Pretty Little Fliers: A Cozy Witch Mystery (Magic Market Mysteries Book 1)
PRETTY LITTLE FLIERS
A COZY WITCH MYSTERY
ERIN JOHNSON
For Josefa,
Te amo lady!
CONTENTS
Prequel Novella
1.
The Reading
2.
Pet Psychic
3.
Back-Alley Vet
4.
Anger Issues
5.
Speak!
6.
Poisoned
7.
Dead
8.
The Dragon
9.
Eviction Notice
10.
The Victim
11.
Two Truths and a Lie
12.
The Parakeet
13.
The Feud
14.
The Botanist
15.
A Confession
16.
Brew
17.
Leftovers
18.
Snooping
19.
The Rendezvous
20.
Half-Truths
21.
Lady Amelie LeBec
22.
Liar Liar
23.
Boudoir by Bim
24.
Jake the Snake
25.
The Darkroom
26.
The Black Envelope
27.
Millie
28.
The Secretary
29.
The Tea
30.
The Arrest
31.
Extra Curricular
32.
Another Runner in the Night
33.
The Key
34.
Blinded
35.
Ironic
36.
Take the Money and Run
37.
Perks
Front Page News
Ludolf's Goons
The case
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Get the FREE Prequel Novella
A magical academy. A suspicious death. Can an inexperienced cop expose the deadly secrets lurking behind bewitched classroom doors?
Check out rookie officer Peter Flint’s first case with Daisy. Saved by the Spell is the prequel to the Magic Market paranormal cozy mystery series.
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THE READING
I’m throwing up on her bed because she dresses me in ugly sweaters. The white cat blinked at me, then returned to licking the long, wispy fur on its front paw.
I brought a fist to my mouth to hide my grin.
“Yes? What is it?” His owner, the prim older lady who sat across the table from me, leaned forward. “Do you know what’s wrong with my Mr. Floofy?” She lowered the flowery handkerchief she’d been holding to her nose.
I tried not to roll my eyes. I mean, yeah my trash needed to be taken out (weeks ago) and the smells of sewer and street food wafting in from the noisy street below weren’t doing my apartment any favors. But it wasn’t that bad.
I straightened and brought my fingers to my temples. “Hm, yes, I’m getting something.” I dipped my face close to the cat’s so the woman wouldn’t overhear me and muttered out of the corner of my mouth. “Meow?” Would you prefer different styles or…?
The cat narrowed his lime green eyes at me and let out a low yowl. No sweaters at all, you dolt! No clothes! I’m a cat, for rat’s sake. Treat me with some dignity.
I glared right back at him. Treat me with some dignity or I’ll tell her you despise tuna treats.
He flattened his ears and hissed at me.
I sat straighter and waved my hands over the crystal ball before me. Gold stars and moons covered the blue velvet tablecloth below it. It was all part of the act. A clump of white fur blew over the fabric like a tumbleweed. Great, now I’d have to do laundry.
The woman’s wide eyes darted from the crystal to my face. “What do you see?”
I abruptly stopped waving my hands and splayed my palms. “Yeah, Mr. Floofy’s not into wearing clothes.” I thumbed at the cat on the table beside me. He sported a mint green gingham bonnet and cape. “In my professional psychic opinion, if you stop dressing him up, the vomit will stop also.”
The lady’s expression grew hard and closed. She huffed, rose to her feet, and snatched her cat up off the table. “Why, I never! I should have known you were a fraud.”
She huffed again as she swept her scowl over my humble abode. “Me. In a dump like this. I don’t know how you ever fooled me.” She adjusted the cat in her arms and shrugged her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “Floofy loves those sweaters. I’m leaving!”
I shoved back from the table and leapt to my feet. No. She couldn’t leave. I was way behind on my rent, and she was my first client in… snakes, I couldn’t even think of the last one I’d had. My apartment/business was located down a narrow side alley off the main drag of the Darkmoon Night Market. I didn’t get a lot of foot traffic.
Even if I had though, I doubted business would be booming. On the magical island of Bijou Mer, just off the coast of human France, legit psychics and seers abounded—but somehow most folk didn’t believe a pet psychic was a real thing. Probably because it wasn’t. They assumed I was lying about my abilities—which made sense, because I was.
The lady marched toward the beaded curtain that led to the stairs out. “Ugh!” She waved a fly away from her face.
The little guy flew in swooping circles, humming to himself. Bizzy, buzzy, dizzy, fizzy, flying around is lots of fun.
Sands, flies were so inane. I glanced past the woman to what passed for my living room. It was just a threadbare couch in the middle of the shabby room, with my Walkman resting on one of the torn cushions.
I itched to put on my headphones and drown out the fly, the daddy longlegs catching gnats above the windows, the cockroaches chatting and laughing behind the wall, and the rats having a family reunion in the ceiling.
That was the problem (well, one of them) with being able to speak with animals. I also had to listen to them. There was no white noise in my world, no silence.
Seagulls didn’t caw anymore, they shouted at each other. Crickets didn’t chirp—they bragged. The world was a noisy, chatty place, and the only way I could cope was by drowning it all out with some sweet, sweet tunes. Well, mostly ambient rain sounds, but sometimes tunes.
But relief would have to wait—rent and food money were top priority.
I bit the inside of my cheek. From top defense lawyer to this. Ah, there was that familiar ache in my core. I sighed and swallowed what little was left of my dignity.
“Wait! I’m getting something else. I was confused by Floofy’s strong feelings—”
The woman shifted the big cat in the bonnet to her other arm and paused just in front of the beaded curtain. Her eyes remained hard, her lips a tight line. But at least she’d stopped.
“Yes, it was my mistake.” I nodded and rubbed my temples. “Floofy’s got such strong feelings—not of hate—but of love for those luxurious and fashionable outfits you style him in.”
The woman blinked and took a few steps back toward me.
“Mew?” The cat’s tail swished. What are