"If you're reading this, then I've kicked the bucket and you, no doubt, bid exactly six hundred and sixty six dollars for this trunk. Do yourself a favor and light up that joint. Shit is about to get heavy. Everything in here is absolutely what you think it is. My sister and I are/were witches. And if you bought this trunk because you felt drawn to it, then darling, so are you."
One night in 1994 when my sisters and I acquired a grimoire, our lives were changed forever.
If resumes were written according to my reading history … I'd be qualified to be an amateur sleuth, a monster hunter, a serial killer, a witch, a fortune teller, a cryptozoologist, a vampire dominatrix … and a monster shagger.
Actually, I own a bookstore. But after reading some magical text out loud, my sisters and I might be adding some of these to our resumes. Fingers crossed I get to shag the hot monster. Let's hope he's not a serial killer.
Warning: This book contains outbursts of graphic language, some violence, humor of various assortments, awesome middle aged witches, ghosts, a talking raven who loves tequila, a bit of mystery and whimsy, nostalgic vibes, and a very hot creature.
Tropes and possible triggers: monster sex, murder mystery, toy use, unique peen, slight age gap, second chance romance, midlife romance, drug use (Mary Jane), a tad of exhibitionism, light praise.
This is book one in the Primrose Cove series, each book is a standalone story with some returning characters. They do not need to be read in order.
