I thought this evening would be like any other at Ivywood Hollow Bed and Breakfast.

After all, I had been very cozy curled up in our green velvet sofa, listening to the wind whistle outside and watching the firelight dance over the dark honeyed walls of the parlor. My aunts were bickering, good-naturedly of course, but there was nothing unusual about that. No, it had been a night like any other. A typical day in the life, you might say. We certainly weren’t expecting to find our one and only guest on the floor of her room, crumpled in a pool of blood, dead.

Constance had been staying at Ivywood Hollow while her historic home, Graves House, was undergoing some much-needed renovations, and given how small a town Evenfall is, we knew that Constance could be demanding, but we really hadn’t been concerned. After all, we’d always been able to win over hard-to-please guests in the past – we are very good at what we do – but some guests really are more demanding than others.

Unfortunately, it was all those demands that had probably led my aunt Nora to make a few ill-timed comments to our neighbor about wanting to kill Constance right before she, well, died. Nora was joking, of course, blowing off steam. Really, she feels terrible about what happened – even if it is hard to tell given her bristly personality. All three of us take pride in Ivywood Hollow and the comfort we provide our guests. We want everyone who stays with us to have a memorable experience. We had never had a guest hurt, let alone die while staying with us. And the truth is we aren’t like other B&B proprietors. We should have been able to prevent this.

Magically speaking, we should have been able to prevent this.

We are witches after all.

Enchantments and conjurations. Spells and incantations. Fascinations and charms. All the hocus-pocus old wives used to speak of in hushed tones by the fire. My aunts and I can do all of those things. Or, at least, they can.

We, Warrens, have been practicing magic in our small town for nearly four hundred years, using our powers to help our fellow citizens. And while we can’t solve every problem we encounter, we do our best to use our gifts to help when we can.

My aunt Izzy is a kitchen witch. She’s a maestro with food. Even without magic her creations are enchanting. She can enhance just about any emotion with the right recipe, and she always has the perfect dish on hand to help a neighbor in need, regardless of the circumstance. My aunt Nora, on the other hand, is a garden witch. She understands plants. She knows how to grow them and what they can be used for. The idea of a garden witch might seem cute, but only the very foolish underestimate what my aunt can do with the leafy green devils in her conservatory.

Then there’s me, and my talent. Unlike my aunts, I never had to create or nurture my magical affinity. It just is. Or rather was. And it would have come in handy right about now.

You see, I’m a friend of the other side.

Or to put it more bluntly, a witch of the dead.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had the ability to see and talk with ghosts just like I would anyone else. All that changed, though, when I lost my husband.

In the past, it would have been easy to find out exactly what happened to Constance. Back then, I would have spent the day talking with her spirit, inquiring about her life, asking her what she thought had happened – ghosts almost never remember the hours before their deaths. I also would have asked her if she had any final business she needed me to help her resolve, or if she had any final words she wanted to pass on.

But that was who I used to be.

Things are different now. And there’s no going back to being the witch I once was.

But it’s fine. I don’t need magic to find out what happened to Constance. I can learn about her in other ways. Besides, the whole issue is moot. What happened to Constance was an accident. I’m sure of it.

In the Company of Witches, An Evenfall Witches B&B Mystery #1
Genre: Cozy
Release: October 2021
Purchase Link

When a guest dies in the B&B she helps her aunts run, a young witch must rely on some good old-fashioned investigating to clear her aunt’s name in this magical and charming new cozy mystery.

For four hundred years, the Warren witches have used their magic to quietly help the citizens of the sleepy New England town of Evenfall thrive. There’s never been a problem they couldn’t handle. But then Constance Graves–a local known for being argumentative and demanding–dies while staying at the bed and breakfast Brynn Warren maintains with her aunts. At first, it seems like an accident. . .but it soon becomes clear that there’s something more sinister at work, and Aunt Nora is shaping up to be the prime suspect.

There’s nothing Brynn wants more than to prove Nora’s innocence, and it hurts her to know that even two years ago that might have been easier. Brynn, after all, is a witch of the dead–a witch who can commune with ghosts. Ghosts never remember much about their deaths, but Constance might remember something about her life that would help crack the case. But Brynn hasn’t used her powers since her husband died, and isn’t even sure she still can. Brynn will just have to hope that her aunts’ magic and her own investigative skills will lead her to answers–and maybe back to the gift she once thought herself ready to give up forever.

About the author
Auralee Wallace is the author of multiple novels, including the Otter Lake mystery series and the Evenfall Witches B&B Mysteries. She has an undergraduate degree in psychology and a Master’s degree in English literature, and she worked in the publishing industry for a number of years before teaching at the college level. When this perpetually sleep-deprived mother of three children and one rescue cat isn’t writing, reading, or playing soccer, she can be found watching BBC mysteries and warring with a family of peregrine falcons for the rights to her backyard.

All comments are welcomed.