The Mag and Clara Balefire Mysteries: Books 1-3 by ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn

Author:ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-08-22T22:00:00+00:00

The End

Chapter One

“Unbelievable,” Margaret Balefire muttered as she raised a pair of magically-enhanced high-resolution binoculars to her eyes and studied something across the street. Her sister, Clara, wondered how she could see anything at all, eyelids narrowed to slits as they were.

“What now? Is Mrs. Green not picking up after her Corgi again?” Mag tended to take the watch half of the term neighborhood watch to the extreme, even though she’d never be caught dead joining such an organization. In fact, the only group to which she deigned to claim membership was the local witch’s coven—and even then, Mag participated only grudgingly.

She cocked her head toward Clara and directed a glare in her sister’s direction. “No, Miss Smarty Pants, it’s Taylor Dean, that mailman of ours. He just put Georgia Macomb’s package under the rain gutter, and it’s pouring outside. Yesterday he left our mailbox door open and the check for that console table I sold last week got completely soaked. I had to use a drying charm, and it was still wrinkled so badly the bank cashier gave me a dirty look.”

“Are you sure the look was about the check or the fact that you like to bring her half the morning deposit in quarters? I know you think I’m too uptight about using magic for personal gain, but doesn’t irritating the teller count as mischief?” Clara shot back.

“It counts as entertainment, Mag said, adjusting the binoculars, “which is in short supply around here. Stop being such a downer.”

Clara raised one eyebrow at the statement and opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but the bell tinkled above the door of the shop, signaling the entrance of a customer.

Clara turned her attention to the new arrival and offered the harried-looking middle-aged woman a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Balms and Bygones. I’m Clara, how can I help you?”

“Angela Sinclair,” the woman nodded, looking around. “Nice to meet you. I hear you carry the best anti-aging face cream this side of Port Harbor. That true?” The customer, who Clara only vaguely recognized, looked skeptical as she took in the contents of the shop. Since moving to Harmony and opening the store a few months prior, Mag and Clara had been asked why they’d chosen to peddle the odd combination of botanicals and antiques at least a hundred times—basically, by just about every person in town.

Clara shrugged off the unspoken insult and instead forced the corners of her lips into an even deeper smile, “You’ve heard correctly; I make all the products myself, with locally-sourced ingredients. And my mother, Margaret, deals in antiques. We can sell you a beauty arsenal, plus a cupboard to keep it all in.”

Proving true the adage that whatever a witch sends out into the world comes back to her threefold, Angela Sinclair caught Clara’s infectious good mood and cracked an answering grin. “I’m not in the market for furniture, but show me what you’ve got that can help with these crow’s feet.”

While Clara peddled her wares, Mag returned

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