#Review - The Late-Night Witches by Auralee Wallace #Fantasy #Contemporary

Series: Standalone
Format: Paperback, 400 pages
Release Date: August 19, 2025
Publisher: Ace
Source: Publisher
Genre: Fantasy / Contemporary

An enchantingly warm and funny novel about family, love lost and found, discovering who you are, and how difficult it is to slay a vampire from the beloved national bestselling author of the TikTok sensation In the Company of Witches.

Cassie Beckett’s life is anything but magical. With a wild younger sister, three unruly kids, and an absent husband, she’s really not looking forward to the witching month of October. At least the gorgeous, foggy Prince Edward Island is always quiet.

That is, until the vampires arrive.

As the creatures sink their teeth into Cassie’s tenuous grip on normalcy, she’s forced to come face-to-face with long–disregarded family secrets. The legacy gifts her with power, but also a lofty responsibility: rid the island of vampires, or let them win. (Both options suck, in more ways than one.)

Armed with her family, newfound friends, and a baby in a spectacularly garlicky onesie, Cassie must learn what it is to be a witch and how to fight for what she loves before time runs out. Because on Halloween night, the stakes will be higher than ever before...and it’s up to Cassie to finish what the witches that came generations before her started.

Auralee Wallace’s The Late-Night Witches is a blend of cozy fantasy, heartfelt family dynamics, and supernatural thrills. The novel follows Cassie Beckett, a beleaguered mother of three on Prince Edward Island, whose already chaotic life takes a fantastical turn when vampires invade her quiet town. Cassie Beckett is an overwhelmed single mother juggling three unruly children, a wild younger sister named Eliza, and an absent husband who’s off doing humanitarian work. 

Living on the foggy, picturesque Prince Edward Island, she dreads the chaos of October, a month synonymous with Halloween mischief. Her hopes for a quiet season are shattered when vampires descend upon her community, forcing Cassie to confront long-buried family secrets. She discovers she’s part of a generational witch legacy, endowed with magical powers but burdened with the daunting task of ridding the island of vampires—or facing dire consequences. 

Armed with her family, newfound friends, and a baby in a hilariously garlicky onesie, Cassie must embrace her witchy heritage and fight for what she loves before a high-stakes Halloween showdown. Cassie is a flawless protagonist, not because she’s a “chosen one,” but because her struggles as a mother and individual are painfully relatable. Her exhaustion from juggling parenting, family drama, and self-doubt resonates deeply, making her journey from frazzled mom to empowered witch both compelling and earned.

The supporting cast, particularly Eliza, whose storytelling magic brings reality to life, and the Beckett women (including the enigmatic Dorcas), add layers of complexity and warmth. Wallace infuses the story with laugh-out-loud moments, such as the baby’s garlic-scented onesie and Cassie’s sardonic take on her chaotic life. These lighthearted touches never overshadow the deeper themes of self-discovery and family bonds. For instance, Cassie’s gradual acceptance of her magical heritage parallels her emotional healing, reflecting her struggle to reclaim her sense of self-worth after years of prioritizing others. 

The vampire threat serves as both a literal and metaphorical challenge, pushing Cassie to confront her fears and embrace her strength. Cassie’s strained relationship with her absent husband and her budding romance with Ben, lack resolution or depth. Reviewers have noted a desire for more exploration of Ben’s backstory and a clearer conclusion to Cassie’s marital issues, which feel sidelined in favor of the vampire conflict.

Chapter 1

A man staggered down the sidewalk, his feet swallowed by a swirling blanket of sea fog. At times he veered dangerously toward the curb, but just before he would teeter over its edge, he'd lurch back to shamble over the damp grass of his neighbors' lawns. Each plodding step seemed destined to be his last, but he lumbered on, his unfocused eyes and sickly pale cheeks gleaming under the streetlamps, his jaw hanging loosely like a corpse's.

Cassie Beckett put down the yellow highlighter she had been using to mark up the family calendar as he approached. She tilted her chin to the black cat seated primly on the top edge of her wicker chair. "He doesn't look so good, does he?"

The cat didn't reply.

"Hey, Gary," she called out from the porch. "How's the training going?"

The man stopped his forward momentum but continued to step on the spot. He pulled up the pants of his gray sweatsuit and took a sip from his water bottle. "Made it two K yesterday."

Cassie smiled. "Nice."

"Is it okay if I leave this here?" He shook his bottle. "It's empty and I don't want it weighing me down."

"Be my guest."

Gary was training for a half-marathon. He claimed he ran at night because of work, but that didn't make much sense given that he was an accountant. Cassie suspected he was embarrassed about the shape he was in, but he didn't have to be. Not with her. She admired him for trying something new.

"Thanks." He plunked the plastic container on her mailbox as an infant's cry pealed out from an open window down the street.

Cassie smiled and looked over to the house with the cranberry door, its brass knocker winking in the dark. Every neighborhood had its secret nightlife, and hers was no exception. As though on cue, a man with a baby strapped to his chest emerged from the house. The piercing cries faded away as he walked down his driveway with careful, bouncing steps. When he reached the street, he turned around and walked back toward the house, making sure to keep a steady rhythm.

"Poor guy." Gary pushed up the Rocky-inspired headband that had slipped down his forehead. "Rumor has it the baby is his sister's. She wasn't ready to be a mother, so he stepped up."

Not much stayed secret in the Burrow. The neighborhood wasn't much more than a street in an old suburb of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, and nobody could remember how it had gotten its name, but it was quaint with its old homes and tall trees, and Cassie couldn't imagine calling any other place home.

Their newest neighbor had only moved in a month or so ago, and Cassie hadn't had the chance to introduce herself. Granted, she hadn't gone out of her way to either. He was intimidatingly handsome. He had the glasses and bashful air of an English teacher or librarian, but the build of a quarterback. His hair was honey brown and always messy-that was probably because of the baby-but she hadn't seen his eyes up close. If she had to guess, they were hazel. She thought he might have a dimple too, but-all this was ridiculous because Cassie was technically married, even if it didn't feel too much like it these days.

