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The Kitchen Witch Books 7-9 (EBOOK BUNDLE)

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EBOOK BUNDLE. Books 7, 8, and 9 in this delightful paranormal cozy mystery series, The Kitchen Witch, from USA Today Bestselling author, Morgana Best.

Book 7. Spellcheck

Amelia Spelled, has had her fill of murders, but this one takes the cake. Her boyfriend, Alder, has been battered in the line of duty, so his attempts to help are half-baked.
When she takes cupcakes to the local nursing home, she is met with a frosted reception by the subsequent murder victim.

Book 8. The Halloween Love Spell

When Marina Mercer comes to claim her yearly spell, Amelia’s protests fall on deaf years. The last Halloween love spell nearly got Amelia killed; the house is distracted, and Amelia accidentally cooks up something she shouldn't.
Who is responsible for the murder of Amelia's obnoxious bank loan manager?
One thing is for certain: mayhem and burned cupcakes will ensue, as Amelia and foxy Private Detective Alder Vervain try to solve the murder while finding time for romance.
You can bank on that!

Book 9. Spell It Out

For Amelia Spelled, it's another case of déjà brew when a man dies at a Tea Leaf Reading. When the murderer draws a little too close for comfort, will the house come to the rescue, or is Amelia in for a steep shock? One thing's for sure, it's best to not chai this at home.

EBOOK BUNDLE OF 3 EBOOKS.

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Read a Sample

CHAPTER 1
BOOK 7, SPELLCHECK.

The doorbell rang just as I was getting out of the shower. I smacked my head. Camino was early. I had promised Camino we would have a girls’ afternoon watching trashy television, and that meant I had to wear one of her infamous onesies. She had come over the night before and left me a selection of three.
Alder had been staying at my place the last few days, but had slept the whole time. I had ordered in meals for him—after all, I didn’t want to kill him—and after he had eaten, he had gone back to sleep. I supposed being shot does that to someone. Still, he was recovering nicely, and today was spending the entire day at the hospital for a round of tests.
I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped into the bedroom, where the onesies were laid out on my bed. The first was a dinosaur onesie, complete with a huge tail that would no doubt sweep into chairs and tables, causing a huge mess. I immediately discarded that onesie and looked at the second. It was an elephant onesie, and the ears were enormous, at least twice the size of my head.
The last onesie was suspiciously normal. There was no huge tail and there were no huge ears. It was just red, and a nice red at that, one which would go well against my skin tone. Without looking, I grabbed the closest pair of undies and a bra, put them on, threw on the onesie, and hurried to answer the door. If I wasn’t so rushed, maybe I’d have been suspicious as to why there was a pleasant cool breeze on my bottom.
“Hello, Camino,” I said, flinging open the door. “Ready for a girls’ afternoon in?”
“Yes,” she said with delight. “I’m so glad Mint’s helping Thyme at the store, so we can have the afternoon off.” She looked me up and down, clearly doing her best to disguise her disappointment at my lack of animal-themed onesie. She was wearing a kangaroo onesie, but instead of a joey, her pouch was filled with snacks. “Will the house let us watch the Married At First Sight marathon?”
I nodded. “I think so. She’s been watching The Biggest Loser, and she’s been letting me watch whatever I want on TV if I eat at the same time.”
Camino nodded, and while it didn’t make much sense to me, I hoped against hope that a treadmill or an elliptical trainer wouldn’t suddenly appear in the living room, given the house’s current fondness for The Biggest Loser. It also didn’t make much sense that the house was inhabited by my departed grandmother, Thelma Spelled. I had only discovered this fact the past week, and it was taking quite some getting used to.
An hour into our television and junk food session, I was beginning to come around to this onesie idea, given there was so much room in it even after downing packet after packet of popcorn and chocolate. I didn’t get a chance to think on this any longer because the door bell rang for a second time that afternoon, only this time I wasn’t expecting anyone, because Alder was meant to be at the hospital, otherwise I’d have changed.
“Amelia.”
I opened the door to Alder, who was looking very dashing, albeit still pale. He looked me up and down, trying not to smile.
“You’re back early,” I said abruptly, trying not to sound too horrified. At least he was used to Camino’s onesies.
“Lovely to see you, too,” he said with a laugh.
I turned to let him into the house. I was about to say more, when there was a strange muffled sound.
I turned to see Alder doubled over. “Are you okay?” I was dismayed to see he was clutching the spot where he had been shot.
Camino, the giant kangaroo, hopped over. “How are you, Alder?”
“I’m fine,” Alder said, although both eyes were twitching. “They’ve given me the all clear. I can go home now.”
I hoped my disappointment wasn’t too apparent. I had hoped for romantic nights, sitting side by side, watching movies, and then kissing, to be honest. Yet there had been none of that. I found that strange, given that we were dating. Still, the man had been shot, and his face was an unpleasant shade of pale green. “Surely you can’t go back to work yet,” I said, as we walked into the living room.
Alder shook his head. “No, only paperwork for me for a while, I’m afraid. It’s been so good of you to look after me.” I nodded and bent down to stop Willow and Hawthorn scratching the side of the sofa instead of their expensive scratching post, as cats like to do, when Alder’s voice broke into a snuffling sound. After a moment, he composed himself. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Captain America.”
It took me a moment to understand what had happened. I excused myself and hurried to the bathroom, where I turned and looked in the mirror. The onesie had a bottom flap, and that bottom flap was swinging freely open, revealing the Captain America undies I’d thrown on without thinking.
That does it, I thought, embarrassment burning up my face. I can never see Alder again.