Casual
Curses and Meticulous Magic
The
Gramarye Series
Book
I
Lee
Roland
Genre:
Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Publisher:
Highland Press
Date
of Publication: September 24, 2014
ISBN:
978-0-9916439-2-9
ASIN:
B00NOZCUB0.
Number
of pages: 292
Word
Count: 92,000
Cover
Artist: Iris Hunter
Book
Description:
What
happens when a dysfunctional witch and a tough PI work together to
save an aging apartment house filled with ghosts, dragons and one
oversexed house plant?
Spirits,
spells and mayhem…Magic rises in the Gramarye
Melian
Devlin is a witch who often resorts to exotic and slightly illegal
methods of acquiring money to maintain the 300-year-old Gramarye, the
stone apartment house that’s her heart and home. Her life is a
series of skirmishes that occasionally end with her behind bars.
Titus
Moran is a no-nonsense PI who makes big bucks busting insurance fraud
schemes. So how did he wind up in a tortuous battle to keep Melian
out of jail? Did the delightful young witch with her gray eyes and
magic at her fingertips enchant him—or does the Gramarye hold
greater mysteries.
Titus
will enter a new exciting world when he joins Melian in her quest to
save the Gramarye. Melian will fumble along in her usual impulsive
way, leaving a trail of disasters behind her. If they’re lucky,
they might survive.
Chapter
1
Melian
Devlin considered her arrest late Friday evening an ill omen, a
portent of dire thingsto come. At the very least, it would ruin her
weekend. Her bad luck had continued after her arrest when she’d
found herself standing before Judge Franklin P.O. Merkle. Merkle’s
exact words were, “You again?”
He’d
set her bail at an obscene five thousand dollars.
Psychic
readings weren’t illegal in the City of Ashburn, Florida, but
selling magic potions skirted the legal line of medicine, hence her
arrest. And then there was the sticky issue of not having a business
license—again. Minor infractions. So why did Merkle have such a
burr up his ass? Maybe because he was working late on Friday? The
malicious cop with an aversion to psychics hadn’t helped either.
Standing
behind bars at ten o’clock that night, listening to her Great Uncle
Will royally chew her butt, confirmed Mel’s dismal assessment of
the situation.
“Psychic?”
Will’s deep voice rumbled the word. His tired eyes watched her from
a weather worn face. “Mel, honey, you ain’t no psychic. You’re
a witch. You’re supposed to use magic.”
He
shook his head. “I understand why you can’t get a regular job,
but can’t you find something irregular you’re good at? Or at
least something legal?” He glanced over his shoulder and pitched
his voice lower. “You should’ve marked a cop soon as he walked in
the door, then spelled him out of making an arrest. You’re allowed
basic self-defense. I taught you that.”
Mel
winced at Uncle Will’s words. He had taught her. She was simply
incredibly incompetent at casting spells and making potions, and
utterly terrified of making a mistake. What if she hurt someone?
Pretending to be a psychic and selling a few harmless herbal elixirs
was easier—and safer.
They’d
put her in a simple holding cell inside the precinct station after
she’d seen the judge. The arrangement gave detainees a chance to
post bail before they moved them to the main jail downtown, something
Mel had hoped to avoid. Prospects didn’t look good.
The
sparse cell had a single bench bolted to the floor and air filled
with the odor of acrid, nose-searing bleach. Her cellmates, two tough
prostitutes, sat on the bench staring straight at the wall. Imperfect
witch she might be, but she could still deal with the bullying they
tried when she first came in.
“Will,
please,” Mel begged. “Go talk to Milo for me. Give him an IOU.
I’ll get the money some way.” Milo the Bail Bondsman, her
father’s second cousin, usually handled her bail. Milo hadn’t
returned any of her numerous calls.
“Yeah.
Sure.” Will laughed, but it didn’t sound funny. “Gettin’
money some way is what landed you here. I can hear Milo now. Cousin
Melian? She told my Granny Panopoulos to put all her money on a horse
named Show-Too in the third race and—”
“I
told her thirty dollars to show on the number three horse, not… Oh,
hell.” She wrapped her hands around the bars to steady herself.
Granny
Panopoulos had cried to Mel about not being able to pay her mortgage
and buy food in the same month. She figured Granny could lose thirty
dollars and learn an excellent lesson about the futility of gambling.
How was Mel to know the woman had fifty thousand dollars tucked in
her mattress and a persistent bookie looking over her shoulder? Oh,
right, she was supposed to be a psychic.
“Okay,
girl, here’s the deal.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets like
he always did when he had to deliver bad news. “I’ll get you out
on Monday—” “Monday?”
