{"product_id":"a-magical-match-isbn-9780399584183","title":"A Magical Match","description":"\u003cb\u003eWitch and vintage store owner Lily Ivory faces her most difficult mystery to date with a case of mistaken identity that hits close to home...\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLily Ivory and her friends are planning a 1950s-themed brunch to benefit the local women's shelter.  When a figure from her past shows up unannounced, threatening her unless she returns something that belonged to him, Lily's fiancé, Sailor, steps in to defend her.  After the same man is found dead later that day, Sailor is the primary suspect.  He swears he's innocent, but multiple witnesses ID him as the perpetrator of the assault.  Lily vows to clear his name...only she's not sure where to start with the mounting evidence against him.  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eWhen she sees Sailor in the neighborhood despite knowing he's in jail, Lily starts to wonder if there could be a doppelganger in San Francisco. When she's not busy helping customers find matching outfits for the upcoming event, searching for a vintage wedding dress for her own nuptials, and dealing with an ill-timed magical cold, Lily begins to suspect one of her magical foes is targeting her loved ones in an attempt to weaken her.\u003cb\u003ePraise for the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Witchcraft Mysteries\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Blackwell sits firmly on my list of must-read authors!”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Victoria Laurie\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Extraordinarily entertaining.”—\u003ci\u003eSuspense Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hard to put down, and wickedly fun.”—MyShelf.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Juliet Blackwell is a master…Reading the entire series is a pleasure.”—Fresh Fiction\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An excellent blend of mystery, paranormal, and light humor.”—The Romance Readers Connection\u003cb\u003eJuliet Blackwell \u003c\/b\u003eis the pseudonym for the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author who writes the Witchcraft Mystery series and the Haunted Home Renovation series. She is also the author of \u003ci\u003eLetters from Paris\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Paris Key\u003c\/i\u003e. Together with her sister, Juliet wrote the Art Lover's Mystery series. The first in that series, \u003ci\u003eFeint of Art\u003c\/i\u003e, was nominated for an Agatha Award for Best First Novel.\u003cb\u003eChapter 1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The week had started out with such promise. But now my fiancé was      in the slammer, my grandmother's coven had gone missing, my      supposed witch's familiar was acting loopy, my powers appeared to      have dissipated, and the future of my beloved adopted city of San      Francisco was hanging in the balance. Oh, and a man had been      murdered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Maybe I should start at the beginning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Not long ago I was a simple vintage-clothing-store owner feeling      as if she needed to hire an event planner. My own rapidly      approaching wedding was on my mind, plus I'd been working with my      friend Bronwyn's Welcome coven to plan a mother-daughter      matching-outfit brunch, called the Magical Match, as a fund-raiser      for the Haight Street women's shelter. It was coming up this very      Sunday, and yet it had taken us an hour to agree upon the newly      designed flyers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At long last, we were moving on to item number two on the day's      agenda.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We sat in a circle, breakfasting on homemade muffins and sipping      strong cappuccinos and fragrant jasmine tea. Surrounding us was a      cascade of crinolines and        prom dresses, Jackie O hats and patent leather pumps-       all part and parcel of the inventory of Aunt Cora's        Closet, my shop in San Francisco's famed Haight-Ashbury      neighborhood. Oscar, my miniature Vietnamese potbellied pig-and      ersatz witch's familiar-snored faintly on his purple silk pillow      on the floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eMy\u003c\/i\u003e issue is, it feels a bit exclusive to restrict the party to      mothers and daughters,\" Bronwyn mused. \"What about fathers and      sons?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"True! After all, gender is fluid,\" said a coven member formerly      known as Amy. Recently Amy had changed her name to Wind Spirit,      but I kept forgetting to call her that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Or chosen families, for that matter?\" interjected Starr, and      several women nodded and \u003ci\u003emmm-h\u003c\/i\u003emmed in agreement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But I thought everyone was supposed to wear matching outfits,\"      said Wendy, getting back to the point. \"How's that going to work?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A spirited discussion among the members of the Welcome coven      followed. This was the Bay Area, after all, and a lot of us who'd      landed here were searching for a sense of family and community      that reached beyond the lines of blood and tradition. Besides, the      women of the Welcome coven were an inclusive bunch and didn't want      to leave anyone out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All of which made it hard to adhere to a talking point.