This Spells Disaster - Softcover

Martin, Tori Anne

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593548485 ISBN 13: 9780593548486

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A USA TODAY BESTSELLER!

“With classic rom-com hijinx and herbalist witchy vibes, this novel will have you happily spellbound.”—The Boston Globe

Fake dating gets a magical twist in this enchanting queer romantic comedy where a witch worries that the real feelings brewing between her and her crush were sparked by an accidental love potion, and the only way out of the disastrous spell is a healthy dose of the truth—drink up, witches.

Potion maker and self-proclaimed “messy witch” Morgan Greenwood is sure she was hexed at birth. Not only did she drunkenly offer to fake date the woman of her dreams during the biennial New England Witches’ festival, but Rory Sandler, spellcasting champion and brilliant elemental witch—for reasons known only to the Goddess—accepted. It’s like every good luck spell Morgan ever cast came through at once, and it doesn’t take a crystal ball to predict this charade will end with a broken heart.

Or is the magic between them real? As Morgan and Rory prepare to fool everyone at the festival, their relationship starts to feel a whole lot less fake—right until Morgan realizes she might have screwed up the common relaxation potion she made for Rory and given her a love potion instead, breaking one of the most sacred Witch Council Laws.

To fulfill her promise to Rory, Morgan must somehow keep playing pretend while under the watchful eyes of Rory’s family and legion of fans. But to break the love potion, she’ll also have to prove how incompatible she and Rory really are. For a screwup like her, ruining their relationship should be easy—except every day, Morgan is becoming more bewitched by Rory herself.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

USA Today bestselling author Tori Anne Martin lives in New England, where she collects pen names, tattoos, and hoodies in shades of gray and black. Previously, she collected degrees, including a doctorate in psychology, where she studied interpersonal power, consent, and sexual assault. She much prefers writing romance. If you can't find her online, it's because she's lost in the woods.

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1

It was the perfect night for a mess, and Morgan Greenwood was precisely the sort of witch who couldn't resist a good mess.

Surrounded by her two closest friends, and with lively music filling her ears, Morgan had no worries. So even though some potions were powerful enough that they ought to be forbidden, she swallowed a mouthful of liquid and damned the consequences. To do otherwise would be a waste of a sultry Friday evening. Or at least a Friday evening that was as sultry as it ever got in Maine, which wasn't saying much.

Morgan knew her potions. A talented witch could create one that would make a person spill their darkest secrets or one that could erase their most traumatic memories. But no witch had yet found a way to combine those two effects. No, leave it to the mundanes to have discovered the power of the one she held in her hands.

Tequila.

If it were magical, surely the Witch Council would have banned it. Like a truth potion, tequila could make a person blab all of their secrets. Like a memory elixir, it could make someone forget their pain. And if you were really unlucky, tequila might convince you to dance naked around a bonfire beneath the full moon. Not that Morgan would know about that last one. She'd never done it herself.

Or had she, and tequila being what it was, she couldn't remember?

Best not to ask.

August evenings at the Empty Chalice were a blur of people and sound, even if one was abstaining from tequila. Summer meant the coastal town of Harborage was packed with tourists, and Fridays in the summer meant many of them joined the locals at what was generally known as the town's "witch bar," so called for the uncreative reason that it was owned by a couple of witches. There wasn't a whole lot else to do in the evenings in Harborage. If it wasn't the Empty Chalice, it would be another bar, and the Empty Chalice was the best of the bunch, even for the witches who didn't come to gawk at the overpriced magical cocktails on offer.

Along the far wall, the windows had been removed to let in the salty ocean breeze, and in the opposite corner from where Morgan sat, a fiddler played a jaunty tune. Morgan could hear but not see her through the mass of bodies circulating beneath the bar's open-beam ceiling and the enchanted lights that twinkled above like stars. Those lights moved nightly to reflect the changing constellations, creating the impression that what was indoors was actually out.

But in they were, and despite the Atlantic's cooling gusts, the bar was warm with people and the air thick with barely contained chaotic energy. It was on a summer evening like this that the first witch had probably been born. On a summer evening like this, it was easy to believe anything could happen.

Especially when tequila got involved.

