Witchy flash back, p.1
Witchy Flash Back, page 1
part #1 of Midlife Potions Series
Witchy Flash Back
A Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Midlife Potions
C. A. Phipps
Witchy Flash Back is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Witchy Flash Back Copyright © 2023 by C. A. Phipps
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Cover Copyright © 2022 by Melody Simmons
bookcoversbymelody.com
Many thanks to Suzanne.
💜
Contents
Witchy Flash Back
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Witchy Bad Blood
Recipes
Mince and Vegetable Pie
Also by C. A. Phipps
Books by Cheryl Phipps
About the Author
Witchy Flash Back
When is a witch not a witch?
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Jessica Lavender was a woman living a mediocre life when she discovers she is a witch, but there are many sides to this potion making store owner.
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Learning to harness her gifts she, is growing more powerful. Only something is missing. Her familiar insists she is a witch first, but her passion for baking can’t be denied and she finds herself at a crossroads.
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When her new neighbor looks guilty of murder, Jess wants to help clear his name, but there is more at stake than she realizes and it seems that the one person she needs to trust has been lying all this time.
* * *
Can she solve the crime without losing her family?
Midlife Potions
Witchy Awakening
Witchy Hot Spells
Witchy Flash Back
Witchy Bad Blood - preorder now!
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Chapter
One
“If you put the same effort into making potions as you do into your baking, we’d be a lot further along.”
The black cat swished his tail in disgust and Jessica Lavender gave him a dirty look. The early starts to practice her potions were wearing thin, with Maestro looked for any faults, which made her less than enthusiastic about trying something for the tenth time in a row.
“You and mom knew from the start that I’m a baker first and I’d rather be making pies than growing herbs.”
He shook his head and growled. “You are a witch first. Everything else comes second. Everything.”
“Says you.” Her snarky cat often reduced her to childish behavior, which at forty-five years old was frankly embarrassing. And yet, she couldn’t seem to stop him from getting under her skin. One thing she was proud of is that recently she had developed the ability to block him from reading her mind—mostly.
“Now that you have that out of your system will you please try again and this time concentrate.”
Jess sniffed and lifted the wand. “Existo!”
The little pot gave a shudder and a small green tendril pushed through the soil.
“There you go. Easy as Pie.”
He smiled as if she hadn’t been shut away in her mother’s gardening shed for hours practicing spells under his impatient supervision.
When Maestro began talking soon after Jess’s mom passed away, her mediocre life had melted away to be replaced by a witchyness they had kept secret from her.
In her new world, as she had come to think of it, a witch entered mid-life, bizarrely between 40 and 45 years of age. According to her cat, this was apparently the ideal time for them to come into their powers, as before this they might not use them responsibly or take the news in a good way.
Jess had definitely fallen into the latter camp and had fought against the whole idea. Only there had been nothing she could do about it. Though she was labeled a late-bloomer by the cat, she was getting more powerful—she could feel it. Now, here she was back in her small home town, a place she had vowed never to return to, running her mom’s Potions and Lotions store and endeavoring to corral those powers into a useful tool. All the while harboring a desire to open her own bakery.
She made great pies, a fact Maestro, her familiar and trainer couldn’t care less about. He had been a cute cat given to her by her mom when she turned 40. In one more twist she never saw coming, Maestro had also trained her mom. How old he was, she had no idea and he wasn’t saying.
And these weren’t the only weird things she had to contend with.
Her mom’s assistant was apparently also a witch. Though Jenny was only just 40, she was clearly exhibiting signs of her powers. The rub was, she still had no idea and Jess was expected to explain things when necessary and then train her. Jenny had no familiar and like many things, past and present, Jess did not have a proper explanation why.
A shimmering by the door gave way to Lissa Lavender. Her mom was stuck between worlds right now. It was partly Jess’s fault and partly her mom’s and Maestro’s for not sharing the rules of administering potions, but in another few months there would be an opportunity to make Lissa mortal again—if things went right this time, and if Jess learned how to be a better witch.
No pressure then.
“That is a glum face, darling girl. What’s upsetting you?” Lissa Lavender asked serenely—as serenely as a ghost could who often treated their midlife daughter as if she were still a child.
Maestro snorted. “Could be anything with Ms. Glass Half-Empty,”
“You mean what could be wrong apart from living a lie and having to listen to this moth-eaten bossy feline?”
