{"product_id":"magic-and-mischief-at-the-wayside-hotel-isbn-9780593955741","title":"Magic and Mischief at the Wayside Hotel","description":"\u003cb\u003eWhen a magical hotel appears smack-dab in the middle of the most unmagical of worlds, the last thing the residents expect is to fall in love.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eManager of the Number Five Wayside Inn and World Travel Hub, Pax Nomen has one of the easiest jobs in all the known universes, unless you count the occasional plumbing disaster. When Number Five Wayside gets stranded on a non-magical world, even Pax's trusty \u003ci\u003eWayside Handbook\u003c\/i\u003e can’t help him. How is he going to “reboot” the hotel and keep it on its magical journey?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosie LaChusia is a single mom experiencing debt, having parenting doubts, and tipping dangerously toward depression when an ad pops up on her phone that an apartment is available in a building she’s never seen before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePax needs a new guest to restart his hotel, and Josie needs a nudge to restart her life. In a building occupied by faeries, gargoyles, and a gnome with a bad attitude, two souls from very different places come together to create a home like no other.\u003cb\u003ePraise for Elizabeth Everett\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Beautiful and important.”—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Julia Quinn on \u003ci\u003eThe Love Remedy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Smart is the new sexy, and Elizabeth Everett does both better than anyone else!\"—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Ali Hazelwood\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Everett balances humor, heart, and magic with poise and perfect balance.\"—Neely Tubati Alexander, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eCourtroom Drama\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Elizabeth Everett has created an absolutely magical world inside Number Five Wayside! I fell head over heels not just for Josie and Pax, but for the hilarious and heartwarming gang of characters, from the cheerleading pixies to the vegan zombies. With a love story as affirming as it is steamy, a richly woven new magical world, and the found family of my dreams, \u003ci\u003eMagic and Mischief [at the Wayside Hotel]\u003c\/i\u003e... is my new favorite cozy fantasy romance. Everett is a master of the craft and I can't wait to see what her marvelous brain comes up with next!\"—Falon Ballard, \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eSomething Wicked\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Fizzy, engrossing romance . . . a wholehearted celebration of women who choose to live gleefully outside the bounds of patriarchy's limitations.\"—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e on \u003ci\u003eA Lady’s Formula for Love\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Dazzling.\u003ci\u003e A Love by Design \u003c\/i\u003eis full of heart, brains, and white-hot sizzle.\"—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Lynn Painter\u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cb\u003eElizabeth Everett \u003c\/b\u003elives in upstate New York with her family. She likes going for long walks or (very) short runs to nearby sites that figure prominently in the history of civil rights and women’s suffrage. Her writing is inspired by her admiration for rule breakers and her belief in the power of love to change the world.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI propose we move ITEM NUMBER ONE: DISCUSSION OF IMPENDING DOOM down on the agenda, Maddy.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe speaker, a tiny man swathed in a frothy white beard, stood on a folding chair in the hotel ballroom. His tall, red, cone-shaped hat was too big and kept sliding down his forehead when he gesticulated.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhich he did. A lot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I got a plugged-up crapper that needs to be addressed first.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If you varied your diet, Denis, you wouldn't have so many issues,\" Maddy scolded. She pushed her black cat's-eye reading glasses farther up her nose, her hair writhing beneath a strawberry-pink headscarf.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDenis huffed and rolled his eyes. \"I'm not plugged up. My toilet is plugged up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePax Nomen would rather eat dragon shit than run a meeting, but he did have a sense for danger and this crowd was already bubbling with tension and magic. The werewolves were eyeing the faeries a little too hungrily, the ghosts kept corporealizing in compromising positions, the dragon from the third floor had broken four folding chairs, the Fate siblings were quarreling, and the centaur refused to put on pants. Throw in the constipated gnome and an irritated medusa, things could get ugly quick.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe stepped forward from the shadows and put a hand on Maddy's shoulder. She was an incredibly efficient assistant manager, emphasis on manage, and sometimes got carried away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlthough, it wouldn't kill Denis to eat a piece of fruit occasionally.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The agenda doesn't change,\" Pax said in the voice he used to discipline his troops. \"Doom first. Toilets are for number two.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDenis turned red and the faery princesses broke into laughter, sending a spray of faery dust from the rafters where they perched.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt might have been actual dust-the room having seen better days. The curtains were yellowed with age, the beige Berber rug showed burn marks, and cobwebs swung gently in the corners of the ceilings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA month ago, sheer curtains had been tied back with silk ribbons and blinding sunlight had blanketed the parquet floor. Thousands of crystals hanging from the grand chandelier had tossed confetti of tiny rainbows onto the walls and everything had smelled of roses and dancing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe chandelier disappeared last week. In its place now hung three banks of fluorescent lights, one out of every four burnt out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Let's get back to the agenda,\" Maddy said. \"Are we ready?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePer the check-in agreement, meetings at the Number Five Wayside Hotel and World Travel Hub began with a recitation of the Wayside Oath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe shall not kill within the walls of the Wayside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe will show respect for the customs of all creatures.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo loud noises after ten in the evening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hotel manager will be informed of \u003cbr\u003eany and all damages.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo break this oath is to suffer eternal torment \u003cbr\u003eand a fifty-dollar service fee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter a century of leading soldiers into the worst of battles, of hunting the kinds of monsters that nightmares were made from, of sacrificing his soul and sanity in the protection of innocents, Pax had assumed being a hotel manager would be easy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnly took one week managing Number Five Wayside for him to accept how very, very wrong he'd been.