drink) - to buy a drink for someone
Skull (a drink) - drink a whole drink without stopping
Stone the crows! - an expression of surprise
Takeaway (food) - Take Out (food)
Toilet - also refers to the room if it is separate from the bathroom
Torch - flashlight
Tuck in (to food) - to eat food hungrily
Ute /Utility - pickup truck
Vegemite - Australian food spread, thick, dark brown
Wardrobe - closet
Windscreen - windshield
* * *
Indigenous References
Bush tucker - food that occurs in the Australian bush
Koori - the original inhabitants/traditional custodians of the land of Australia in the part of NSW in which this book is set. Murri are the people just to the north. White European culture often uses the term, Aboriginal people.
Chapter One
The sight of the dead body alarmed me.
Not simply because it was a dead body—who wouldn’t be alarmed by that?—but because it was the body of my neighbour, Harrison, and what’s more, because the police would interview me as a witness.
I had managed to avoid the police all my life. Witches, vampires, and shifters were captured and imprisoned in terrible conditions on Tartarus Island off the east coast of Australia. The mundane populace of Australia, of course, had no idea witches existed, and the government did their best to keep it that way.
What’s more, Halloween was only days away, and so the government was on full alert.
If only I hadn’t checked to see why Harrison was late opening his pawnshop. I took several deep breaths.
Tears streamed down my face as I called the police.
I was back in my own store when the police arrived. “Adeline Bloomwood?” the cop asked. “I’m Sergeant Barnes and this is Constable Jones. Are you able to tell me what happened?”
I tried not to burst into tears. “Somebody asked me what time Harrison opened. He should have been open already, so I popped next door. His door was open just a crack, and I saw his legs sticking out from behind the desk. The Closed sign was still on the door.”
“Who asked you?’
“Just someone passing through town. A man.”
Barnes nodded. “Did you hear any gunshots?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t hear anything at all. I mean, I wasn’t here all morning, though.”
“Where and when did you go?” Sergeant Barnes asked.
“I went to the Hallows Café to get a coffee. That was about seven. Then I came straight back here.”
“Don’t you live above your store?” the cop asked. “Why didn’t you make coffee at home?”
I wondered where he was going with this. Did he see me as a suspect? “It doesn’t taste as good if you make it yourself, of course,” I said, “and instant coffee is against my religion, so to speak. I do have a French Press and a Nespresso machine.” I neglected to tell them the French Press was in the shape of a cauldron.
Barnes cut me off. “Right. And you didn’t see anyone or hear anything?”
“Oh, yes, I saw someone,” I said. “I saw a nun running away.”
The two officers looked at each other. “Sister Bertrand is hardly likely to run,” Barnes said with obvious disbelief.
“It wasn’t Sister Bertrand,” I said. “This was a different nun and she was wearing a full habit, you know, like they wore in the olden days, like Julie Andrews wore on The Sound of Music.”
Constable Jones sputtered, and the sergeant’s face grew stern. “Ms Bloomwood, have you been drinking?”
I glared at him. “No! I saw a nun in a full traditional habit.”
At that point, something brushed past my legs. “I’m outta here!” my familiar, Pudding, said as he ran through my legs and out the shop door. I dashed out of the store, the cops hard on my tail. I expect they thought I was the one who had spoken and was making a run for it.
I seized Pudding before he came to any harm, ignoring his bad language. “You bad cat! The road’s dangerous.” To the cops I said, “My famil… I mean my cat, isn’t allowed outside.”
I stared at them in horror. Had they noticed my slip? Did they know it was Pudding who had spoken? Would they arrest me?
Chapter Two
I was arranging the Halloween display in my upcycled furniture store when a man walked through the door. My heart missed a beat. My main witch power was telekinesis, but I was also intuitive. I knew this man was going to be significant to me, and it wasn’t just wishful thinking due to the fact he looked like an actor from The Vampire Diaries.
“Hi there,” he said. “You have a lot of pumpkins in here.”
“It’s Halloween in a few days,” I pointed out.
He nodded. “Do you know when the pawnshop next door will be open?”
“The owner was found murdered a few hours ago.”
The man looked shocked. “I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea.”
