Shake Your Green Thing: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 2) (10 page)

But I kind of liked it.

I almost stopped dead in the middle of the rink— which would have been inadvisable— as my eyes fell upon a short, menacing figure in the dining area. Biting my tongue to keep from yelling, I stomped over there, leaving Wyatt and Cooper staring in my wake.

"Grandma," I said, towering over the old lady who had my eyes, "you had better have a good explanation for disappearing these last couple of days."

She looked up from her untouched piece of pizza, her red apron just as firmly in place as her sense of superiority. "Not really."

I huffed out an indignant breath. "I almost died! I needed you."

Her eyes looked me up and down scathingly. "As there are no major pieces missing, I'm going to wager you didn't need me as badly as you thought you did."

I slid into the both next to her, refusing to let her lack of concern derail my well-justified irritation. "You were supposed to find the potion for me. I had to rifle through your library for hours before I found that talking book of yours."

I decided in that split second not to tell her about Wyatt being there as well. As a maybe immortal witch and a cranky old lady, my grandma was frequently unpredictable with her temper. If she turned him into a frog— an occurrence that was not unheard of— I'd have to find a new boyfriend. Not to mention, have an awkward talk with Cooper about why is dad was coming home in a glass case.

"Talking book?" She sat back in the cracked leather booth, looking interested for the first time since I started talking. I tried not to take that to heart. "Hmm."

"Yes, hmm. It fell off the shelf and hit me on the head."

She scratched her chin, totally unconcerned with my head injury. "But it told you what poison was being used and how to make an antidote?"

"In other words, did your job for you? Yes, it did."

Talking back to Gran was like poking a bear. Sometimes, it decided you were beneath its notice and went back to sleep. Other times, you got eaten. When her eyes didn't flash dangerously, I figured I wasn't on the menu tonight.

She didn't bother to explain how or why the book could talk, nodding to where I'd been skating with Wyatt and Cooper a few minutes ago. "You look good with the Bennett boy."

Since she'd been the first one to say we'd make a good couple, I let her have her smug little comment and grined. Still, caution on this subject was called for.

"I do," I said slowly.

"Do you remember what I said about great grandchildren?"

Wincing, I didn't figure it was possible I could have forgotten. A couple of weeks ago, right when she'd given her approval of Wyatt as my future husband (before I'd even gone on a first date with him), she'd expressed that she'd like some great grandchildren. Then, as I did now, I shuddered a little inside, thinking that what Gran wanted, she usually got.

"I remember, Grandma."

"Good." Suddenly, her gaze sharpened. "I remember him being such a good boy— but a good boy would've asked my permission by now."

Apparently, that last part had been for Wyatt's benefit, because he showed up at my side a moment later, looking uncharacteristically subdued. "Harper's a grown woman, Mrs. Hanes. She wouldn't take kindly to you giving me permission."

Gran raised an eyebrow— which was never a good sign. "Oh?"

He slid in next to me, forcing me to scoot over or be pushed aside. I shot him an annoyed glance, but his attention was solely on my grandmother. They stared each other down, neither one blinking. My own eyes went back and forth between the two, wondering when fists would start flying.

"What are your intentions toward my granddaughter?" she asked at last.

Making an indelicate and frustrated noise, I said, "Grandma!"

Wyatt put a hand up to shush me. I didn't take too kindly to that, but I figured I should shut up and let Gran take care of him. If I could rely on her to do anything, it was put someone in their place.

"I plan to marry her," he said simply, completely unaware of my jaw hitting the ground with a clang.

He was planning on marrying me? Did I have a say in it? I glared at him, picking at my nail like I sometimes do when I'm stressed. First, he made me care about his kid, then he offered me my own closet at his place, now marriage? It was probably too soon, as far as normal people were concerned. But then, if I was going to go through with it, my sleuthing did shorten my life expectancy. Now or never and all that jazz.

But I
wasn't
going to marry him. I wasn't.

