Welcome back to Holiday Hills, a magical town where good always trumps evil, even if it’s a little late to the game. Oh, how I love Bessie’s place, the hub of Holiday Hills, the Enchanted Bookstore and Café.

I spend my days there, sweet aroma of cinnamon lattes, the gentle rustle of book pages, and the soft tapping of my laptop keys as I spin tales of witchy whodunits. That was, until reality decided to give my fiction a run for its money.

Again. My regular table, nestled in a cozy corner beneath an antique chandelier, has always been my sanctuary - until Hansen, a male witch finishing high school, and one of Bessie’s part-time employees, dropped dead right in the middle of delivering a tray of pumpkin spice lattes to a gaggle of wide-eyed high school magicals.

Now, instead of weaving fictional tales of intrigue and whimsy, I'm embroiled in a bona fide mystery. I have to be.

Bessie is the closest thing I have to family, and I owe her my life. At least I’m not alone in this.

I’ve got Cooper, my snarky cat familiar who’s got an opinion on everything, my best friend, Stella, who just wants to conjure calorie-free cupcakes on the regular, and her pup familiar, Pony, who, bless his heart, has a nose as sharp for sniffing out clues as it is for finding hidden snacks. Together, we've formed an unlikely and unofficial detective squad, one my police chief significant other swears will be the death of him, even though he’ll never die.

Literally. You see, in our little town, things are never as simple as they seem.

Hansen's death wasn’t an unfortunate accident. It was murder.

As I dig deeper, juggling interviews with suspects and book deadlines, I began to uncover secrets that would make even my most scandalous characters blush. From love potions gone awry to ancient grudges simmering beneath polite smiles, everyone’s got something to hide.

But I need to catch this killer quickly. Not only for Bessie, but because it's becoming alarmingly clear that I might be next on their list.

It’s a race against the clock, and if I don’t write the final scene on my terms, I could end up the final draft of my own book. .