A Spell For Trouble

July 9, 2020 | By Women Writers Women Books | Reply More

Esme Addison’s debut, A Spell for Trouble (July 7, Crooked Lane Hardcover) is an exciting cozy with a bit of a sci-fi twist including witches, potions, and mermaids.

When Aleksandra Daniels accepts the invitation to help in her estranged family’s apothecary shop in Bellamy Bay, she brushes off the strange rumors swirling around her family. As if they could really be magical healers descended from mermaids. That is, until her aunt Lidia is arrested for poisoning a local. In a quest to prove she was framed, Alex digs up secrets long buried, and learns that some may even be worth killing to protect.

The book has been featured by Ms Career Girl, Parade, Bookish, Medium, Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and Kirkus Reviews.

“This cozy, with its well-developed characters and charming seaside setting, and framed by plant and mermaid lore, will appeal to those who enjoy stories with a touch of magic.” —Booklist

“[A] sparkling debut…For those who love cozies, romance with an edge, and magical adventures.” —Kirkus

“A crafty plot, distinctive characters, and a quirky small-town setting…Cozy fans will be more than satisfied.” —Publishers Weekly

We are delighted to share this excerpt!

A Spell for Trouble Excerpt

The house at 136 Cypress Lane didn’t look like trouble—quite the opposite. The seafoam-green Queen Anne was well kept, with rows of purple tulips blooming beside the wraparound porch and daffodils leading up to the brick walk to the front door. Alex stepped out of the SUV and onto the sidewalk. Everything about this place was lovely. So why had her father insisted for years that she not set foot within miles of Bellamy Bay?

“Miss? Do you want me to get the dog?” The taxi driver gestured uncertainly at the large German shepherd grinning at Alex through the back window.

“Oh, sorry! I’ll get her.” Alex understood how fierce her dog appeared to others, even if Athena was a big baby, deep down. “Come on, girl. You need to stretch your legs.”

Once the dog was free from her harness, she leapt from the vehicle. Alex admired her black-and-brown fur as she sniffed the area, pausing at the base of the mailbox.

Dad. The feeling of guilt suddenly weighed her down. He would not have approved of this trip. “We’re not going,” he would tell her when the invitation came to visit for Christmas or Thanks- giving, his face darkening at the mere thought of seeing her aunt and cousins. Inevitably he’d produce an excuse for not heading down south and spending the holidays in Bellamy Bay. Still, the invitations came year after year, and so did his grumbling remarks. They don’t mean it. They’re just being polite. They’re not like us. Trust me, you don’t want to go there. Alex had the impression that, for some reason, he’d blamed her aunt for her mother’s death. But that tragedy was no one’s fault.

“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered. She was sure he’d meant well enough, but now that she was all alone in the world and unemployed to boot, Alex lacked the fortitude to decline an invitation to visit her only relatives, no matter how estranged. Besides, clean ocean air and a break from the mayhem of Manhattan were just what she needed.

She waited while the driver popped the trunk and hurried around to the back. “Do you need help with the bags?” he asked.

“I don’t want to trouble you.” She struggled to lift her largest suitcase, and it fell to the road with a thud.

“It’s no trouble,” he replied. They’d been riding together for about an hour east since he’d picked her up at the airport in the port city of Wilmington, North Carolina, and had become friendly. He quickly emptied the trunk, piling her small suitcase, duffel bag, and an old backpack neatly on the sidewalk. “I can help you to carry it—”

Alex held up a hand. “No, I insist. You have a long drive back, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

He gave her a nod and a smile. “I appreciate that. You take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

Alex lifted the strap of her duffel bag and hefted it over one shoulder. She faced the Queen Anne. How long had it been since she’d seen her ciocia—her aunt—Lidia and her cousins Minka and Kamila? Not since her mother died, which made it . . . at least twenty years. What would she say to them? She tried to ignore the nervous twinges in her stomach, focusing instead on maneuvering the other pieces of luggage so that she could carry everything inside in one trip. She had one suitcase in each hand, a duffel on her back, and the backpack strapped to her front as she wobbled slowly up the walkway.

Without warning, the front door swung open and a voice boomed, “Well, look at you.”

“Ciocia Lidia.” Alex smiled.

How was it possible that Lidia had barely aged in over two decades? She was stunning. Her ivory skin was smooth and her long, blue-black hair sparkled with threads of silver. Alex paused as her aunt turned her bright-blue eyes toward her. She swallowed a lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “It’s so nice to see you,” Alex managed, her voice weakened by unexpected longing.

