A Tale Of Two Witches (Magic and Mayhem, #5) (eBook, ePUB)
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Three waxed cats, one Cookie Witch, a brazilian gone bad and the last name, Bermangoggleshitz… not the best ingredients for a successful spell. Or is it?Avoiding the truth has been working out just fine for most of my life.I'm finally happy. I have friends and a kangaroo shifter who adores me. Never in my twenty-nine witchy years did I think I would have a place to call home with people who truly cared.Now my BFF, Zelda, wants to have a chat. Can't crappy news wait?As soon as my varnished Virginia is mobile, I want to go home to my adorable little house I share with with the love of my ...
Three waxed cats, one Cookie Witch, a brazilian gone bad and the last name, Bermangoggleshitz… not the best ingredients for a successful spell. Or is it?
Avoiding the truth has been working out just fine for most of my life.
I'm finally happy. I have friends and a kangaroo shifter who adores me. Never in my twenty-nine witchy years did I think I would have a place to call home with people who truly cared.
Now my BFF, Zelda, wants to have a chat. Can't crappy news wait?
As soon as my varnished Virginia is mobile, I want to go home to my adorable little house I share with with the love of my life and my four semi-violent, adopted, gum-smacking chipmunk shifter sons.
But, noooooooo…
Instead of enjoying a bouncy romp of nookie with my marsupial man whose last name I should really find out, I have to deal with an odiferous, butt-ugly, dead-beat, evil warlock of a dad named Bermangoggleshitz-the very same douchecanoe that tried to kill my rodent children.
Not to mention, said sperm donor has called up a Legion of demons from the Underworld. Fanfreakintastic.
So armed with my questionable intellect, a shaky handle on the French language and a penchant for blowing up buildings, I'm gonna grab this problem by the nuts and squeeze-like a brazilian times…whoops, bazillion. That French gets me every time.
I will have my happily ever after no matter what or my name's not Sassy Louise…umm… Bermangoggleshitz.
Avoiding the truth has been working out just fine for most of my life.
I'm finally happy. I have friends and a kangaroo shifter who adores me. Never in my twenty-nine witchy years did I think I would have a place to call home with people who truly cared.
Now my BFF, Zelda, wants to have a chat. Can't crappy news wait?
As soon as my varnished Virginia is mobile, I want to go home to my adorable little house I share with with the love of my life and my four semi-violent, adopted, gum-smacking chipmunk shifter sons.
But, noooooooo…
Instead of enjoying a bouncy romp of nookie with my marsupial man whose last name I should really find out, I have to deal with an odiferous, butt-ugly, dead-beat, evil warlock of a dad named Bermangoggleshitz-the very same douchecanoe that tried to kill my rodent children.
Not to mention, said sperm donor has called up a Legion of demons from the Underworld. Fanfreakintastic.
So armed with my questionable intellect, a shaky handle on the French language and a penchant for blowing up buildings, I'm gonna grab this problem by the nuts and squeeze-like a brazilian times…whoops, bazillion. That French gets me every time.
I will have my happily ever after no matter what or my name's not Sassy Louise…umm… Bermangoggleshitz.
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