“Did you know Harrison?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m from Australian Visa Control. My name’s Jackson Scott.”
My blood ran cold. Australian Visa Control sounded innocent enough, but all paranormal people knew it was the agency that hunted witches and sent them to Tartarus Island. Had the police called him? I had just returned from the police station after giving my statement, and I had been certain the police were oblivious to my secret.
“I’m investigating a gang involved in a string of major bank robberies. What happened to Harrison?”
“He was murdered,” I said with a shudder. “Someone shot him in his store.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“I did see someone.”
He took a step closer to me.
I took a deep breath, relieved he wasn’t here to arrest me. “I saw a nun running from the pawnshop.”
“A nun? So there’s a convent nearby?”
“Yes, but the thing is, there’s only Sister Bertrand left at the convent these days, and she’s elderly and arthritic. The nun I saw sprinted away. Sister Bertrand always wore a skirt and blouse, but this nun was in full traditional habit and was wearing orange running shoes.”
Jackson pulled out a pen and notepad. “That’s most unusual. Aussie nuns these days don’t usually wear traditional habits.”
I shrugged. “I’m not Catholic, so I wouldn’t know.”
“I’m not Catholic either, but I went to a Catholic school,” he said. “You know, for a better education and all that. And you’ve never seen this nun before?”
“Definitely not,” I said. “Sister Bertrand doesn’t wear a habit, and she has trouble walking, let alone running. It must’ve been a nun passing through town.”
Jackson bit his lip. “Maybe the convent had visitors.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” I said. “Still, why would a nun go to a pawnshop?”
Jackson looked up from his notepad. “I need to visit the convent. Do you know Sister Bertrand??”
I shook my head. “We say hello to each other, but we’ve never had a conversation as such.”
“Still, she knows your face?”
“It’s a small country town,” I said. “Everybody knows everybody’s face and everybody’s business.”
He was silent for a moment. “Will you come with me?”
“To the convent?”
He nodded. “She knows you, at least by sight. It would help.”
I did not want to spend a second longer than necessary in the agent’s company, no matter how good looking he was. Still, I figured agreeing would make me appear less suspicious. “Sure.”
“I have stuff to do tomorrow. What about Saturday?”
“I close at midday on Saturdays, so any time after that would be fine.”
As soon as he left, Pudding hopped onto my desk. “He’s a hottie. What lovely blue eyes and big muscles. You human females like tall, dark, and handsome. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Really, Pudding,” I scolded him. “He’s an AVC agent. He could arrest us both.”
Pudding waved a fluffy paw at me. “You like him, and he likes you. I get the vibe from him. I feel it in my whiskers.”
I exhaled long and hard. “If he wasn’t somebody with the power to imprison me forever, sure, I would think he was my ideal man, at least at first glance.”
&
nbsp; “But…” Pudding began, but I interrupted him.
“And even if he was interested in me, nothing could ever happen between us. The longer I’m around him, the more chance there is he’ll discover what I am.”
Chapter Three
“Excuse me?”
I was out the front of my store, checking the Halloween display in the window. I looked over my shoulder to see a tall woman.
“The Hallows Café is just down the road on the right,” I said automatically. With Hallows being halfway between two of the three major cities on the east coast of Australia, and several hours from the nearest coffee when heading south, plenty of caffeine-deprived travellers arrived in town in a state of desperation.
The woman’s nose twitched. “Thanks, but I’m looking for Harrison’s Pawn and Brokerage Shop.”
I pointed to the large street sign hanging over her head. The woman did a fast double take. “There it is! I often don’t see things right under my nose. I have a condition. It’s really calibrated.”
“Calibrated?” I asked.
She frowned at me. “Yes, you know, really hard to explain?”
“Do you mean complicated?”
The lady nodded. “Yes. Complicated. It’s so hard to believe I’m here!”
She appeared to be overawed, almost as if she had reached some sort of historical landmark such as the Sydney Opera House. I had never seen anyone so happy to see a pawnshop in my life. After a moment of total silence, I cleared my throat. “Um, I’m sorry to tell you Harrison passed away this morning.”
“Oh I know that. The police called me. I’ve just arrived from Sydney. I’m Rosalind, Harrison’s wife.”