“Yep.
I’m not going to call Milo on a Friday evening or ruin his weekend.
And I don’t trust anyone else.” Will’s head bobbed. His
sorrowful expression tore at her. His eyes remained bright and his
mind-dagger sharp, but time had worn his aging body. He loved her,
and she shouldn’t have troubled him.
“Ya’
know Mel...” He sighed. “Honey, you’re twenty-seven years old.
Couple of days and nights in jail won’t hurt. ‘Bout time you
learned a lesson. Past time, in fact. While you’re there, think
about having to stay longer, what might happen then.” He turned and
shuffled out of the room.
Mel
leaned her forehead against the cold hard bars. What a stinking mess.
She wasn’t a true psychic, but the power, the magic she lived by,
occasionally gave her glimpses into the situations surrounding
people. A haphazard thing she couldn’t control, but between it and
the potions, she made a little money—as long as some cop with an
attitude didn’t arrest her.
Mel
had paid little attention when the nervous young man with dark, curly
hair entered her low-rent storefront room four hours ago. He had a
sweet, shy smile and almost pretty face. Not a hint of a cop in him.
He paid her forty dollars for a reading and asked her if he would
ever find true love. His precise words. “True love.” That alone
should have tipped her off. She felt sorry for him and tried to sell
him a magic potion. Only a twenty-dollar mixture of Vitamin B and
Ginseng, but with the power of suggestion, it might be enough to
adjust his outlook on life. He was far too good-natured and
attractive to be alone. Then his partner had charged in and gleefully
busted her. It didn’t take much to make some cops happy.
About
the Author:
Lee
Roland is a full time writer who lives in North Central Florida. She
loves the peaceful rural area where she shares a home with three
small dogs who think they are pit bulls and an evil cat with sharp
claws.
Lee
writes stories of urban fantasy and paranormal romance where strong
men and women battle the wickedness hiding under the surface of the
modern world. Her characters are passionate in life and love and are
formidable enemies to the malevolent criminals in their worlds.
Her
first series, the Earth Witches, was published beginning in 2011 by
NAL. Her website, www.leeroland.com offers samples of the Earth
Witches books and information on their world. There are short stories
and news of any upcoming books and events.
Rules for Magical
Worlds
A Guest Post by Lee Roland
The curious mind of
a creative writer determines the rules when he or she builds a
magical world, and sets the stage for larger than life characters to
act out their stories.
The most exciting
and enchanting things happen, though, when someone breaks the rules.
What if a witch grew sharp teeth and started sucking blood? Or a
furry and fanged werewolf dressed in a suit and went shopping at the
mall? What if a demon started cuddling, feeding and adopting stray
kittens?
In some instances,
the rules for a magic world are clearly stated. Take Melian Devlin,
witch-heroine in Casual Curses and Meticulous Magic. She’s trying
to explain magic to her soon to be lover Titus Moran. Titus has no
idea of the wild enchanting world she’s about to dump on him.
“First
and biggest rule, don’t use magic to hurt non-witches. Regular
people like you and your mom have no defense against it.” Mel
lowered her eyes. “Magic can kill. We can only use it for
self-defense or survival.
“Second
rule? We’re not supposed to use magic to gain personal wealth. That
draws too much attention. We live secret lives—for good reason.
History will tell you that. Witches have always been on the ‘somebody
get a rope’ or ‘let’s build a nice big fire’ list.”
Melian’s
problem? The bad guys keep breaking those rules and circumstances
force her to take radical action.
Melian
offers other rules that are a bit more oblique.
“I
know. You’re going to have a bumpy ride at first. Everything is
connected in magic, Tiger. Everything. Only thing that changes is the
distance and angle.”
Everything
is connected in magic. That’s often a big one. It’s the
“figuring out” the connections drives the protagonists toward a
goal.
Too
often, magical rules are determined by television and movies. One
person, after reading a scene in a book said, “Vampire bodies? But
that’s not right. Vampires turn to dust when they’re staked.”
The reader closed the book because it didn’t follow his version of
the rules.
One
question asked of magical novels, “Is it urban fantasy or
paranormal romance?” More rules to deal with. It seems as if the
focus of romance is the love story and saving the world is an
afterthought. Urban fantasy saves the world first, and sometimes
people fall in love. Both genres are great, but some readers feel
the need to slap a specific label on a novel and put it in its place.
If a
reader approaches each novel with an open mind and allows the writer
to develop their world and guide the protagonists through the maze,
that book can reward the reader with all the creative energy the
writer can offer. That’s what it’s all about. The reward.
Forget the rules and enjoy the story.
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