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNumber Five Wayside was the fifth and smallest of six World Travel Hubs that managed the ebb and flow of magic throughout the universe through a schedule of tides. Anyone wishing to visit another world checked into a Wayside until they traveled far enough down the flow to reach their destination.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlthough the general length of time between worlds was common knowledge, there were no guarantees on this journey-Waysides had a mind of their own.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLiterally.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were living organisms: six hearts pumping rivers of magic through the universe. Beacons of hope and light to worlds under constant threat from the forces of Darkness, the Waysides were the only truly safe places in the universe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd they were dying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePax had been dying as well. Lying in the mud, trapped beneath his injured horse, bleeding from a hole in his gut when lightning had flashed across the sky. He'd been promised a glorious ending as a reward for his service as a paladin in the Army of Light-a knight sworn to protect the roads between the worlds from the forces of Darkness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInstead, a building had appeared. Manny Quintas, Number Five's previous hotel manager, had ambled out and crouched at Pax's side, oblivious to the screams of dying men and the stench of rotting bodies around them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm retiring to a time-share by the beach,\" Manny had explained. \"Used to be the Waysides were a place to gather and get to know one another. Grand bargains agreed to, symphonies written, and legendary love stories played out in its halls. Now, it's in and out and no-kill be damned. I don't want to live like that anymore. So, you got about five minutes to decide. Burn up in a blaze of glory with a hole in your stomach or be a hotel manager as your universal reward.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf Pax had known what was in store for him, he might have chosen the gruesome death from a gut wound.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnclogging Denis's toilet had certainly taken a few years off his life.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Are we talking impending doom for the universe or just us?\" Denis asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"When are we going to talk about the laundry room rules?\" someone else called out. \"Some people may have forgotten it is not okay to take out someone's wet clothes and leave them out-don't give me that face, Denis.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Number Six Wayside disappeared last month,\" Pax said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe room quieted at the reminder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Number Three Wayside is flickering in and out of existence,\" he continued. \"Numbers One, Four, and Five are the only functioning Waysides left.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt began with a stuck door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne of the gargoyles, Ernie, had taken the elevator up from the games room. Instead of the quiet ding that usually accompanied the opening or closing of the elevator door, there had been a low rumble, like a burp, and the shuddering doors had refused to open.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePax had never heard of an elevator malfunction, and it had given him a bad feeling. He had dutifully consulted his handbook while Ernie complained about his fear of small places and a need for the bathroom and other guests complained about taking the stairs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe problem was a case of cantankeropenup. After an incantation of soothing words and a wave of cherry-scented incense, the elevator doors opened.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs soon as the elevator doors came unstuck, the exit stairway lights went out. The second Pax changed the light bulbs, the decorative wrought iron railing where the iron birds lived came loose.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe golden needle on a small gauge labeled \"±Þ˜š¬¥‡\" affixed to the main boiler dropped from 100 percent to 75 percent. The ±Þ˜š¬¥‡, or hypsidoodle, was the measure of fuel left in Number Five's \"tank.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo one had ever heard of a Wayside running out of fuel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEver.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA trickle of small nuisances turned into a river of damage. Doors disappeared. Frantic pigeons had been sent between Number Five and the other Waysides with the shocking news that all the Waysides were stricken by the same strange malady.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hypsidoodle's golden needle dropped again to 35 percent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFive days ago, a series of low silvery chimes rang out through the building: a signal of a new world approaching. When Number Five stopped, however, it was in a world no one recognized.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo one left and no one checked in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDays passed before the truth became clear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey were stuck.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStuck on a world with only the slightest trace of magic, like a ship thrown up on a beach after a storm.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hypsidoodle was empty.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNumber Five was out of gas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWithout the Waysides, travel between worlds would end. Trade would cease, families would be torn apart, and, worse, the flow of magic keeping them alive would be blocked and would stagnate, and eventually magic would disappear altogether. The battles Pax had waged for the Light to protect magic would have been for nothing and the forces of Darkness would win.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNothing like this had ever happened before. No one knew what would come next.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Doom\" was putting it mildly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Impending doom for the entire universe unless we figure out what is happening with the Waysides,\" Pax clarified.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What did the Wayside Operating Manual say to do when Number Five runs empty?\" asked Denis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The manual says, 'In case of dire emergency, reboot'\" Pax said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Reboot? What the heck does that mean?\" Denis asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well,\" Pax said, rubbing the soft stubble on his chin, \"I have an idea.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosephine LaChiusa took comfort in the fact universally acknowledged that a lunchtime walk with two women in their mid-fifties will include discussion of what their twentysomething children are doing wrong (everything), what their husbands have gotten right (nothing), and the daily indignities of aging.