Gary must have caught her look because he chuckled and said, "Yeah, he's a good-looking guy. You'd have to be dead not to notice."

Cassie smiled, hoping the darkness hid the burn coming to her cheeks. "What's his name again?"

"Ben. He's a history professor. Some sort of expert on island lore."

A history professor. She knew she'd been on the right track.

Gary cleared his throat and hiked his pants again. "Anyway, got to get back at it. The longer I stop, the harder it is to get going again."

That observation rang true for Cassie on many levels. "Good luck. And don't forget to take breaks."

He waved and pushed on.

Cassie scratched her cat's chin. "He'll be fine, right?"

She purred.

Janet was right. Gary was an adult. He could take care of himself. Besides, she had enough on her plate. Cassie looked down at the calendar on the old cast-iron coffee table. Crap. All of October was yellow. Every square had something. Doctor appointments. Dentist appointments. Hockey games. Basketball tryouts. It was never-ending. She scanned the to-do list running down the column at the side. She was also volunteering for two field trips, which meant she needed to trade shifts at work, and she had to get her daughter skates before her class started its weekly trip to the rink. Oh God, and the twins needed Halloween costumes! If only she could cut holes in sheets like moms used to do in the old days. Those women knew how to live.

The jack-o'-lantern sitting on the top step of the porch drew Cassie's eye. At least that was done, and she hadn't had to lift a finger. It had been the strangest thing. The pumpkin had shown up that morning, its carved face peering into her front door. Someone had obviously spent time on it. Its triangle eyes-peaks pointed in-had been cut to a devilish angle, and its mouth with its two long fangs looked ready to tear through steel. There had obviously been some sort of mistake, but she had no clue what to do about it.

Cassie stared into the dark hollows of the jack-o'-lantern's eyes. While its sudden appearance was somewhat convenient, it was too creepy for her liking. It almost felt like it was challenging her.

"You want to go, Creepy?" she muttered, then looked back at her packed calendar. Who was she kidding? She didn't have time to duel with jack-o'-lanterns. Not with this schedule.

Cassie leaned back in her chair. Being out on the porch of her century-old home always brought her peace. The wood planks were wobbly, and the sage-green paint was peeling, but she had fixed it up with hanging plants, rugs, blankets, and lanterns, and over time it had become her favorite part of the house. It was the perfect spot to watch the moon rise and soak in the night air. Not that she'd have a whole lot of time for that this month. She put her feet on the table, pushing the calendar an inch or two away with the toe of her boot. It was fine. She could do this. As long as she didn't get sick or require more than six hours of sleep-something she didn't seem capable of anyway-it was fine.

Janet nuzzled Cassie's ear as she pulled her mug of herbal tea close to her chest, inhaling its sweet grassy scent. She'd been having some insomnia lately. Stress, probably. She did her best to keep everyone on track, but ever since her husband, Matt, had left for his second tour with Doctors Without Borders-leaving her with their fifteen-year-old daughter and eight-year-old twin boys-it always felt like she wasn't doing enough. Or doing it right. Or doing it the way everyone expected her to. Other moms made it look so easy. At least the ones on social media did.

But ongoing stress aside, something more was going on with her. She'd had this strange, tense feeling lately that there was something she was supposed to be doing. Something aside from all the other things she was supposed to be doing. It was like there was an undercurrent of electricity constantly pricking at her skin, prodding her to do . . . something.

It was probably the change in weather. Those first gusts of cold wind always made her restless.

Cassie shifted her tea to her other hand and dug her fingers into her jean pocket as she watched the heavy fog swirl. She slipped out her coin, a relic from childhood, and flipped it mindlessly between her fingers, feeling the familiar grooves of the engraved sun and moon on either side.

The day had been brilliant and pleasantly cool. The kind of fall day that made a person want to walk around under a canopy of red and gold leaves, wearing a scarf and drinking pumpkin-spiced coffee. Not that Cassie had done any of that. She had spent the day at work discussing circular saws with chainsaw attachments and the intricate workings of septic bed treatments. But it was still nice getting in and out of the van. As soon as the sun had set, though, tendrils of cold mist reached in from the harbor, flooding the neighborhood in a gloomy haze. It had a strange murkiness to it. At times, instead of reflecting the light from the streetlamps, it swallowed it, darkening all it touched. And it moved in peculiar ways too. One minute she could see all the way down the street, but the next, the world beyond her front steps disappeared. For all she knew, someone could be in that cold mist right now staring at her. The thought sent an icy shiver up the skin on the back of her neck, even though she knew there was nothing in the fog. Janet would know if there were.

A low growl rumbled by her ear. Cassie jolted, spilling her tea. "What the heck, cat?" She said it quietly though. Janet did sometimes growl at absolutely nothing-or ghosts, she couldn't be sure-but there were other times when her feline friend picked up on real creatures going bump in the night. Cassie held her breath to listen and heard a grunt come from up the street. Her shoulders dropped. She knew that grunt. And she should have seen this coming.

It was Thursday. Karaoke night.

Cassie slipped her coin back into her pocket and swatted at the drops of tea on her cable-knit sweater, but her hand fell away when the willowy silhouette of a woman emerged from the fog. She was swaying, not unlike Gary, but that wasn't what had Cassie concerned. She was also dragging something. Its metal tip scraped noisily along the pavement.

A baseball bat.

Janet jumped down from the chair and up onto the porch railing in a fluid motion. She gathered herself up into a tight perched position. Cassie considered throwing her granny square afghan over her head, but it was too late. The woman had already spotted her. "Hey you!" she shouted as though it wasn't the middle of the night. "Just the person I wanted to see!"

