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    Nice Witches Don't Swear: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Washington Witches (Magical Washington)
    Nice Witches Don't Swear: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Washington Witches (Magical Washington)
    Nice Witches Don't Swear: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Washington Witches (Magical Washington)
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    Nice Witches Don't Swear: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Washington Witches (Magical Washington)

    By Mindy Klasky

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A fast-paced, fun-loving adventure…an experience you won't soon forget! —Goodreads Reviewer CB

     

    Librarian-witch Jane Madison is ready for a road trip!

     

    In the last four months, Jane has learned how to work spells, read runes, and bind crystals. She's ready for a getaway weekend with her best friend.

     

    Heading to a nice, sedate Shakespeare festival, Jane never expected to drive straight into the mother of all thunderstorms. And she never imagined she would discover a treasured book on witchcraft in a tiny local library. She never dreamed she'd run into ravening, rampaging honey badgers. (Honey badgers?!?)

     

    Spells work differently in Assjacket, West Virginia—and honey badgers aren't the worst thing lurking in the shadows. How quickly can Jane forge a path through the magic and mayhem? 

     

    "Nice Witches Don't Swear" is a cross-over between Mindy Klasky's Magical Washington world and Robyn Peterman's Magic and Mayhem universe.

     

    Magical Washington includes The Washington Witches Series, the Washington Vampires Series, the Washington Warders, and the Washington Medical: Vampire Ward Series:

     

    Girl's Guide to Witchcraft
    Sorcery and the Single Girl
    Magic and the Modern Girl
    Single Witch's Survival Guide
    Joy of Witchcraft
    Capital Magic
    "Dreaming of a Witch Christmas"
    "Nice Witches Don't Swear"

     

    Fright Court
    Law and Murder
    High Stakes Trial
    "Stake Me Out to the Ball Game"

     

    The Library, the Witch, and the Warder

     

    The Witch Doctor Is In
    Fae's Anatomy
    The Lady Doctor is a Vamp

     

    110222mkm

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRes Ipsa Press
    Release dateAug 27, 2018
    ISBN9781386017349
    Nice Witches Don't Swear: Magic and Mayhem Universe: Washington Witches (Magical Washington)
    Author

    Mindy Klasky

    Mindy Klasky learned to read when her parents shoved a book in her hands and told her that she could travel anywhere in the world through stories. She never forgot that advice. When Mindy isn't "traveling" through writing books, she quilts, cooks and tries to tame the endless to-be-read shelf in her home library. You can visit Mindy at her Web site, www.mindyklasky.com.

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    Reviews for Nice Witches Don't Swear

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    • 5/5
      This was a really good book but I dont understand why the girls memory was wiped out. She helped Zelda and Baba Yaga but they wiped her memories which is not cool.

    Book preview

    Nice Witches Don't Swear - Mindy Klasky

    1

    NICE WITCHES DON’T SWEAR

    Mindy Klasky

    2

    The best road trips are the ones you don’t plan.

    That’s what I told myself as I shoved two full-size suitcases, a duffle bag stuffed with shoes, and a bag of emergency mojito supplies into the trunk of my grandmother’s Lincoln Town Car. Sure, I could have narrowed things down a bit. Kept myself to half a dozen changes of clothes for the weekend. Taken only eight pairs of shoes for the four-day trip. Left behind the lime and mint and rum altogether.

    But where’s the spontaneity in that?

    No holds were barred. I was skipping town with Melissa White, my best friend. We were two wild women, hitting the road for a four-day weekend of debauchery and carousing. We were free of all responsibility—no library for me, no bakery for Melissa. And most importantly, not a whisper of a hint of a scintilla of witchcraft.

    That’s right. I’m a witch. I’ll spare you the details—suffice to say I spent the past four months learning how to work spells, read runes, bind crystals, and all sorts of other magical fun and games. I had a familiar, Neko, who supposedly bolstered my powers, when he wasn’t off pursuing the man of his dreams. And I had a warder, David, who put the brakes on anything fun I wanted to do with magic. And I’d discovered that just about every application of my new-found powers was illegal fun, in David’s book.