Maestro hissed and stormed across the room to the door. Now that made Jess laugh. “Need a human to open that for you, pussycat?”
“Be careful, dear. He has a long memory,” her mom warned.
“Don’t I know it.” Jess huffed. “How am I going to train Jenny if I can’t get the simplest spells right?”
“Maestro informs me that you have managed some very well and you have time to perfect more. Besides, from what you both say, Jenny isn’t there yet.”
Jess nodded unhappily. “That’s true, but every day she has these premonitions and there are only so many ways I can put her off the scent when I have to ask her questions in case what she sees are warnings.”
“You’re handling it well enough dear and that reminds me, does she have your ability of smell?”
“I don’t think so. At least, she hasn’t mentioned it. It’s obvious that the premonitions are getting her down though.” Jess sighed. “Now she’s worried about everyone, and that sets people off when she asks them a gamut of questions in that earnest way Jenny has.”
Lissa shook her head. “That isn’t good. It will be too easy for her to slip into that over-protective mode which will eventually make her sick.”
“The way it happened to you, Mom?”
Lissa became a pale blue. “That’s right, dear.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up your problems.”
Her mom waved a hand. “It’s the truth and there is no harm in speaking it between us.”
Jess blinked. If only that were true. The more secrets she uncovered the more she understood plenty were still hidden. Nothing she could say would bring them into the open until her mom and Maestro were good and ready. Of course she knew they were trying to protect her—but from what? Or whom? It made her feel very insecure and a little off kilter, which had never happened as a baker in Portland. She knew exactly what was expected of her and she excelled at it.
To be thrust into the world of spells and potions at her age was making her anxious and the only time she hadn’t felt that way was when she was solving a couple of murders. That couldn’t be right…
Glancing out the opaque window, to keep out prying eyes, Jess saw a shadow near the door and shivered. Hurrying across the small shed she looked left and right through the side window. There appeared to be no one there, so maybe it was her imagination. Except, why did the smell of doom linger?
Chapter
Two
“Jessica? Are you there?”
Jess could have sworn the shadow she’d spied did not belong to her fairy-godmother shaped neighbor. “Coming, Mrs. Crandle.”
The short, round woman chuckled when Jess opened the door. “Goodness, that’s a bit formal.”
Jess laughed. “Sorry, Amy. It’s just when anyone calls me Jessica, it reminds me of being at school.”
“I know what you mean. When I hear ‘Mrs. Crandle’ I find myself looking for my mother.”
In all this time of knowing Amy, she realized that there had never been
“She did, bless her.” Amy winked. “She’d be nearly a hundred by now if she were alive.”
Awkwardly Jess put a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“It is sad, as you know, to lose your mom, but mine’s been gone a very long time. The sadness eventually lessens and then you can remember the good times better. At least, that’s what I think.”
Jess nodded thoughtfully. Who would remember her when she was gone?
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Barring any silly accidents, witches live a very long time.”
Jess quickly shut her mind from Maestro’s rude interjection, slightly embarrassed that she had slid into silly melancholy and he had witnessed it.
“Are you okay dear?” Amy looked worried. “Have I upset you?”
“Not at all. I guess we all lose the ones we love eventually.”
“That is true and why we must forge close friendships.” Amy beamed at her. “Some people would think that only makes it harder, but where would we be without love and our memories?”
Amy could be blunt at times, and was a dreadful gossip, but she really did have a heart of gold. “Speaking of good friends, how are you and Daphne getting on?”
“What you mean is, has the old curmudgeon forgiven me for telling that evil developer that she was in financial trouble a few weeks back?”
Amy had a happy knack of making things seem less or more dramatic depending on her own interpretation of events. The developer was in fact killed and it had been an awful time.
“Unfortunately,” Amy continued, “Daphne has the memory of an elephant and can hold a grudge until doomsday. However, I like to think I have worn her down. How can she not forgive her best friend?”
The batting eyelashes made Jess snort. “I imagine it would be very difficult indeed.”
“Exactly. Now, I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to take offense.”
Jess sniffed and got the distinct odor of snapdragons. Also known as calf's snout or lion's mouth, snapdragons symbolize lies, deception, and indiscretion. The irony is that the flower is used to avoid deception, break hexes, and protect someone from negativities.
“I’ll do my best, Amy, but no promises.”
