A witch and a rookie detective versus a gruesome killer. This isn’t gonna end well…
When Joy finds the body of a witch on Agedale beach, she becomes suspect number one in the girl’s murder. Head witch Paulina will do anything to make sure Joy is locked in a prison cell for the rest of her life. Joy’s only hope at getting out is her ex, the newly appointed law enforcement of their supernatural town.
As the only investigator in town, Gabi Pride is responsible for tracking down a witch killer. If she fails, not only will she lose her job and fail to follow in her parents’ footsteps, but Joy will be sent down for a crime Gabi is convinced she’s innocent of. If Gabi doesn’t act fast, the murderer will take another witch’s life. And next time it could be one of Joy’s coven.
Fae Witch is the first book in a new urban fantasy series full of magic, murder, and sinister supernaturals.
Get notified when Book 2 releases here: http://eepurl.com/Yn1vn
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Joy
The word naughty was carved deep into the dead girl’s cheek, the skin peeling back to expose muscle and bone. Beside her, and almost worse than the gruesome sight of the cut, was the girl’s wand. Slim and ebony and snapped into two pieces, jagged splinters on the ends. As soon as Joy Mackenzie’s mind registered what she was seeing, she skittered away, tripping over her feet and falling onto her ass on the grassy sand dune. Her breathing quickly ran out of control.
Bile rose into Joy’s throat as she looked and looked at the girl, unable to tear her eyes away even as her stomach wrenched against her breakfast. She hadn’t thought … she’d thought it was Old Josie, passed out on the beach again after one too many sherries but …
Joy bent over as her stomach cramped and she was violently sick into the sand.
Wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her now very sandy coat, Joy looked to the blocky yellow hut of the nature reserve where she worked. It was hard sometimes to separate it from the beach and sand dunes that cradled it but white light caught on the windows as Joy turned towards the building, like a divine figure had sensed her desperation and sent someone to help. But Joy was opening up the reserve today and there would be no one to help.
Clumsy, her eyes fixed on that yellow hut so as not to return to the dead girl, Joy climbed to her feet, her stomach roiling again as her boots slipped on the sand. What she really wanted was to go home and bolt all her locks. But she couldn’t leave this girl, this … body, here. It wasn’t right, and Joy had always tried to do the right thing, no matter how difficult it was.
Joy fumbled in her pocket for her phone and, taking deep breaths to settle her sickness, scrolled through her contacts to a number she hadn’t used in years.
There hadn’t been a murder in this town as long as Joy had been alive. Back in the seventies, people used to be killed weekly, the victims of inter-species fights, fae gang wars, or personal grudges, but Clover Pride had stated herself as law enforcement years ago, later joined by her husband, Bo. There were no official laws for the supernatural community of Agedale, although head witch Paulina’s word was as good as binding, but a rush of killings from rival groups of haughty fae and peacekeeping elves meant someone had to step in, and Clover Pride had been one of the most powerful elves in the North. She had somehow garnered respect from every species that lived in town and, with her husband, they were as close as the community came to a policeman, investigator, law enforcer, and problem solver all rolled into one.
But Clover Pride had died years ago—Joy still remembered the shock and standstill of Agedale as the news spread—and Bo had been injured on the job and forced to retire a year ago. Joy had known the break-ins would start again, the inter-species spats, but … murder?
With the word cut into the baby-faced teenager’s cheek, so fresh and violent in Joy’s mind, even as she faced away, there was no chance this was an accident.
Joy pulled the collar of her coat, a fluffy, oversized grey thing, further up her neck and ducked against the salty wind as she held her phone to her ear.
“Hi, sorry, it’s Joy—Joy Mackenzie. I didn’t know who else I should call but I’ve found a … there’s a girl, on the beach near my work, the reserve on the western edge, the yellow one with the solar panels on the roof, and there’s—”
“Joy,” said Bo Pride calmly. “Breathe. What do you mean there’s a girl?”
“She’s … dead. I mean—I didn’t check, I was going to, I thought it was Josie so I didn’t think to check her pulse, but there’s …” Joy took a breath, but it was little more than a scrape of air. “I think she’s been killed.”
The word naughty was carved deep into the dead girl’s cheek, the skin peeling back to expose muscle and bone. Beside her, and almost worse than the gruesome sight of the cut, was the girl’s wand. Slim and ebony and snapped into two pieces, jagged splinters on the ends. As soon as Joy Mackenzie’s mind registered what she was seeing, she skittered away, tripping over her feet and falling onto her ass on the grassy sand dune. Her breathing quickly ran out of control.
Bile rose into Joy’s throat as she looked and looked at the girl, unable to tear her eyes away even as her stomach wrenched against her breakfast. She hadn’t thought … she’d thought it was Old Josie, passed out on the beach again after one too many sherries but …
Joy bent over as her stomach cramped and she was violently sick into the sand.
Wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her now very sandy coat, Joy looked to the blocky yellow hut of the nature reserve where she worked. It was hard sometimes to separate it from the beach and sand dunes that cradled it but white light caught on the windows as Joy turned towards the building, like a divine figure had sensed her desperation and sent someone to help. But Joy was opening up the reserve today and there would be no one to help.
Clumsy, her eyes fixed on that yellow hut so as not to return to the dead girl, Joy climbed to her feet, her stomach roiling again as her boots slipped on the sand. What she really wanted was to go home and bolt all her locks. But she couldn’t leave this girl, this … body, here. It wasn’t right, and Joy had always tried to do the right thing, no matter how difficult it was.
Joy fumbled in her pocket for her phone and, taking deep breaths to settle her sickness, scrolled through her contacts to a number she hadn’t used in years.
There hadn’t been a murder in this town as long as Joy had been alive. Back in the seventies, people used to be killed weekly, the victims of inter-species fights, fae gang wars, or personal grudges, but Clover Pride had stated herself as law enforcement years ago, later joined by her husband, Bo. There were no official laws for the supernatural community of Agedale, although head witch Paulina’s word was as good as binding, but a rush of killings from rival groups of haughty fae and peacekeeping elves meant someone had to step in, and Clover Pride had been one of the most powerful elves in the North. She had somehow garnered respect from every species that lived in town and, with her husband, they were as close as the community came to a policeman, investigator, law enforcer, and problem solver all rolled into one.
But Clover Pride had died years ago—Joy still remembered the shock and standstill of Agedale as the news spread—and Bo had been injured on the job and forced to retire a year ago. Joy had known the break-ins would start again, the inter-species spats, but … murder?
With the word cut into the baby-faced teenager’s cheek, so fresh and violent in Joy’s mind, even as she faced away, there was no chance this was an accident.
Joy pulled the collar of her coat, a fluffy, oversized grey thing, further up her neck and ducked against the salty wind as she held her phone to her ear.
“Hi, sorry, it’s Joy—Joy Mackenzie. I didn’t know who else I should call but I’ve found a … there’s a girl, on the beach near my work, the reserve on the western edge, the yellow one with the solar panels on the roof, and there’s—”
“Joy,” said Bo Pride calmly. “Breathe. What do you mean there’s a girl?”
“She’s … dead. I mean—I didn’t check, I was going to, I thought it was Josie so I didn’t think to check her pulse, but there’s …” Joy took a breath, but it was little more than a scrape of air. “I think she’s been killed.”