Eliza, Cassie's sister and in most ways her first child, was stunning. Her hair was long, black, and straight-as opposed to Cassie's sandy waves that lived in a messy bun-and her eyes were large and dramatically dark. That being said, she looked a little rough tonight. The black tank dress wasn't too bad-it showed off her sister's slender arms and the bangles clustered at her wrists-but the work boots on her feet and the flannel shirt tied around her waist looked wrong. So did the scraped knee glaring angrily through her torn black tights.

"Go away," Cassie said tiredly. "I don't want what you're selling."

"Is that any way to welcome your sister home?"

Cassie pointed down the street. "You live that way."

Eliza ambled halfway up the lawn before suddenly pitching forward in giant, awkward steps. When she caught herself, she frowned at the football lying innocently in the grass, then kicked it over to the property next door. One of her oversized boots tumbled after it.

"No. Go get that. Mrs. MacDonald is going to flip out." Cassie didn't talk to her neighbor all that much, but when they did speak, it was almost always about property lines. Mrs. MacDonald was big on property lines. She probably didn't want the chaos of Cassie's life spilling into hers.

"No time for that," Eliza said. "You're going to want to hear about what I've been up to. I promise it has a happy ending."

Cassie did want to hear about what her sister had been up to-in the way she wanted to know about an outbreak of lice in the boys' classroom-but she also didn't want to encourage whatever this was. Besides, she didn't need to ask Eliza where she had been. She knew the answer to that. And she didn't have to ask her who she was with. Cassie knew that too. She certainly wasn't going to ask her sister how much she'd had to drink. She didn't want to know the answer to that. And she definitely wasn't going to ask her-

"Why do you have a bat?" Frick.

"Great question. Wait. Why are you out here at-" Eliza looked at her wrist, making her bracelets jangle. She didn't wear a watch. "Why are you out here?"

"Couldn't sleep." Cassie looked pointedly at the bat. "Now you."

Her sister groaned. "It's a long story."

"One you seemed eager to tell me a moment ago."

"Yeah." Eliza sighed. "But now that I've had time to think it over, I've realized I don't come out particularly well in it." She trailed off, distracted by the cat pinning her with a judgmental gaze. "You know what, Janet?" She challenged the cat with a glare, but couldn't finish the thought.

"Eliza. Focus."

"It was self-defense."

"Against?"

"A two-thousand and nine Ford F-150."

Cassie pressed her fingers against her eyelids. "No. Absolutely not. I want no part of this." Destruction of property was not on her calendar. "Wait, was it parked or moving?" What was wrong with her? Why was she still asking questions?

"Parked. Definitely parked. But . . ." Eliza trailed off again, her eyes tracking a late moth fluttering up to the streetlamp.

Cassie snapped her fingers in the air. "Okay, start from the beginning." She suspected she already knew the end.

"You want me to start from the beginning? I can tell you the whole story with one word." She struggled to untie the flannel shirt fixed around her waist, then threw it to the ground. "It was Tommy. The asshat."

"Hey!" Cassie shot a look up in the direction of her boys' window.

"Oh shit." Eliza slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

"You know what? Don't start from the beginning. Just tell me one thing. Tell me you did not commit a Carrie Underwood on his truck."

Eliza opened her mouth then shut it again before squinting and chewing her thumbnail. Cassie imagined she was mulling her strategy. A moment passed and Eliza flung her hand away. "Of course I committed a Carrie Underwood on his truck! Well, half an Underwood. Have you ever tried to beat up a truck? It's harder than it looks. I may have dislocated my shoulder."

Thoughts of damage, insurance, and possible legal action swirled through Cassie's mind.

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#Review - When the Crow's Away by Auralee Wallace #Mystery #Cozy

Series: Evenfall Witches B&B Mystery # 2
Format: Mass Market, 304 pages
Release Date: April 5, 2022
Publisher: Berkley Books
Source: Library
Genre: Cozy Mystery / Supernatural

The ghost of a recently deceased chocolatier believes he was murdered, and it's up to young witch Brynn Warren to use her magical gifts and old-fashioned sleuthing skills to find out how he really met his bitter end in this enchanting new Evenfall Witches B&B Mystery.

After spending months unable to use her powers, Brynn Warren is once again using her gift and working at her family's bed-and-breakfast. Her heart is full, and although one of her aunts wonders if it might be a little more full with a bit of romance in her life, Brynn is certain that finding love again is not in her future. In fact, she can’t imagine anyone being more certain of anything…except for maybe, the recently deceased Mortimer Sweete. He’s certain he’s been murdered, and he wants Brynn’s help to bring his killer to justice.
 
Mort is positive he knows who killed him: his business partner's wife, Cookie, who had been trying to get them to sell the candy shop for months. But Brynn doesn't share his conviction. After all, the coroner ruled his death natural causes, and Mort did have health problems in life. But with Cookie putting up a For Sale sign for the shop already, Brynn knows she can't just let it go. 
 
Trying to solve a might-be murder while attempting to stop her aunt from meddling in her personal life seems like a recipe for disaster. If Brynn wants to bring Mort's spirit peace, she'll have to rely on all her skills—both magical and mundane—to uncover the truth.

When the Crow's Away, by Auralee Wallace, is the second installment in the authors Evenfall Witches B&B Mystery series. For four hundred years, the Warren witches have used their magic to quietly help the citizens of the sleepy New England town of Evenfall thrive. There's never been a problem they couldn't handle. Then a new case is dropped in their laps.The ghost of a recently deceased chocolatier named Mortimore Sweete believes he was murdered, and it's up to young witch Brynn Warren, who is a witch of the dead, to use her magical gifts and old-fashioned sleuthing skills to find out how he really met his bitter end.