“You sound just like your mother.” Amy smiled, taking any sting out of the words which, at one time, Jess would have heard as an insult. “Fair enough,” Amy continued. “It’s about Jenny. She’s been saying some very odd things and I do remember your mom getting a little upset when people didn’t believe her about…” She hesitated. “Certain things she might have a strong opinion on.”
Jess tried hard not to flinch. She had known this day was coming. From the increasingly odd looks customers gave Jenny, they had to be worried about her warnings or insistence over things they should or shouldn’t do. She stalled for time to think of a way out of this. “What kind of things?”
“She told me that I must be wary of a man in a suit.”
Jess laughed and it wasn’t forced. “You know she has a thing about men in suits. In fact the only one she trusts is Theo and that’s probably because he’s a lawyer.”
“A lawyer she’s sweet on,” Amy tittered.
“Apparently we all know that, except Jenny,” Jess agreed.
“So you don’t think I should be worried about a man in a suit?”
“Not unless he’s the tax man.”
Amy paled. “You don’t think she meant the warning for Daphne, do you?”
Jess blinked. Daphne Dennison owned a small farm and took care of homeless and often injured animals. She was in trouble financially as Amy had said. “I guess a visit from the tax man is likely. I’m just not sure why Jenny would tell you instead, if that were the case?”
Amy drew her 5 feet as high as she could. “Because I’m Daphne’s closest friend and Jenny knows I’ll do anything to protect my friends.”
“There is that.” Jess chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “Perhaps she’s simply too scared to broach the subject with Daphne—bearing in mind how she reacted when that property developer tried to force her to sell.”
Amy shivered. “We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I couldn’t be sad for the Abernathy man. Jed is another matter.”
Daphne’s other close friend, Jed, had taken it upon himself to kill Floyd Abernathy when he broke into her barn and was about to burn the place down—with all the animals inside. After Floyd’s death, his son then tried again and this time Jess and Officer Brodie Fine had intervened and saved the day. Unfortunately, Jed was now in prison for the murder and that was indeed very sad.
“Poor Jed didn’t mean to kill Abernathy,” Amy continued with a wobble to her voice. “And they have reduced the charges, but it’s likely we won’t see him outside of jail for a very long time. Daphne is distraught over it.”
Jess nodded. “There’s nothing anyone can do about Jed, but how can we help Daphne?”
Amy’s bottom lip quivered. “I wish I had some money saved. I would give it all to her if I had any to spare to help keep the farm going and give the animals a chance for a loving home. Especially the old ones. It’s not like anyone would take them on if Daphne had to sell. It’s a bit like old people isn’t it? Once you’re a certain age, it’s like you don’t or shouldn’t exist.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jess told her, but Amy simply raised an eyebrow. “Let me think on what we can do to raise some money.” Not sure how she would do that, but happy to be off the subject of old people and Jenny, Jess shut the shed door and locked it. “I need to get down to the store, so let’s get together in a day or two to discuss any ideas.”
Amy clapped her hands. “Excellent. I knew you would be the right person to ask for help.”
Jess watched her disappear up the path to her house next door and shook her head. It’s not like she was rolling in spare cash. She had a condo up for sale in Portland, but the money from that was earmarked for something else. Perhaps she could make something and sell it at the store with proceeds donated to Daphne’s cause. The animals were loved and cared for as children or family and the work Daphne did was important. She even had a gravesite at the edge of the farm where she buried the dead—including any roadkill she may come across. Now, that was dedication.
From her path down this side of the house, she could see up to the road. Just then a man in a suit walked by.
Chapter
Three
It was no more than a fleeting glance and when it registered, Jess went cold all over. She ran up the path and, as if she had called for him, Maestro ran from the house and alongside her. They got to the front fence in time to see him go down the path next door.
Jess gasped. Not into Amy’s property—to Gerald Urwin’s! And he was long dead. “Who do you think that is? As far as we know, Gerald had no family.”
“No need to panic.” Maestro yawned. “The place is probably on the market.”
“So, he could be an agent looking to sell it.”
“Or an interested buyer.”
“Hmmm.”
Maestro gave her a side-eye. “You always make that sound when you’re concocting an elaborate story or want to disagree, but you’re not sure why.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. What’s on your mind?”
She looked down and grinned. “I get such a thrill when you ask me that, instead of just reading it. I’m getting good at blocking you. Go on, admit it.”
