Holiday ebook Bundle

Sample From Muffin Top and Magic
“Mom, come on!” my daughter, Hayden, bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. “We’re gonna be late!”

“We’re gonna be late, meh meh meh,” I mocked even as I struggled with the top snap on my jeans. Why was it when I had a commitment at the bakery Hayden didn’t give a fig about the time. But for Wilderness Chicks—the one group event I despised more than all the others combined—she nagged like an old fishwife.

Probably because she knew if she didn’t, I wouldn’t go. Halloween night or no. No chocolate was worth the coming emotional upheaval.

Besides, my pants were silently screaming, Woman, eat a salad already!

“Come on, you little bugger,” I grumbled as I tried to secure the button through the fastening. “You. Fit. Last. Effing. Week.”

I sucked in a breath and then expelled all the oxygen I possibly could from my body without literally passing out. My back hit the mattress and I kicked upward. There was much yanking and pulling and then, blessedly, the button made its reluctant way through the buttonhole.

Triumphant, I struggled upright, wincing at the constriction, then turned to face the mirror. And grimaced at the sight before me. Ugh. No wonder I had trouble breathing. Blubber spilled over the top of the too snug waistband. Not actually blubber. That’s just what my pasty pale midriff resembled against the dark wash denim.

Becca Boyd, you look like hell. The other mothers my age looked so well put-together. Fit and trim, with proper haircuts and clothing that actually fit. Their handbags matched their shoes and they wore makeup and accessories. Not me. My hair was six months out from my last trim. Graying brown flyaway strands stuck out every which way. The burgundy polish on my finger and toenails was peeling. Personal grooming was one of those things I always meant to do but never had enough energy for at the end of the day. My boobs were contained in a bra that fit but didn’t do a thing to enhance my natural charms. And then there was the dreaded muffin top.

“Shirt, shirt, shirt.” I scoured my closet for something loose and blousy that would disguise the excess flesh. Of course, nothing like that waited in my closet full of t-shirts and yoga pants. I wasn’t a dressy-uppy kinda mom. At work, I wore a black chef’s coat and pants. At home, I stuck with the theme of something comfy.

Which the jeans certainly weren’t.

Changing into something else was like admitting defeat. Not the way I wanted to start the night.

There was one other option.

As a white witch, I wasn’t supposed to use my powers for personal gain. Most of the time I tried not to use them at all. Sadie, Tully, and Monica had called me a freak ever since I’d healed Sadie’s dog when the poor thing had been hit by a car when we were fifteen.

It’s true what they say. No good deed goes unpunished.

The jeans truly were unbearable though. Surely a little extra fabric give wouldn’t throw the cosmos out of whack?

Before I could talk myself out of it, my hands began to glow. I blew out a breath and then stretched the denim out until I could breathe.

The muffin top was still there. But at least the jeans weren’t cutting off circulation like a boa constrictor anymore.

I had just pulled on a navy scoop neck that hid the fat roll when the door burst open.

“Mom!” Hayden, sporting her Wilderness Chick’s signature uniform and a headband with a pair of cheesy black cat ears attached, stood hands-on-hips in the doorway. Her ash-blond hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and her blue eyes snapped with excited pre-candy energy. “Hurry up.”

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” I asked my daughter and tried not to feel guilty for abusing my powers. “I might have been doing something private.”

“Ew,” she said. “Grossness.”

“Not like that.” I rolled my eyes. She was way too mature for twelve. My fault since I let her watch all the same Netflix shows as I did. I hated watching television alone.

“Come on. I told Zoe and Michelle we would meet them up the street at five-thirty and it’s almost time.” The last word came out as a borderline whine.

“Out,” I pointed to the door.

“What’s taking so long?” She bounced on her toes with obvious impatience.

My daughter was oblivious to the magic that threaded through our family line. It wasn’t something I was actively keeping from her. I just hadn’t gotten around to mentioning it yet. And I didn’t want the first conversation to be, I just abused my powers so I didn’t sport a muffin top.