 

Mort is positive he knows who killed him: his business partner's wife, Cookie, who had been trying to get them to sell the candy shop for months. But Brynn doesn't share his conviction. After all, the coroner ruled his death natural causes, and Mort did have health problems in life. But with Cookie putting up a For Sale sign for the shop already, Brynn knows she can't just let it go. Despite the magic at her disposal, Brynn will heavily rely on traditional mystery-solving methods as well as the constant badgering by Mort and his refusal to speak to his widowed wife.

 

Prior to Mort's arrival, Brynn had been feeling as though something was about to happen that would once again test the mettle of the of the Warren witches. In fact, it seems as though Aunt Izzy (who is a kitchen witch) and Aunt Evanora (who is a garden witch) were pushing Brynn to get out in the world, and find happiness. Even Dog, the annoying Crow, tries to get Brynn out of her funk. There's even Nixie the young woman with blood of a witch hunter who is pushing Brynn into teaching her a spell. And, Gideon, who like Brynn lost his fiancee when she was involved in a car crash with Brynn's parents.

 

There is an intriguing development at the end of the book which ends on a cliffhanger after Brynn finds that her powers are acting strangely. Could it be the new person in town? The next book ought to be very interesting. The murder mystery in this book was rather intriguing, and the so called villain may not be who you think it is. As with most cozy mysteries, the characters in this book range from the utterly crazy, to raving lunatics, and that's just Brynn's Aunt's who want the best for Brynn, but tend to go way, way overboard! Of course, the next door neighbor is more than he seems which I won't spoil.

 

Chapter 1

Pink and peach clouds, fiery in the sun's dying rays, rolled slowly across the baby blue sky. A riot of birdsong rang out from the trees as a gentle breeze twirled fluffy seedpods in the air. Spring had finally come to Evenfall, Connecticut.

"I just love this time of year," the woman beside me said. "That feeling of warm sunlight on your face. The sight of all the flowers popping up their sleepy heads. The smell of rich, fresh earth bursting with new life." She sighed happily. "Isn't it just magical?"

"I've never cared for it."

I darted a look over to the woman seated on my other side, doing my best to suppress a smile. Some things never changed. While my aunt Izzy tended to see the very best in everyone and everything, my aunt Nora, well, she made an art form out of being perpetually unimpressed.

Then there was me. I was right in the middle. Literally.

I was seated between the two of them on the back porch of our family's Queen Anne tower house, Ivywood Hollow Bed and Breakfast. My aunts had suggested we come outside to enjoy the spectacular sunset. It was hard to say if we were succeeding in that particular goal just yet.

"But it's spring," Izzy persisted. "What is there not to like about spring?"

"Quite a bit actually," Nora said, flashing her long, crimson fingernails in the air. "Where should I begin? The sun is blinding in the early morning hours. You can't work in the garden without getting completely covered in mud. And then there is all this nonstop twittering." She cast a disapproving glance at the trees.

In fairness, she was more of an autumn person.

Izzy sat up in her seat. "Well, all that may be true, but-"

"Then there's the people," Nora went on, not quite through with her rant. She propped an elbow on the armrest of her chair and pointed at us. "Everyone behaves so nonsensically this time of year. They're practically overflowing with hope and excitement. And for what? A mild breeze and a bit of sunshine? Ridiculous." Suddenly a bluebird swooped in out of nowhere and landed on Nora's finger. She blinked at it. "You, my tiny feathered friend, are only proving my point."

The bird twittered prettily, then flew away.

"But, Nora," Izzy said with a nervous laugh, "wasn't it your idea for us to come out here to enjoy all that spring has to offer?"

"Oh no, Sister. Don't you dare try to pin this on me."

I frowned. Pin what on who now?

Izzy huffed a breath. "I knew I shouldn't have included you in this." Her eyes widened when she caught me looking at her. "In this viewing of the sunset," she added awkwardly before looking back at Nora. "You haven't liked spring since high school. Wasn't it your junior year when-"

"Absolutely nothing happened." Nora pulled down her oversized black sunglasses to give her sister a ferocious look. "And I do not hate spring." She pushed her sunglasses back up and laid her forearms delicately on the armrests of her chair. "I simply think it's overrated."

Izzy held up her hands in defeat.

"Wait, what are we talking about?" I asked, finally getting a word in. There was clearly a great deal being communicated under the surface here. I had a lot of questions, but I opted to start with, "What happened junior year?"

"Absolutely nothing," Nora repeated in a clipped tone.

I twirled my long black braid between my fingers as I looked back and forth between my aunts.

The two of them painted a contrasting picture. Nora was looking rather elegant this evening-if not a touch severe-in her black silk jumpsuit. She had her fiery red hair twisted up into a tight bun on the top of her head, accentuating her long neck and perfect posture. Izzy, in comparison, appeared fresh and sweet in her pink floral dress with ruffled hem. Her strawberry blond hair sat loose and curling about her shoulders, wavering charmingly in the breeze.

I had to admit I felt a bit shabby in my wrap sweater and jersey leggings. But, in fairness, no one had told me I needed to dress for the occasion. Not that this was an occasion. We were just taking in the sunset. At least I thought that's what we were doing. Suddenly I wasn't so sure.

"Why are we even talking about spring? Or unremarkable junior years?" Nora asked grumpily. "I thought we were supposed to be out here talking about Brynn?"

And there it was. I should have known.

I gripped the armrests of my wingback rattan chair to force myself up into a less relaxed posture. "And what is it exactly about me that needs discussion?"

"I have no idea what your aunt is talking about," Izzy said, forcing an overly bright smile. "Have you tried the tea, darling?" She reached for a cut glass mug. "It's a ginger and jasmine mix. I flavored it with honey, cloves, orange slices, blackberries, and just a touch of red pepper for heat."

I eyed the tall pitcher filled with amber liquid, sparkling in the slanted rays of the setting sun. Beside it sat a plate covered in freshly baked tarts with ruby-colored filling.