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bronwyn Theadora Peters was a voluptuous fiftysomething Wiccan who      favored gauzy purple tunics and chunky natural stone jewelry.      Today her frizzy brown hair was crowned with a garland of      now-wilting daisies and cornflowers. She ran an herb stand in one      corner of Aunt Cora's Closet but was much more than a coworker to      me-truly she was one of my best friends. Bronwyn was one of the      first people I'd met when I arrived in San Francisco, and she had      welcomed me with a warm bear hug that blasted through my carefully      cultivated reserve. Ever since then, Bronwyn had stuck with me      through thick and thin, magical and mundane. I adored her,      appreciated her, and respected her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And sometimes she drove me crazy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This was one of those times. A pair of sweet polka-dot numbers      that had come into the store a couple of months ago had reminded      me of the early 1960s fad of matching mother-daughter dresses. The      garments inspired me to suggest the Welcome coven sponsor a simple      brunch fund-raiser for the Haight Street shelter and I offered to      hold it at Aunt Cora's Closet. The idea soon took on a life of its      own, ballooning into a gala event with such complicated logistics      that sometimes I wondered if we were organizing a simple tea or      invading a small nation. Planning the event had already taken up      far too much of my time and energy, in no small part      because-although I loved the Welcome coven-their nonhierarchical      structure and commitment to consensus didn't lend itself to quick      decisions.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This was \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e our first meeting. The Magical Match Tea was only      four days away, but we were still working out details, such as who      was allowed to attend.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I sneezed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eBlessed be!\u003c\/i\u003e\" rang out around the room, accompanied by a few      \"Gesundheits\" and a single \"Bless you,\" which engendered an      animated debate over the proper Wiccan response to a sneeze.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thank you,\" I said, accepting Bronwyn's offer of a tissue and      sneaking a glance at my antique Tinker Bell wristwatch. I had a      lot to do today, not the least of which was to prepare for the      arrival of my grandmother and her coven of enchanting, effusive,      but elderly witches. Ten days ago the thirteen women had climbed      onto an old school bus and taken off on a road trip from Texas to      California. Just this morning they had sent selfies to Bronwyn's      cell phone-I didn't carry one, because I worried its energy would      interfere with my magic-from an In-N-Out Burger drive-through in      Salinas, California.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I wasn't entirely sure how they had ended up in Salinas, which was      not on the most direct route from Texas to San Francisco, but      thought it best not to ask. Miss Agatha, the designated driver of      the ancient school bus, didn't especially like driving but had the      best eyesight of the bunch. Miss Agatha also had no sense of      direction, and so a two-day road trip from Texas stretched into      ten days as the busload of elderly witches zigzagged its way      through the Western states to San Francisco. Still, Salinas was      not far away, and barring any unforeseen problems or yet another      spontaneous side trip-at one point they had veered off to see the      Cadillac Ranch on Route 66, and they had lingered two whole days      in Vegas-they were due to arrive this afternoon, at the latest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sorry?\" I said when I realized Bronwyn had asked me a question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I saaaaaiiid,\" Bronwyn teased with a smile, \"did you ask Lucille      about her progress on the matching outfits for those who couldn't      find something in the store that fits?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The tinkle of the bell over the front door was a welcome      interruption.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I checked in with her yesterday morning,\" my assistant, Maya,      answered for me as she entered the shop, a to-go cup of steaming      chai tea in her hand. \"She hired a few extra helpers, so they're      on track, and still accepting some last-minute orders.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Maya's mother, Lucille, had recently moved her small production      team into the space next door to Aunt Cora's Closet. Lucille's      Loft Designs specialized in reproducing vintage fashions, which      was great since many women today could not fit into the older,      typically more petite clothing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Chalk one up for good nutrition. Not to mention potato chips.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, good. I'll be sure to touch base with your mother,\" I said,      jotting down a note to myself. \"Thanks for checking.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Guess who else was there when I stopped in,\" continued Maya.      \"Renee Baker, the cupcake lady.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A chill ran down my spine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I looooove those cupcakes!\" said Amy-er, Wind Spirit. She was      short, plump, and sweet-faced, favored ruffled baby-doll dresses,      and never let a coven meeting go by without making sure there were      ample baked goods available. \"Hey, would it be too late to ask      Renee about contributing to the Magical Match Tea? I'll bet she      wouldn't mind donating a dozen or two.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Honestly, I don't think we need another thing to eat at this      tea,\" I asserted. It was hard to explain to one and all why I was      wary of Renee Baker. But the truth was, the cupcake lady was      dealing in more than sugar. \"Or no one is going to fit into their      dresses.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No two ways about it: the Welcome coven had a sweet tooth. The      circle of women was even now feasting on Wind Spirit's chocolate      macadamia \"health biscuits,\" which tasted a lot more like dessert      than breakfast.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sorry to barge in on you,\" said Maya. \"I thought the planning      meeting was supposed to be over by nine thirty.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Actually, it \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e,\" I said, grateful for the excuse to wrap things      up. \"We need to bring this meeting to a close for today, I'm      afraid. In fact, I think we're just about set. We have a task      force ready to move my inventory into Lucille's shop on Saturday,      the flyers are approved, and the refreshment committee has put      together more food than we'll know what to do with.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That reminds me,\" ventured Starr. \"Do we think we should find a      larger venue for the brunch? No offense, Lily-your store is      darling, but it may be too small. We've sold so many tickets      already!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I sneezed again, prompting several suggestions for natural cold      remedies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thanks, but it's probably just allergies. I don't get colds. So,      back to the agenda . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Wendy-my best ally in keeping the group on task-nodded. \"You may      be onto something, Starr. But it would be tough to find someplace      at this juncture; the event's coming up in a few days.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What about Aidan's place?\" suggested Bronwyn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Aidan . . . as in \u003ci\u003emy\u003c\/i\u003e Aidan?\" My voice scaled upward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes! The wax museum would be \u003ci\u003eperfect\u003c\/i\u003e!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Aidan Rhodes was an important person in the Bay Area's witchy      community. He and I had had a few skirmishes in the past, and I      still owed him a magical debt. Big-time. Aidan had been nice to me      lately, but I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him and had      been avoiding him, even though he and I were theoretical allies in      the fight against a looming threat to our beloved San Francisco.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Besides, I found wax museums a little . . . creepy. All those      human-sized poppets, just begging to be brought to life. I      shivered at the thought. Not long ago I darn near burned the whole      place down. Not on purpose, of course-but still, I had played a      pivotal role in the conflagration. Aidan had only recently moved      back into the museum from his temporary quarters in the iconic San      Francisco Ferry Building.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Apparently, the coven sisters didn't share my opinion of wax      museums. \"What a great idea!\" was the overwhelming response.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Bronwyn, would you be willing to ask Aidan?\" asked Wendy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eI'll\u003c\/i\u003e do it,\" I offered, a little too loudly. \"I mean, I have to      see him about something else today, anyway. But I doubt he'll be      much help; Aidan doesn't own the wax museum, after all. He just      keeps an office there. Besides, we're talking about an event      happening in four days.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Roger that,\" Wendy said. \"Okay, Lily will talk to Aidan, but if      that doesn't work out, we'll just have to make do right here.      Everything's set to move all the merchandise next door to      Lucille's, right?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"She's ready for the onslaught,\" said Maya.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"One final thing before we go,\" said Starr. \"We need to take a      formal vote on whether all are welcome to the brunch, or just      mothers and daughters.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I'm no mind reader, but I could have predicted the outcome of this      vote: \u003ci\u003eYes\u003c\/i\u003e, all were welcome as long as the spirit of the      mother-daughter bond was in some way honored. The women stood,      gathered folding chairs, and swept up muffin crumbs, chattering      excitedly and thanking me for hosting them. I assured one and all      that I was pleased to offer my hospitality, and gently shooed them      out the door, waving good-bye as they departed and nodding my      thanks for several more suggestions of home remedies to stave off      colds.