Wicked sorceress Cora must ruin someone's life before her eighteenth birthday or lose her magic forever, a task made tricky when she falls for her chosen victim.
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Cora Emerson is a magical misfortune who just can't get the hang of being a wicked...
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There'd be no rest for the wicked. Not even on Sunday. Stella wouldn't allow it.
Pots, bowls, and different arrangements of oils, butters, and glass jars had exploded in a muddled mess in their kitchen. Cora spilled a gobbet of Cocoa Coconut Face Cream all over the counter, which had earned her a reprimand from her mother.
"That should come out of your wallet," Stella warned.
Cora knew her well enough to be extra cautious from then on.
Though a bad batch of Made with Magic had given a customer a snout, sales for Cocoa Coconut Face Cream had come in by the dozens. There hadn't been any more complaints so far. With only four of them at work, as usual, her plans to spend the rest of the weekend lazing around had been dashed aside. Early evenings in November meant it would be dark before long, the sky already a shameless vermillion.
A cozy night wrapped in a blanket with a warm drink and a book (either the one she'd bought herself or Beau's) was inconceivable.
"Did you add enough essential oil?" Stella hovered behind her, eyeing the mixture as if they hadn't used the same recipe for months. "We can't afford any mishaps. Not again."
She marched around the island, fully in Drill Sargent mode.
Cora shut her eyes, going to a quiet place within herself. Any rudeness and Stella would deduct from her allowance. One dollar for an annoyed sigh. Two dollars an eyeroll. Five for a rude retort. A pool of sweat had gathered beneath her bra. She had a cramp in her arm from mixing because a simple blending charm wasn't tolerated.
"You're going to have to stir faster than that, Mom." Stella harried Agatha. "Come on. At that pace, we'll be here until the day Mariam keels over."
"I'm doing my best, Stella," Agatha said in her sweetest leave-me-alone tone.
Stella concurred, fixing her attention on Willow in the living room. "I want those labels pristine. We don't have enough to make mistakes. Willow, did you hear me?"
"Yes, Mom. I think the whole of Perth, Australia, heard you."
"Hey, no back chat. Those fingers better be working on that keyboard."
"Trust me, they are."
Stella didn't buy it. "I better go check on her. You two keep it up."
As soon as she left, Cora stopped mixing to massage her aching hands. "We've been at this for hours." She groaned. "Mom's gone tyrant." Stella had always been a perfectionist but this, this was madness.
"I think it's about time we hired some help." Agatha set her bowl aside. "Either that or it's come to an end."
"I wish." Cora agreed with her grandmother. It wasn't like they couldn't afford to hire more hands, but Stella had her ways about her, which would drive her family insane. At least if they hired a few people to get the job done, her mother would have time to relax.