"They're raspberry," Izzy prodded, following my gaze. "Your favorite."

They looked delicious. I could practically feel the flaky crust breaking apart in my mouth. But we both knew those weren't just any old tarts. I pinned my aunt in my gaze. Her eyes widened again, this time to unparalleled levels of innocence. It was pretty adorable. But I wasn't about to be distracted by her cuteness. "Izzy? What is going on?"

"Oh, just tell her why you've dragged us out here," Nora said with an exasperated sigh. "I'm about to spontaneously combust in all this golden sunlight."

"Are you sure you don't want to try the tea first, darling? Or the tarts?" Izzy asked hopefully.

I raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll wait."

My aunt sighed, then cleared her throat. "This wasn't quite how I wanted to bring the subject up," she said, cutting her sister a look. "But, well, Brynn, your aunt and I have noticed that you seem distracted lately. Like something might be bothering you."

Was that all this was about? I chuckled with relief.

"And Izzy here has a theory on what that something might be," Nora said with a sniff. "She also has some ideas about how to fix it."

My chuckle died a swift death. My aunts speculating on my well-being was always disconcerting, but the idea of their fixing any of my theoretical problems was downright terrifying. Time to nip this in the bud. "You don't have to come up with any theories. Or ways to fix anything." I stared off into the endless sky beyond the sorbet-colored clouds. "And you don't have to worry. I know I've been a bit distracted lately, but I promise you it's nothing."

"What's nothing?" Nora asked sharply.

I could feel her studying me, but I kept my gaze on the sky. "It's hard to explain, but I've had this funny feeling lately. I think it's the changing of the seasons. Spring fever maybe."

In fairness, I could see why my aunts might be concerned. A few days ago, I had been kneading dough with Izzy, and she had caught me staring off into space. I had been quite still for several minutes without realizing it. Then a day or two after that, I may have snipped the side of my finger with gardening sheers helping Nora trim the dead branches off of a rosebush. It was a little strange. I wasn't normally so careless. When the feeling came on, it was like I had to stop everything I was doing, still all my senses, in order to pick up on whatever it was. It was like listening for a soft noise somewhere in the distance. Or trying to catch a faint scent on the breeze. It almost felt like something might be coming. But the funny thing was, as soon as I did focus on the sensation, the feeling would disappear, like it had never existed at all. Again, I had chalked it up to the season. What is spring if not the feeling of anticipation? I was sure it was nothing to worry about.

I knew my aunts might have a bit of trouble with that though. They had raised me since the age of five after my parents died in a car accident. Worrying was a part of their job description, even if I was now over thirty.

I didn't have to look at Nora to feel her gaze narrow in on me. "Spring fever? Since when do you suffer from spring fever?" The tone in her voice made it sound like we were talking about malaria or maybe West Nile virus. "Are you sure this strange feeling of yours doesn't have something to do with your work?"

"Or maybe something else?" Izzy asked sweetly, clutching her hands to her chest. Stars above, what was going on with her? She was practically batting her eyelashes at me.

I gave her a look that spoke to the fact that I thought she might be a touch dangerous, then said, "I don't know. Maybe."

"You are not doing a very good job of explaining yourself," Nora said.

I let out an exasperated grunt. "Because there's nothing much to explain. I just keep getting this feeling like something is about to happen, but then nothing ever does. Really, you guys don't need to worry." As if on cue, a warm breeze gusted by, making the trees whisper. I eased back against my chair. Hopefully we could let this conversation go now and just enjoy the evening.

"But what is it exactly you think is about to happen?"

I groaned. Loudly. "I don't know. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Oh! Look! Bunny!" I pointed at a small cottontail hopping across the lawn. I darted glances at both my aunts to see if they had spotted it too. But no, they were both still focused on me with matching expressions of concern. "What? Now we don't like bunnies?"

"They eat my vegetables," Nora replied. "Don't change the subject. You do realize that we Warren women are not ones to ignore feelings. Have you spoken to your uncle about this?"

"No, I haven't told Gideon anything. There's no reason to. It's nothing. I'm sure of it." I really was sure. The whole thing was silly. But at least I was getting some tarts out of it. I reached for the biggest one on the plate, picked it up, and took my long-awaited bite. Chills rushed over my body. It was beyond good. Sweet. Tart. Buttery. It was also, funnily enough, quite relaxing, and encouraging, and dare I say, prodding. Like suddenly I had the urge to give up all my secrets.

I shot Izzy a look.

She smiled and scratched the back of her neck.

"Why didn't you guys just ask me what was going on?" I mumbled, bringing a hand up to cover my mouth. "You didn't have to plan this elaborate ruse." Truth be told, though, I already knew why. Not that long ago I had gone through the darkest period of my life, and I hadn't shared much of anything with my family, but I had come a long way since then. They knew that.

"We didn't know how you would react, darling. You can be quite private."

I swallowed hard and wiped the crumbs from my mouth and then my lap. "Okay, well, next time just talk to me." I held my hands up. "Really. I have nothing to hide." I turned my palms inward, looking at the crumbs all over my fingers, then quickly grabbed a napkin. "Now, tell me. What was your theory on what was bothering me?"

"It's nothing," Izzy said, shaking her head so quickly it almost looked like a shudder.

I was about to interrogate her further but was distracted by a young couple entering the garden from the side gate. They were newlyweds spending a couple of days at the B&B. Neither one had spotted us yet. They only had eyes for each other.

"They are so sweet together," Izzy mused, a dreamy look coming over her face.

My chest tightened.

They were so sweet together, and so much in love. It was impossible not to see it. It was in every gesture, the way the distance between them closed when they entered a room, the look in their eyes when they said each other's names, even in the way they held hands. It was precious. Truly precious. I had been in love like that once.

"Ridiculous," Nora muttered.