Hashtag, #parentingfail.

Just looking at her and imagining thirteen more like her made me tired. I wanted wine. A bath. To sleep for a week, or at least until I had to sign for the bakery delivery come morning.

Anything but a night of the mean girls' mom pack, led by my arch enemy, Sadie Fitzgibbons-Carter.

Maybe I should just call it. I’d seen too many movies where the heroine passed out because her corset was too tight. The last thing I needed was to be carted off like a beached whale in front of Sadie, Monica, and Tully because I hadn’t added enough magical stretch to my pants. “Go wait downstairs. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Hayden frowned. “Where’s your costume?”
“No costume,” I declared. “We talked about this.”

“But all the other moms are going in costume!” she cried.
The preteen melodrama was heavy in the air tonight. I blew out a breath and then winced as my denim torture shifted into my liver. “Look, I don’t want to lose my badge as the most fun mom ever but I’m putting my foot down on this one. No costume.”

“Here.” She took the black cat ear headband off her head and handed it to me. “At least do a headband.”

Rather than continue to argue, I put on the stupid headband. Like the pants, it was too tight. And I was wearing blue, not black, so I didn’t look much like a black cat.

Of course, it would be dark out and most likely no one would notice. I’d bring my backpack and stash the ears before any of the other moms caught sight of me.

“Happy?” I rounded on Hayden and let her see the entire train-wreck that was her mother. “Behold your future.”

She barely gave me a glance. Instead, she gripped my hand and tugged me out the door. “Let’s go.”

Boots, our actual black cat, sat like a fat, fluffy gargoyle on the windowsill. He turned his disapproving yellow stare my way as I struggled to find my left shoe.

“Did you feed him?” I asked while tugging the laces taut. “Because you know he’ll murder us in our sleep if you forget.”

I was only half joking. Boots was a stray and not the friendliest cat in the world. And missing meals resulted in him yowling a feline threat at the foot of my bed at three in the morning.

Hayden rolled her eyes but ran down the hall. A cabinet banged in the kitchen and then the telltale sound of feline crunchies hitting the ceramic dish as well as the linoleum.

“Clean it up!” I hollered.

“Urgh,” Hayden griped. The cabinet slammed again and then there was a creak from the pantry. She was at that I’m gonna talk back but still do what I’m told phase of adolescence. I was dreading the day she realized I possessed no real authority and refused to follow instructions. I wasn’t the hard-ass mom type and with her father fully out of the picture since before Hayden was born, I was flying solo on the parenting gig.

Boots was the only male in our lives and he was enough of a needy pain in the keister.

Hayden flew down the hall and leapt over Boots as he hopped down and sauntered off to inspect her tribute, belly swaying back and forth.

“Rock on with your bad self,” I said to Boots. “Put it all out there.”

I added an extra inch to the pants and took a full breath right before Hayden noticed.

“Are you ready?” she huffed, hand on the doorknob.

I made a show of checking my backpack for my wallet, phone, and keys, plus tissues, Chapstick, hand sanitizer, and a small container of breath mints. Then slowly, I reached for my tan trench coat. “I think so but maybe I should—”

A laugh escaped as she gripped my sleeve and bodily dragged me out into the night.

Magical Midlife Misadventures
1. Over the Faery Hill
2. The Fae Side of Forty
3. Faery Wine

Muffin Top and Magic

Misadventures of the Laundry Hag
1. Prequel Who Needs A Hero
2. Skeletons in the Closet
3. Swept Under the Rug
4. All Washed Up
5. Hung Out to Dry
6. The Laundry Hag’s Christmas Rental
7. Bun in the Oven
8. The Laundry Hag’s New Year’s Clean-Up

Start reading or listening to ebooks and audio in just 3 easy steps!

1. Purchase the ebooks or audiobooks using the email where you want to receive the items.

2. Receive the download link from Bookfunnel via email or reach out to them directly at help@bookfunnel.com

3. Send the stories to your preferred e-reader, read/ listen online, or access the stories in the Bookfunnel app!