Stephanie Damore
There's nothing practical about magic—which is why I ditched my wand years ago.
Thirteen years, to be exact.
The day I left Silverlake.
Except now, a family emergency has called me back home, and quite frankly, I'd rather be anywhere but here.
But when my aunt raises her wand to cure a friend and he ends up dead, it becomes abundantly clear I'm not leaving anytime soon.
Welcome to Silverlake, a place where
It turns that even a witch can't run from her past forever.
A lesson I learned the hard way.
But now I'm back home, and things are going well. Or they were for about five minutes.
With the town-saving fall festival days away, the inn's renovation have fallen apart, running me ragged and right into a crime scene. A suspicious death has sent gossip flying faster than you can say bibidi babidi boo, threatening
Happy Halloween!
Welcome to the best holiday of the year.
Or I thought it was until the tricks began to outweigh the treats.
Frog curses, poisoned candy apples, and a wayward vampire are only the half of it. Add in a two-hundred-year-old curse, a depressed poltergeist, and a dead body, and you can see why my enthusiasm for the witchiest day of the year is waning.
Not cool, Halloween Hijacker. Not cool.
Which is