I smiled.

We watched the couple in silence for a little while before Izzy asked, "Don't you think they're sweet together, Brynn?"

I shot up in my seat. Wait a minute.

"What?" Izzy asked nervously. "What is it?"

"Did you know those two would be out here? Is that what you really wanted to talk about? Love?" I was using the same tone to speak about love that Nora had used when she was talking about spring.

Izzy's hand flew to her chest. "Brynn, do you really think I would be so conniving as to have that sweet young couple involved in some sort of scheme?"

"Hello!" the young man called out to her with a friendly wave. "Did we come at the right time?"

Nora laughed. Actually, it was more of a cackle.

Izzy smiled weakly. "Yes, just in time for the sunset. Lovely, isn't it?" She sank back into her chair. "Nora is so much better at conniving."

"I'll take that as a compliment," her sister replied, turning her face to the sun.

"Listen," I said in a much gentler tone, "I can see what it is you're trying to do here, and I know you mean well, but you are way off base."

I watched the newlywed husband lower a branch from our magnolia tree for his wife to see up close. Just as it neared her sightline, I heard Nora whisper something under her breath, and one of the pink buds swirled open, much to the couple's delight.

When Nora caught me looking at her, she shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"But, darling," Izzy said, stealing back my attention. "It has been some time now. Isn't there a part of you that misses it?"

"Of course I miss it. I miss him. The two can't be separated for me." That was the simple truth of it. I had lost my husband, Adam, to an undiagnosed congenital heart defect almost two years ago. It was a devastating loss. In truth, it had nearly killed me, but I had come a long way since then. I gave my aunt what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "But I can miss those things without feeling like my life is missing something. I am at peace with where I am now. I've had the greatest love anyone could ask for. And even though that part of my life is over, I'm grateful to have had it." I meant the words deeply. It wasn't something I had ever articulated out loud, but I was glad I finally had so that my aunts could understand.

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#Review - In the Company of Witches by Auralee Wallace #Mystery #Paranormal

Series: Evenfall Witches B&B Mystery (#1)
Format: Paperback, 336 pages
Release Date: October 5, 2021
Publisher: Berkley Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Mystery / Supernatural

When a guest dies in the B&B she helps her aunts run, a young witch must rely on some good old-fashioned investigating to clear her aunt’s name in this magical and charming new cozy mystery.

For four hundred years, the Warren witches have used their magic to quietly help the citizens of the sleepy New England town of Evenfall thrive. There’s never been a problem they couldn’t handle. But then Constance Graves—a local known for being argumentative and demanding—dies while staying at the bed and breakfast Brynn Warren maintains with her aunts. At first, it seems like an accident…but it soon becomes clear that there’s something more sinister at work, and Aunt Nora is shaping up to be the prime suspect.

There’s nothing Brynn wants more than to prove Nora’s innocence, and it hurts her to know that even two years ago that might have been easier. Brynn, after all, is a witch of the dead—a witch who can commune with ghosts. Ghosts never remember much about their deaths, but Constance might remember something about her life that would help crack the case. But Brynn hasn’t used her powers since her husband died, and isn’t even sure she still can. Brynn will just have to hope that her aunts’ magic and her own investigative skills will lead her to answers—and maybe back to the gift she once thought herself ready to give up forever.

In the Company of Witches, by Auralee Wallace, is the first installment in the authors Evenfall Witches B&B series. The story is set in a sleepy little New England town called Evenfall where 31-year-old Brynn Warren runs Ivywood Hollow B&B with her aunts Nora and Izzy. Ever since Brynn lost her husband, she's withdrawn from the world. She's barely left her B&B, she no longer visits the bookstore that she loves so much, and her magic has gotten to the point where it going rogue. 

 

When Constance Graves, a visitor to the B&B, is found dead after hitting her head, the B&B, Brynn, Nora, and Izzy become suspects. Nora was overheard by a busy body neighbor saying she would love to kill that woman after all the nonsense Constance put the three women through. Nora, Izzy, and Brynn are all witches. Izzy is a kitchen witch, while Nora is a garden witch. Until the loss of her husband Adam, Brynn was a friend of the other side aka Witch of the Dead able to see and talk to the recently departed and hold departure ceremonies in their honor. Brynn's uncle Gideon can see both the past and the future but he also experienced horrifying losses that has kept him indoors.

With Constance dead, Brynn finds that avoiding magic comes with a cost of not knowing what Constance saw, or who she was killed by. Some spirits tend to carry what happened to them before passing it on to others. For 400 years, the Warren witches have used their magic to quietly help the citizens of the sleepy New England town of Evenfall thrive. There’s never been a problem they couldn’t handle. Until the Graves family starts asking too many questions, and the town begins to wonder if the three women are the cause of the towns recent problems including vandalism and flowers in the town dying.

 

There are some really curious characters secondary characters in this book from Mr. Henderson, the next door neighbor who has a key eye for the occult, to Nixie who claims to be a witch hunter, but loves Nora, to the entire discombobulated Graves clan itching to grab whatever Constance leaves behind. It is fair to say that anyone in this town could be responsible for the murder of Constance. If I were you, I would pay close attention to the characters and how righteous they get when Brynn begins to investigate outside of the police's own investigation in order to save her aunts from being found guilty.

 

Wallace has developed an incredibly charming cozy world, with a town that feels like Stars Hollow, aunts who have the delightful energy of the Spellman's, a mischievous crow familiar (named Dog!), and a protagonist with real emotional depth without being too heavy. Despite having magic at her disposal, Brynn will heavily rely on traditional mystery-solving methods, so this book will appeal to traditional cozy mystery readers; the emotional depth, great worldbuilding, and brilliant characters will draw in magic-loving readers as well.

Chapter 1

I’m going to kill her.“

The corner of my mouth twitched, but I kept my gaze on my book. I was very cozy curled up in the green velvet sofa by the fire. I did not want to encourage the tear my aunt was working herself up to.

