Well, it took me long enough, I know. But I'm happy to say BELL, BOOK AND SCANDAL (Bedknobs and Broomsticks 3) is now available pretty much everywhere (or soon will be).
Black Cats. Black Arts. Black. Mail.
Must a witch break
one set of vows to keep another?
Cosmo Saville has never been happier. His adored police
commissioner husband has finally—mostly— accepted his witchy ways. And in
return, Cosmo has promised to stay out of police business. It seems their
Happily Ever After has come at last, until Cos discovers John’s sister might be
a pawn in a dangerous game of blackmail…
Commissioner Galbraith is relieved the lies and secrets are
over and his marriage is back on track. Especially since he has his hands full
with a high-profile suicide and rumors of a citywide extortion ring. So when
John realizes his own slightly wicked witch is using magic to play sleuth, all
his old fears and doubts return to haunt him.
With the commissioner’s badge and family in jeopardy, Cosmo
feels he has no choice but to use every power in…his power. Even if that dark
decision costs him everything he cares about most.
Excerpt
A giant blue rabbit was strolling into the Classical Revival
mansion on Yerba Buena Island when John and I arrived at the mayor’s Halloween
party.
“Werewolves of London” floated on the night breeze, and
grinning jack-o’-lanterns lined the brick steps as we went inside. The smell of
recent rain, candles, and burning pumpkin filled the damp night air.
Mrs. Stevens—call me Sukie—greeted us at the door.
She wore a tight black dress, scarlet-lined black cape, and a witch’s hat.
“Commissioner! We’re so delighted you could join us. And darling
Cosmo!”
I’m not sure when Sukie and I got on darling terms,
but I leaned in to kiss her and noticed she was wearing a silver inverted
pentagram on a chain.
Now the upside-down pentagram is not exclusively Satanic.
There are even Wiccan covens that have adopted the symbol to designate ranking.
Not many. Craft does not use it, and Sukie was definitely not Craft. I wouldn’t
have guessed she was Wiccan. And maybe she wasn’t. This was a Halloween party,
and half the women in the room were dressed like sexy witches. The necklace
looked old and expensive, but appearances can be deceptive. No one knows that
better than those of us within the Craft.
If I hadn’t already been on edge, I don’t think I’d have
made anything of the amulet. But after the day I’d had, I was seeing potential trouble
everywhere.
Sukie led us through the giant cobweb of orange and black
streamers, introducing us to people as we went. John was commandeered almost at
once by Deputy Police Chief Danville and Mayor Stevens. He tried to delay the
inevitable by telling them he was on his way to the bar, but Danville pointed
out they were already in line at the bar, and Sukie stepped in, linking her arm
in mine and telling John shop talk was so boring and she would
take care of me.
I couldn’t help wondering if, after the contretemps at the
last party at our house—the party where I’d tried to redirect the police
investigation into the Witch Killer murders—the mayor had asked his wife to
keep me out of the way.
John threw me a look of apology. I tugged on my deerstalker
in my best, All right, guv’nor.
“You two are so adorable,” Sukie said, towing me along
through the vampires and witches and clowns. “He’s absolutely besotted
with you.”
“He’s not really the besotted kind,” I felt it necessary to
observe.
“He’s besotted with you.”
We ran into Mrs. Danville—It’s Alice, remember?—who
was also dressed like a witch. Her flirty little cape was lined with orange.
Her sparkly earrings were inverted pentagrams.
“Oh my God. Sherlock Holmes. That’s adorable!” crowed
Alice.
“He needs a drink,” Sukie said, trying to draw me on.
Alice had hold of my other arm, and she held me in place. “Has
he met—?”
“That’s next on the agenda.” Sukie and Alice
exchanged meaningful looks, which made me more uneasy.
We chitchatted for a few minutes—I couldn’t say about what
if my life had depended on it—and then we were joined by Ann Morrisey, wife of
Police Chief Morrisey.
Ann was also dressed like a witch—purple-lined flirty cape,
inverted pentagram ring—and my heart sank.
Ann asked if I still enjoyed married life and whether Sergeant
Bergamasco was a regular fixture in my household. I replied yes to the former
and no to the latter. She asked if I had been worried to learn that Ciara Reitherman
was out on bail, and I said no. I didn’t think Ciara posed a danger to me or
John. She asked what I had heard about Chris Huntingdon, and I said I had heard
nothing. As far as I knew, he was still rooming at Atascadero State Hospital.
Ann said to Sukie, “Has Cosmo met—?”
Sukie said, “Great minds think alike!”
By now I was pretty sure who the mysterious someone the
First Wives Club wanted me to meet was, and far from being pleased at the
opportunity to meet SFPD’s occult expert, I could feel my tension mounting by
the moment.
“Are you talking about Solomon Shimon?”
Their faces lit up. “Then you’ve heard of Solomon?” Sukie
said.
“John mentioned that SFPD has its own occult expert.”
They chorused, “Yes!”
Ann said, “But he’s so much more than that.”
That was what I was afraid of.