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll she had to do was nod every so often and her officemates, Barbara DeVane and Jenna Brown, would tow her in the wake of their conversation, leading her across slush-covered streets and down haphazardly shoveled sidewalks, braving the stinging wind on the stone pedestrian bridges crossing the river bordering the university campus where they worked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosie would give anything to live in one of the old mansions renovated into lovely condos sandwiched between campus and the riverbed. Picturing mornings with a steaming cup of coffee on an unstained couch and sunlight drenching the Persian-carpeted floor, Josie decorated her apartment in her head, adding an eat-in kitchen, a clothes closet of her own, and a reading nook where she and Amos could curl up for bedtime stories.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe whiplash of reality when her daydreams faded gave her a headache. A widowed mom with no savings and no family support, Josie spent every waking moment keeping her head above water. There were no such things as leisurely mornings with coffee and certainly no such thing as a beautiful home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer landlord had raised the rent again, and this time, Josie wouldn't be able to swing it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey turned the corner, Jenna and Barbara holding on to each other as they traversed craters of ice formed on unshoveled sidewalks. The enormous oaks and skeletal sugar maples on the riverside were cramped, their roots pushing through the sidewalks, adding to the treacherous footing. The larger homes were interspersed with small apartment buildings and a Donuts Delite hunkered down at the end of the street, its cheerful white-and-blue facade loud against the fading charm of the older structures.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNodding along as Barbara complained that the drier her insides, the wetter her outsides, Josie drew in a deep breath. She exhaled a wish, one of many unheard pleas to the universe that she could find a safe place and the world would be gentle with her child.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGradually, Barbara and Jenna ran out of complaints so only the shushing sound of tires over wet snow accompanied them. Waiting back on Josie's desk were three more hours' worth of work, a slew of emails from her insurance company about her son's latest checkup, and her boss's infernal premeeting packets. Just another day in the fascinating world of student financial aid at a private university. None of that was going anywhere, so she slowed her pace, even though her toes were turning numb.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntil her phone pinged in her purse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe couldn't ignore the pings. Not with Amos's finicky heart. That wasn't his official diagnosis but try saying \"tetralogy of Fallot\" to a four-year-old and all you get is a blank stare. Josie pulled the phone from her purse and paused. She'd set up notifications for an apartment search when she found out the rent on her place was going up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere had been nothing for three weeks and Josie was pretending not to panic. This notification said . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Guys?\" Josie looked up. Her walking companions were half a block ahead of her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenna and Barbara turned around. The cowlick in the back of Jenna's white hair stuck up over her knitted ear warmers, and with her monochromatic white snow pants and parka, she looked like a stork. Next to her, Barbara's long gray locs were wrapped in a multicolored crocheted turban, and her green wool coat and red moon boots contrasted violently with both Jenna's ensemble and the gray-on-white snow covering everything.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I got a notification of an apartment matching my requirements,\" Josie told them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Probably something wrong with it,\" said Jenna.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Did you hear about that landlord hiding a secret camera in his tenants' bathrooms?\" Barbara asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosie nodded. \"So, it turns out it's on this block. Can you believe the luck?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You'll be two minutes away from work. Don't think the boss won't take advantage of that,\" said Jenna.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"That's suspicious you got a notification of an apartment on this block while you were walking by. How do you know it's not a cyberkidnapping?\" asked Barbara.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAgain, Josie nodded. The best part about Jenna's and Barbara's intense absorption with the worst case was Josie didn't have to argue with them about the likelihood of either of those things happening.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'll only take ten minutes,\" Josie said, walking backward and waving at them as she squinted at address numbers on the buildings. \"No one will miss me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Okay, no problem,\" said Jenna.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Don't die,\" Barbara called, and the two of them turned their backs to Josie and started walking again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat was Barbara's standard goodbye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven at Christmas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"4473 . . . 4481 . . .\" Josie counted the building numbers as she walked down the sidewalk. \"5555 . . . oh, would you look at that?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat was the six-story wine-colored brick building sitting far back from the sidewalk. A blanket of untouched spring snow covered the front lawn, and the walkway had been neatly shoveled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe notification had said apartment tours were available today, beginning every half hour in the front lobby. Josie sent Barbara a text as she walked up to the building, telling her she would let her know as soon as she finished.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBetter to head Barbara off at the pass. Josie didn't want to come back to work only to find search parties assembling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHedges of waist-high holly bushes flanked her at the entrance. The outside doors were made of a heavy, dark wood, and two brass knockers in the shape of opened eyes hung on each door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosie's skin tightened over her bones and her stomach flipped like it did at the slow climb of a roller coaster.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSomething was very right about this place, on this day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePushing inward on the dulled brass door handles revealed a high-ceilinged lobby with black-and-white-tiled floors. A bank of stairs at her left had wrought iron banisters twisted in the shape of birds, roses, and fleurs-de-lis. The stairs stopped at a landing, where a tall, thin table held a vase of dried flowers before it continued out of sight.","brand":"Ace","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233361866981,"sku":"NP9780593955741","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593955741.jpg?v=1767732070","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/magic-and-mischief-at-the-wayside-hotel-isbn-9780593955741","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}