”I never should have agreed to this,“ she went on, completely ignoring the fact that I was ignoring her. She was also ignoring the annoyed cat on the chaise lounge behind her, thumping his tail. He was trying to sleep. ”You know I can’t tolerate the vast majority of people for longer than a day or two-“

I would have said a couple of hours tops, but who was I to quibble?

”-but to let that woman stay for five days? Madness.“

I reached for my mug of Honeybush orange tea. It was very soothing. I probably should have made a pot to share. And I don’t know if I would call it madness. The woman in question was paying for her stay while her historic home was undergoing some much-needed renovations, and when you run a B&B you have to expect that on occasion you are going to have demanding guests. Although some guests really were more demanding than others.

Case in point, Constance Graves.

Constance had been staying with us at Ivywood Hollow the past week, and it hadn’t taken long for us to discover it was not going to be an easy stay. Evenfall, Connecticut, was a small town, so we knew Constance could be demanding, but we really hadn’t been concerned. After all, we had always been able to win over hard-to-please guests in the past-we were very good at what we did-but Constance turned out to be a special case.

To begin, she insisted there be no other guests staying at the B&B while she was there. It was a completely reasonable request given she was willing to pay for all the rooms, and it seemed like it would make our lives a whole lot easier. Less people, less work, right? Not so. Not. So.

Personally, I knew we were in for trouble when I showed her where she’d be staying. The Rosewater Room. It’s gorgeous. Four-poster bed. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Silk upholstered divan that was perfect for reclining when life became too much. What Constance saw, however, was the white Egyptian cotton sheets peeking out from under the damask comforter on her bed. They were too white. She was afraid of the glare they might give off in the morning sun. When I changed them to a lovely taupe, she found the shade a bit too muddy. I was able to get away with a blush-colored set, but I’m pretty sure that was only because she couldn’t think of an objection to throw at them quickly enough.

And it didn’t end there.

The meals were always too hot. Or too cold. Too spicy. Or too bland. And all these complaints usually came before she had even lifted her fork, if she lifted it at all. Oh! And her room temperature. We could never get that right. Seventy-four degrees at Ivywood Hollow Bed-and-

Breakfast did not feel like the seventy-four degrees she was used to in her house. My absolute favorite, though, was when she told me she found the antique blue inlay of the fireplace to be a little garish. I asked her if she’d like to change rooms, given she was paying for them all, but she told me with a drawn-out sigh that she’d suffer through.

I couldn’t help but feel for her though. She was obviously unhappy, and someone that unhappy deserved a little leeway.

”I could push her off the balconette.“

Or not.

I smiled at my aunt Nora. She couldn’t help herself. She was fiery by nature. Constance had just asked for the flower arrangement in her room to be replaced because the fresh-cut hydrangeas were a little much, and it was a miracle Nora hadn’t finished her off then and there. Most people had the good sense not to trifle with my aunt and her plants.

Nora, along with her sister Izzy and I, ran the B&B together, but she was the one who took care of the gardens and general ambiance of the bed-and-breakfast. It was amazing how she could take the simplest of places and transform it into something warm and welcoming, especially given the fact that warm and welcoming were probably two words that had never been used to describe her. When she walked down the street, usually dressed in black with her red hair flowing, you’d find at least two or three kids following behind. It was a game of bravery for them. Nora was a lot like a tiger in a rickety cage, beautiful to look at and dangerous. Those kids knew at any moment she might turn and lunge at them, giving them the thrill of a lifetime. Not that she ever really lunged. The turn was enough to send them off in peals of terrified laughter.

”I don’t think pushing anyone off of anything will be necessary, Nora,“ a voice came from the top of the stairs. ”I believe I finally have Constance settled for the night. She just needed a little help with the bath water.“

My aunt Izzy came down the stairs, tucking some wayward strawberry blond curls back up into the loose bun on her head. Izzy did the cooking and baking at Ivywood Hollow, and she was fabulous at it. She knew it too. Izzy could get anyone to do just about anything with her culinary creations. Thankfully, she was also just about the sweetest woman to have ever lived, given it wasn’t uncommon for guests to promise their firstborns for another bite of dessert. Izzy sat herself down beside me on the sofa and patted my leg companionably.

”Oh, you think you have her settled, do you? I’ll believe that when I hear it,“ Nora drawled. ”And by the way, I will never forgive you for giving that woman a bell.“

My smile widened. That’s right. Izzy had given Constance a bell. Our esteemed guest had found all the stairs of the house difficult to manage, and she felt she required a way to get ahold of us should she need anything. I didn’t really think the stairs were that much of an issue for her, but Constance needed a lot of things, so if she had to go up and down the stairs every time she needed one of those things, well, that would be a lot. For an Olympic athlete it would be a lot.

”Did you hear it ringing last night at 3:00 a.m.?“ Nora asked me. ”No, of course you didn’t. Tucked away in your little nest.“

I lived in the loft above the old carriage house, now garage, of the B&B, unlike my aunts whose rooms were in the house. The small loft certainly wasn’t as beautiful or as impressive as any of the spaces inside Ivywood Hollow, but it was cozy, and I had come to believe a little bit of privacy was good for the soul.

”She needed me to fluff her pillow. At three in the morning. Oh! I just realized I could have smothered her with it, and this would all be over.“

”Evanora,“ Izzy chided with a laugh. As the older sister, she was the only one permitted to use Nora’s full name. It wasn’t a harsh reprimand though. We both knew Nora was just being Nora. ”What a terrible thing to say. And, really, she’s a lovely woman. She just knows what she likes.“

”Don’t be ridiculous,“ Nora replied. ”She’s a horrible woman, and you know it. Brynn and I were just discussing how much we’d both like to strangle her.“

”What?“ I asked in the high-pitched voice of the falsely accused. I straightened up on the sofa, which wasn’t easy because it was ridiculously plush. ”We’d both like to strangle her?“ I was pretty sure Nora had had that particular conversation all by herself.

”She finally speaks.“ Nora collapsed dramatically back against the chaise lounge and draped her arm over her forehead. The cat resting above her peeked one eye open, probably trying to determine if my aunt was actually settling down or just resting momentarily before she worked herself up again. ”And yes, you might not have said the words, but I could tell you were thinking them.“

”I didn’t realize mind reading was one of your many talents.“ I took another sip of my tea.

”What else can I do? You’ve become so quiet. You’re practically a-“

Nora caught herself before she said the word out loud, but it was too late.

Ghost.

A softness came to her face as she met my eye. ”Brynn, I’m sorry. That was insensitive.“

”It’s okay. I know.“ I gave her a weak smile. How could I be upset? Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. I had changed a lot. My life had fallen apart over a year ago now, and I wasn’t the person I used to be.

”Let’s just enjoy what’s left of the evening, shall we?“ Izzy said, giving my knee a squeeze. ”It’s the perfect fall night to be snug inside by the fire.“

I smiled, grateful to let the subject drop. My aunts had been expressing more and more concern about my well-being lately, and I didn’t feel up to yet another discussion about how I was doing. Besides, this was very cozy, the three of us listening to the wind whistle outside while the firelight danced over the dark honeyed walls of the parlor. It was a nice moment.

”When was the last time you tried a little mascara?“

And the moment was over.

I slid my gaze over to Nora.

”What? You have such beautiful eyes. Do you think everybody has that shade of green? And what about your hair?“ She swirled a finger in the direction of the black braid that hung over my shoulder. ”Is this style permanent now?“

”Evanora, leave the girl alone,“ Izzy said. ”Now’s not the time. We’ve all had a long day.“

I shot her a thankful smile.

”Nonsense!“

My smile dropped.

”Since the subject has been raised, we should discuss it. You know as well as I do, Sister, that this situation isn’t healthy. And we’re all pretending it isn’t happening. She doesn’t want to help. She doesn’t want to do that other job she used to go on about. All she wants to do is hide herself away here in the house doing chores. And, again, just look at her.“

I frowned.

”What? You look terrible.“

I didn’t look that terrible. Nora’s expectations for everyday fashion were child-beauty-pageant high.

”Soon enough she’ll be up in the attic with Gideon. Is that what you want?“

The cat behind Nora finally gave up on getting rest anywhere near my aunt. He dropped to the floor with a thud and padded over to the foot of the stairs.

”Oh, see now,“ Izzy scolded. ”You’ve upset Faustus.“

Faustus, the B&B’s resident Maine coon cat, was a lovely large beast. He was covered in black fur except for a faint frosting of gray across his face, which gave him quite the dignified look. We did lose some business from visitors with allergies, but that was the price of beauty I suppose.

”I’m sure his highness will survive,“ Nora said before shooting up to a seated position. ”You have got to be kidding me!“

A half second later a bell tinkled upstairs.

”That woman is insufferable!“

A loud crack sounded from the fireplace as flames surged up the chimney.

”Calm down. Calm down,“ Izzy said, getting to her feet. ”I forgot I said I’d bring her up some chamomile tea. I’ll go get it. You get the door. It’s almost nine o’clock. I wonder who it could be?“

Before the words had left Izzy’s mouth, the doorbell rang.

Nora swept to her feet as Izzy headed for the kitchen.

”I’ve finally got it,“ Nora said, pointing a finger in the air while reaching with the other hand for the door. ”I could shove that bell down Constance’s throat. Wouldn’t that be poetic? Oh, it’s you.“

”That’s a fine way to open the door. Who are you trying to kill now?“

I stifled a laugh as a cold little wind rushed through the door along with Williams, our neighbor from across the street.

Now, I really liked Williams. I found her to be super stylish, not unlike Nora, supremely intelligent, and incredibly interesting. She had moved in ten years ago when she started teaching music history at the university-although Nora still referred to her as the new neighbor-and since that time she had become a valued member of Evenfall’s town council. I knew Izzy felt the same way about our neighbor as I did, but the rapport between Nora and Williams was a touch more contentious. Like most neighbor relationships we did have the occasional issue to work out, and Nora, unfortunately, was willing to fight to the death over each and every one them. Once a branch from one of the B&B’s many trees was blocking light to Williams’s azaleas, and she requested we prune it back. Nora was horrified. They had argued about it in the street for nearly three straight hours before Izzy was able to negotiate a peace treaty. In all honesty, though, I think both women liked sparring.

That being said, Williams’s latest complaint was proving a touch more difficult to resolve.

”I’m sorry,“ Nora said, moving to shut the door, ”but we’re very busy discussing how to murder one of our guests right now, so if you’ve come to complain about Dog, we’ll have to discuss your murder at a later date.“

”Nora!“ Izzy said, sweeping in from the dining room with a silver tea platter. ”I can’t leave you alone for a second. Is that any way to greet a guest? Come in, Williams, please. The nights are getting chilly, aren’t they?“

Williams raised a finely sculpted eyebrow at Nora before stepping past her.

”What brings you by?“ Izzy asked. ”Not that it isn’t always a pleasure to see you.“

”Don’t lie, Izzy,“ Nora said before Williams could answer. ”It’s bad for the complexion.“

Izzy ignored her. ”I was just bringing up some tea for Constance Graves, but I could always pour you a cup if you’d like.“

Williams cringed a little at Constance’s name. Evenfall really was a small town. ”That explains somebody’s bad mood.“

”What mood?“ Nora asked, shooting up to her full height again. ”I can hardly be blamed for-what in the world is going on up there?"

Just then the bell from upstairs started ringing again and then a door slammed.

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