    So, yeah. I was ready for a girl’s night out with Melissa. Make that a girl’s weekend out. But despite the mojito fixings clanking around in the trunk, we weren’t exactly wild and crazy rule-breakers. We were actually heading toward the Shenandoah Shakespeare Theater, in scenic Granite Valley, West Virginia.

    What can I say? Melissa and I were lifelong Shakespeare nuts. And the SST was staging a production of Timon of Athens. Worst Shakespeare Play Ever, said a lot of critics. That’s why neither Melissa nor I had ever seen a production. So we were hitting the road, big-time—four days of being foot-loose and fancy-free, all in service of the bard. We didn’t have tickets yet, but there was no chance the show would be sold out. It was Timon, after all.

    Time to hit the road. At least it would be, as soon as I drove my grandmother’s car over to Melissa’s tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked. I turned around to give Gran a hug. Thanks again, I said, jangling my set of her car keys.

    Just make me a promise, dear.

    Oh, no. Not another one of Gran’s promises. She spent the better part of her spare time reading terrifying articles: Ten Things In Your Bedroom That Will Kill You By Midnight. This Woman Went Skydiving Naked And You Won’t Believe What Happened Next. The One Food You Should Never Eat—And It’s In Your Refrigerator Now.

    Gran called me after each new discovery.

    Promise you won’t keep baby powder on your nightstand, dear.

    Promise you’ll carry a flashlight the next time you go skydiving, dear.

    Promise you won’t eat fermented sheep brains, dear.

    Over the years, I’d learned it was a lot easier to make the promises than it was to argue about their basic premises. Making promises saved a lot of time. And time was increasingly of the essence—I was supposed to pick up my best friend for our road trip extravaganza in less than fifteen minutes.

    I promise, I said to Gran, reaching out to hug her again.

    You haven’t even heard what I’m asking, she said, her voice somewhere between a challenge and a sob.

    I forced myself to take a calm breath. Sorry, Gran, I said.

    After raising me for more than twenty-five years, Gran had mastered the art of accepting my apology. She only pursed her lips a little as she said, Promise me you won’t sleep in any treehouses.

    Immediately, I imagined trying to haul myself up the trunk of a gigantic oak tree, teetering on rustic steps nailed into the trunk. I pictured a giant No Boys Allowed sign rattling in a gust of wind. I was one-hundred-percent confident I wouldn’t miss the lure of treehouse living. Sure, Gran, I said. I promise.

    I wouldn’t ordinarily ask, but I read an article about a luxury hotel in Botswana, where a couple was attacked by an enraged elephant who kept them from reaching ground for over a week.

    Melissa and I didn’t plan on dropping by the African continent during our long weekend. And I was pretty sure we wouldn’t run into any enraged elephants. It seemed like a safe bet to assure Gran. No treehouses. Cross my heart.

    Gran brushed a feathery kiss against my cheek and stepped back. I gunned the Town Car out of the garage before she could come up with anymore obstacles to my much-needed getaway weekend.

    Melissa was waiting for me in front of her bakery, Cake Walk. Where’s your suitcase? I asked, as I double-parked in front of the colonial brick building.

    Melissa twisted so I could see the beach bag she’d slung over her shoulder.

    That’s it? We’ll be gone four days!

    I think I’ll manage, she said, her lips twisted into a wry grin. If I run low on anything, I bet I can borrow from you. She tossed her bag onto the back seat, then climbed into the front. The scents of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from a pink pasteboard box that she balanced on her knees.

    Please tell me there are Bunny Bites in there.

    She laughed, knowing how much I loved the miniature carrot cake treats that she served by the dozen in the bakery. Of course. Along with a fresh batch of Devil’s Nips. And I tossed in some Almond Lust and Lust After Dark.

    "Have I ever mentioned that you’re my best friend in the

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