Morgan's head swam, though this was her first drink, and she grabbed another lobster nacho from the plate she was sharing. The lobster nachos were the reason actual witches flocked to the Empty Chalice, and they were twice as addictive on her empty stomach. Still, it was easier to blame the tequila for her head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton rather than accept that forgetting to eat lunch hadn't done her any favors. Or the fact that she'd stayed up too late last night because she'd gotten sucked into watching cat videos. It was totally not her fault that cats were cute.

Come to think of it, why hadn't she adopted a new cat after her beloved Charlie had died? She should do that, then maybe she wouldn't waste time watching other people's cat videos.

Wait, what had she been thinking about a moment ago?

"Are the drinks extra strong tonight?" Morgan asked, desperately seeking validation of her blamelessness from Hazel and Andy. In a pinch, Andy's boyfriend, Trevor, who was also at their table, would do.

Hazel quirked a red eyebrow in her direction. "Mine seems normal, but maybe Rory was being nice to you."

Her tone was as sticky sweet as the strawberry syrup in Morgan's margarita, and Morgan poked her in the shoulder. She would not rise to the bait.

Would not.

Damn it. She glanced at the bar.

Rory Sandler was putting on a show as she made a drink for a couple of tourists. Amber liquid flowed from her shaker, spiraling and twisting in the air before landing gently in the martini glass. With another flick of her wrist and a light tap on the glass's side, the pair's faces alighted with delight. Morgan couldn't see what Rory had done yet, but she could guess. She'd frozen half the drink, and knowing Rory, she'd turned the ice into something more than boring cubes. Sure enough, a golden heart slowly rose above the rim, then settled into place, floating on top of the cocktail. Rory slid the glass over to her customer.

Elemental magic was simple magic, in theory. Any halfway competent witch could do it. Boiling or freezing water, lighting or extinguishing candles-they were the first sorts of spells a young witch learned. Making a complex liquid dance to her tune, like Rory had, or freezing only part of the drink and doing so in complicated shapes-that was another matter. Although for someone with Rory's skills, no doubt it was child's play. The sort of thing she could do in her sleep. One did not become the youngest national spellcasting champion ever by performing Magic 101.

Morgan had seen Rory compete several times before she'd ever met her, and the amount of power she hid behind her dark, often downcast, eyes was astonishing. How she'd ended up in Harborage a year ago and why she was slinging drinks at the Empty Chalice instead of competing for world dominance were both mysteries that no one in town had the answers to.

In fact, now that Morgan considered it, the possibility of being served a drink by the Rory Sandler was almost certainly another reason tourists beelined for the Empty Chalice. Rory had probably autographed hundreds of cocktail napkins over the past year. And while Harborage's witches might have gotten over their fangirling, speculation over Rory's sudden departure from the competitive spellcasting world remained rife in the witch media. Witches were a nosy bunch.

Rory's dark eyes finally glanced Morgan's way, and Morgan whipped around in her seat, her cheeks flaming.

Hazel sighed with something that sounded uncomfortably like sympathy, and the snake tattooed around her left arm circled her light skin in agitation. "You could just ask her out."

The mere thought of it made Morgan want to crawl under the table, and she sipped the dregs of her margarita to cool off. "Not happening."

"She's really nice."

"I know."

It was simply irrelevant. Rory had joined the local coven when she moved to town, so Morgan saw her plenty. Talking to her, on the other hand . . . Morgan's tongue had a tendency to tie itself in knots if Rory was within earshot, and looking at her caused Morgan's stomach to do the same.

Objectively, Morgan would have sworn Rory was not her type. She was too quiet. Her hair was too boyishly short, and the contrast between it and her pale skin was too stark. She dressed too plainly, her mostly black and gray wardrobe too dreary for Morgan, who loved bright colors. But there was something about the few freckles around Rory's nose that made Morgan long to kiss them, and she could waste hours daydreaming about running her fingers through the crop of dark hair on top of Rory's head. She wanted to know if Rory ever truly laughed as loudly as she did herself, and what it would take to make that happen.

She was a fool, and so was Hazel for suggesting she ask Rory out. A nobody like her did not ask out Rory fucking Sandler.

"I don't know if she'd be interested in that sort of thing," Morgan mumbled, the same lie she used to deflect whenever her friends teased her about her...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593548485
• ISBN 13: 9780593548486
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 368
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar