A Witch For All Seasons Book 1
AVAILABLE 2 February 2024
A magical mansion. A missing grimoire. An irresistible murder mystery.
When Tempest Joy’s car careens off the road and she finds herself rescued by a broomstick-riding witch, she’s convinced she’s headed straight for the loony bin.
Little does she know, the real adventure is just beginning.
Not only does she discover she’s a witch with a sassy cat familiar, but she stumbles upon the lifeless body of her Aunt Violet Atherington, the very person she was en route to visit.
As incriminating magical traces point to Temmie, she becomes the prime suspect in the murder. Determined to clear her name, she plunges headfirst into a daunting investigation, much to the chagrin of Jack Kalahari, the handsome yet gruff magical investigator overseeing the case.
However, Temmie’s magical ability remains a mystery, as does the elusive grimoire she’s alleged to have stolen. Adding to the chaos, her late aunt’s bewitched mansion suddenly claims her as its new owner.
Meanwhile, the real murderer remains at large, with a chilling interest in Temmie as their potential next victim.
Can Temmie unlock her magical talents in time to save herself? And more importantly, will she figure out how to tame her new, unruly house?
TO BE UPDATED!
Release Date: 9 Feb 2024
Author: Juliana Ariffin
Publisher: Juliana Ariffin
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Ni—ce, Felix said as he sauntered around on the front porch, his tail held high. I knew I chose correctly. This domicile is quite befitting someone of my status.
“This is my aunt’s house, not mine,” I said primly. Though I couldn’t help looking at the building with longing. The house looked like it was three stories tall, with two main stories and an attic floor. There were even turrets and what looked like an inner courtyard surrounded by two other wings.
My goodness. No wonder Aunt Violet hadn’t hesitated when I’d asked if I could come stay with her for a few weeks. We wouldn’t even need to cross paths in this mansion if we so wished.
“I wonder how she manages to keep this all so well maintained,” I mused as I walked around the building to look towards the gardens. They were beautifully landscaped, with row upon row of geometrically shaped flowerbeds interspersed with fountains and gleaming white statues. “Maybe she has cadres of servants.”
“Well, then one of them should answer this door!” Simon huffed as he banged on the knocker again. “Hello! Helloooo! Miss Violet Atherington? Your niece is here to see you!”
Oh dear, the house is not going to like that.
I paused mid-step at the random—and weird—thought that had threaded through my mind. What an odd notion. A house not liking something. Houses didn’t have feelings. Did they?
As I turned to gaze up at the mansion, a strange feeling that I was being watched swept over me. Not an eerie sort of feeling at all, though. No, if I had to describe it, I’d say it felt more like a proud peacock was peeking out from under its wing at me, showing off as it preened its colorful plumage.
I shook my head, dismissing the image.
Though peacocks would make a fine addition to the grounds of this place. If I had my way, I’d—
No. I didn’t have my way. This was my aunt’s home, not mine! And besides, peacocks probably costed a bomb!
More loud knocks sounded from the front door. I grimaced, but decided to leave Simon to it. I’d learned the hard way that although he looked somewhat soft, he was really as stubborn as a goat.
“I’ll just check to see if there’s anyone around here,” I said, tearing my eyes from the mansion and quickening my steps. With any luck, I’d stumble across my aunt—or someone who could bring me to her—before Simon got a chance to start spewing his speech about how I was a witch and needed to be trained to use magic. The last thing I needed was for old Aunt Violet to catch a whiff of that!
A curvy little gravel path led down the side of the house to an inviting pergola hung over with showers of purple and white wisteria. I strolled down it, unable to look away from the breathtaking view of the gardens beyond.
My aunt must love plants, I mused. Something we had in common then, though I couldn’t grow a cabbage leaf to save my life. Mom had been the same. She’d bought countless pots of herbs from the grocery store because they supposedly only needed a sprinkling of water every few days to keep going. But even those couldn’t survive a week in our house.
Perhaps I should ask my aunt for some tips on how to grow plants while I was here. I would love to be able to have something green in my apartment. Well, besides me on a Friday night. I stifled a laugh, then nearly choked when I caught sight of stockinged feet in high heels lying on the ground just beyond the arbor.
Huh. Could that be a highbrow version of a scarecrow or something?
I tiptoed closer to the feet, tracing the white stockings until I glimpsed a demure tweed skirt and jacket that looked like they could be Chanel, a string of crushed pearls, and… great galloping gargoyles!
There was a dead body under the wisteria!