"Since her approval means so much more to you than mine, I assume you've asked her." I'd never heard Gran use this tone of voice, and I thought I was the only one she yelled at. Wyatt was welcome to it, though, as far as I was concerned. It sent icy shivers down my spine.

Wyatt laughed, but he kept up the staring contest with Gran while he did it. I would've been impressed if I wasn't so miffed with him. "She'd run for the hills if I asked her to marry me right now." His fingers tapped a staccato beat against the tan table. "No, I think I'll sneak up on her with the proposal." He shot me a rueful glance. "Though, you've made that a little harder, now."

She considered him for a long moment, and I started to sweat. If Gran said it was over, it was over. While I had no problem disobeying her, she was the all-powerful being in this town, and what she wanted done, got done. Wyatt would probably have to run with his tail between his legs and Cooper in tow by morning. Late afternoon at the latest.

"The grass in my yard is too long," she said finally, surprising the hell of out me. "It needs to be cut."

Wyatt nodded like this made perfect sense to him, like she hadn't just done a one eighty. I looked between them, wondering for the first time in my life if I was actually the sane one in the room. It was a novel experience that I don't wish to repeat.

"The house needs painting, too," he added.

She pursed her lips, inclining her head. "So it does."

Like a thunder cloud passing onto the next county, my grandmother's face cleared of all suspicion and coolness. She smiled—actually smiled— at Wyatt. Her face wasn't stuck in a permanent scowl, it seemed, though I'd assumed it had been for the seven years I'd known her.

Grandma rose from her seat, and Wyatt followed suit. They shook hands like businessmen after a big deal. Not used to feeling dumbfounded, I just sat there, wondering if I was still asleep in the hospital and this was all just a strange, nonsensical dream.

"It's decided, then," Gran said, and then left without another word to me or Wyatt.

“What’s decided?” I asked Wyatt warily.

He grinned and took me into his arms, only laughing when I tried to bite him on the shoulder to show my annoyance. His arms were too warm and comforting to shake off. Instead, I rested my head on his shoulder and leaned in.

“I’m not marrying you,” I told him, no longer sure it was true.

“How about a dance, then?” he asked, unperturbed.  “I hear you’ve got some funky moves.”

A Murder Most Rosy (Harper "Foxxy" Beck Series Book 3)

In the hard-to-find tourist trap, Waresville, supernatural occurrences— especially witches— are money in the town’s pockets. The town’s strange and bloody history coupled with magic shops and spooky tours that are statistically likely to leave you dead or missing are the only elements keeping Waresville afloat. So, when one of the local grade school teachers takes a fatal nosedive on school premises, no one cares beyond the usual cleaning expenses. No one, that is, except Harper "Foxxy" Beck, witch, not-so-amateur sleuth, and an altogether groovy gal. Harper’s yet to meet a case she doesn’t like, but this one is a far cry from her usual gig. For one, the police have labeled the teacher’s death a suicide. For another, it seems as though Kara Nittleman also died of natural causes. But that, in Waresville, is enough cause for concern and curiosity.

As the mystery twists out of Harper’s control, she’ll find plenty of suspects and very little concrete evidence. One such subject, a former foe in the police department, is determined to see Harper put off this case— or dead, whichever he can get away with. But mystery and death aren’t the only things on a witch’s mind. The vacancy left by Ms. Nittleman has to be filled, and her boyfriend’s son is quick to enlist her as the new director of his play— and of his love life. As if dealing with grade school crushes, murder, and mystery weren’t enough, Harper has to come to grips with her trust issues before it costs her not only her relationship with Wyatt Bennett, Waresville detective, but her life.

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Books by Raven Snow

Harper "Foxxy" Beck Series

Roller Rink Witchcraft
(Book 1)

Shake Your Green Thing
(Book 2)

A Murder Most Rosy
(Book 3)

Lainswich Witches Series

Greensmith Girls
(Book 1)