“Oh honey, you don’t know how many years I’ve waited for this. I just—look at you. Look at how gorgeous you are.” Lidia gripped Alex by both shoulders. “Minka! Kamila! You’ve got to come out here!” Lidia paused to sigh. “Oh, Aleksandra. If you don’t look just like your mother.”

A pleasant warmth crept over her skin. She’d loved her father dearly, but he’d nearly banned any talk of her mother after her death. It was nice to hear her mother mentioned in conversation and not feel like she was doing something wrong.

“Alex is here!” A bright, energetic voice rang out as a woman with a head of shoulder-length chocolate-brown curls came bursting out of the house. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did,” Lidia laughed, and stepped aside so that her daughter could pull Alex into a bear hug.

“Do you remember me?” The young woman stepped back to give Alex a full view of her round face and pretty dark-blue eyes. She was wearing a pink sweater and blue jeans. “I’m Minka.”

“Of course I remember you,” Alex said with fondness. Twenty- four months younger than her own twenty-eight years, Minka had been the baby of the group. “Last time I was here, you told me your doll had a fever and you made me crush herbs for her with a mortar and pestle.”

Her younger cousin giggled, delighted. “I remember that. Do you still use herbal remedies?”

“What?” Alex snorted. “No, of course not. Unless Tylenol counts as herbal?”

“Bad move, mentioning Tylenol,” a tall, athletic woman with a caramel-blonde ponytail said, approaching with a grin. “Mom and Minka run an herbal apothecary downtown, a few blocks from here. Modern medicine is a curse word in their house.”

Alex recognized her instantly as Kamila, her cousin who was two years older than her and the former ringleader of the trio during her summers at the beach. She had the same swagger she’d always had, and she’d grown into a woman with girl-next-door beauty. Alex flushed, afraid she’d already offended her family. “I didn’t mean anything—”

Minka grinned at her sister. “Don’t start trouble, Kam. And don’t you listen to her,” she said to Alex. “She’s a hard-nosed cop.” Kamila ignored her sister and leaned in to embrace Alex. She was wearing running shorts and a tank top covering an athletic bra, as if she’d come straight from the gym.

“I didn’t know you were a police officer,” Alex said.

“And last we heard, you were working in risk management,” Kamila replied. “Is that right?”

Alex nodded. “That’s correct.”

Grinning, Kamila cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure there’s a joke in that somewhere.”

Alex smiled. “Go ahead, I’m not offended. People who strive for risk-averse lives are statistically healthier and have a higher life expectancy. There’s tons of studies to prove that.”

Her cousin laughed. “In my experience, life is more exciting when you take chances. Otherwise, what’s the point of living?”

Alex opened her mouth to tell her cousin that ever since her mother had died, she’d tried to live her life as cautiously as possible; how else could she avoid danger? But she changed her mind when she saw her cousin smiling down at her dog. Why ruin the mood with her prudent philosophy on life? She smiled as Kamila reached down to allow the German shepherd to smell her hand. “Is this your baby?”

“Yes. Her name is Athena. Dad raised her as a puppy. She was supposed to be a police dog.”

“Supposed to be?” Minka said, and dropped to her knees to invite the dog over, but Athena remained aloof.

“Sorry about that. She’s a little concerned that people keep hugging me,” Alex explained, and smoothed the ridge of fur that was standing behind Athena’s neck. “It’s all right, they’re family,” she assured her, and Athena lowered her ears and crept toward Minka. “She went through a year of Schutzhund training, but she was much too friendly to be a K-9.”

As if on cue, Athena rolled onto her back and allowed Minka and Kamila to scratch her belly. “Schutzhund is attack-dog training,” Kamila explained to Minka as Athena wriggled happily in the grass.

“Yeah, can you tell she’s a trained killer?” Alex chuckled. “But that’s only one component of Schutzhund, and the one Athena happened to fail at. Fortunately, she’s pretty good at listening to basic commands. And she’s just over two years old, so she’s pretty calm.” Alex watched the dog with fondness. She’d taken over her care after her father died, and Athena was her last link to him.

—

Ever since Esme discovered Nancy Drew, she’s wanted to solve mysteries. As a mystery author, she’s finally found a way to make that dream come true. A former military spouse, Esme lives in Raleigh, NC with her family. When she’s not writing or dreaming up new mysteries for her sleuths to stumble upon, you can find her dancing her calories away in Zumba, patronizing her local bookstores or visiting the beach, the mountains and all historical sites in between. Learn more about Esme at https://esmeaddison.com and follow her on Goodreads, Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @EsmeAddison.