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Pay no attention to what they say,\" Bronwyn said as she started      gathering her things. \"All you need is eucalyptus oil, hot honey      lemonade, and the right attitude.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e I laughed. \"It's all about attitude, is it? Anyway, I don't have a      cold. I don't get colds.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, just like that! Perfect attitude.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bronwyn gave me an enveloping vanilla-scented hug and swept out to      meet her boyfriend, Duke, who was driving her to Petaluma for a      day of antiquing, with a quick stop at the seed bank for heirloom      tomato starts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amy-\u003ci\u003eWind Spirit\u003c\/i\u003e, I reminded myself-lagged behind. \"Lily, I hope      this isn't too presumptuous, but I came across this wedding dress      the other day, and I thought, just maybe . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She handed me a huge paper bag. Poufy clouds of white satin,      netting, and lace spilled out from the top.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing?\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bronwyn must have mentioned that I had been searching for the      perfect wedding dress for my upcoming nuptials. As owner of a      vintage clothing store, I was feeling even more pressure to find      just the right dress than the average jittery bride.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's probably not what you're looking for, but Lucille's so good      with alterations, and you should feel free to change it any way      you see fit. It was my aunt's, but she got divorced years ago and      it's just been sitting in the back of the closet, so no worries at      all about cutting it up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This is so thoughtful of you. Truly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No problem. See you later!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As the door closed behind her, blessed silence descended over Aunt      Cora's Closet. I leaned back against the door and sighed. Maya met      my eyes and smiled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"They're wonderful,\" I said as I brought the bag with the wedding      dress over to the counter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"They are,\" Maya replied.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And it's a great cause.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It is.\" She nodded, spraying the glass countertop with my      homemade vinegar and lemon verbena all-purpose cleaner. A lovely      citrus fragrance filled the air.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And they wear me out.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"They do.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e We shared a laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do you think the wedding dress will work for you? It was so sweet      of Wind Spirit to bring it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It looks a little . . . eighties,\" I said as I extracted the      wrinkled heap from the bag. It was made of inexpensive materials      that felt unpleasant to the touch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not exactly your favorite fashion era, the eighties,\" Maya said      with a nod. \"Still, it was thoughtful.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It was. And you never know. . . . Your mother's pure magic with a      needle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So, where are the grandmas this morning?\" Maya asked, stashing      the cleaning materials under the counter and turning to the large      paper map of the western United States that we had tacked up to a      bulletin board behind the register.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e What had started out as a joke had developed into a morning      ritual: putting a tack in the map to indicate the progress of the      busload of witches heading to San Francisco from my hometown of      Jarod, Texas. We traced their zigzag route with red string,      linking one thumbtack to the next. I told Maya their most recently      reported location was Salinas, and she pushed another tack into      the soft cork.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I can't wait to meet them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes, they’re. . . characters, all right,” I said, applyingthe nozzle of the steam machine to a 1950s ecrulinen blouse and watching the wrinkles miraculously disappear. Stifling yet another sneeze, I concentrated on my breathing and tried to project an air of calm, because, deep down, I was nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs if the imminent arrival of my grandmother and her coven sisters weren’t enough, my \u003ci\u003emother\u003c\/i\u003e was also on that bus.","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301411770597,"sku":"NP9780399584183","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780399584183.jpg?v=1767720623","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/a-magical-match-isbn-9780399584183","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}