King City lights swarmed my vision as we drove in. Around us, the bustle of the city filled the streets, crowds pushing their way to their destination. Even this late in the evening, there were people everywhere. Joe rolled up the windows, but we could still hear the clamor come in from outside. As the wheels of the truck glided across the frozen pavement, my mind traveled back home. I surely hoped Mom was all right running the cafe on her own. I had asked fellow witch and my good friend Cilia to help but it still worried me to leave her unattended. That woman could burn the place down in seconds.
I shuddered, trying not to worry myself into a shaking mess in the front seat.
Joe brought the car to a stop in front of a boarded up convenience store and unbuckled his seat belt.
“The lounge is not too far from here,” he announced. “Brian said there’s no parking, so I hope you don’t mind the walk.”
As we made our way to the exclusive lounge Brian’s friend reserved, I couldn’t help but gape. The city was a far cry from Orchard Hollow. No one smiled or said hello and I had forgotten how easy it was to feel invisible here. It wasn’t so long ago that I would have enjoyed the privacy, but lately, I had gotten used to prying eyes and gossiping mouths. Enough so to even miss them a little.
We turned down a dark alley and my nails dug into Joe’s arm. “Is this right?”
“It’s a speakeasy,” Joe exclaimed. His hand stretched to point to a barely there neon light peeking out from around the corner. “Right there.”
As we approached, I noticed an indistinguishable door in the wall that looked like any other alleyway back entrance. If not for the pointed arrow above our heads, I would have passed by it.
With a sly grin, Joe knocked on the door. There was a shuffle on the other side before a small compartment slid open at our eye level. Joe pointed his phone screen into the void and the compartment closed, the door bursting wide open a moment later. On the other side, a woman in a black and white suit stood with a warm smile on her face.
“Welcome to the Compendium,” she announced. “If you follow me, your party has already arrived.”
My jaw dragged on the floor as we marched down the narrow corridor.
Joe leaned in, his elbow nudging my side. “Pretty fun, no?”
“As long as we don’t get murdered.”
He laughed. “Only you would think that.”
The hostess continued to lead us down a second corridor, which opened up to a large, rectangular space. Beautifully crafted tables filled the room, and the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted past us. Each table was taken; this place was popular. To our right, a large mahogany bar sat stocked with enough bottles to make any drink one could think of. The dark green Victorian wallpaper peered out from between mismatched frames, each one depicting people who died decades ago.
It felt like stepping back in time. The tables, made from rich, polished wood, held flickering candles in elegant holders that made light dance across the room. Above the bar, vintage chandeliers with crystal drops hung from the ceiling, adding to the room’s already mysterious atmosphere. The bar itself was a masterpiece, with its dark, glossy surface reflecting the colorful array of bottles behind it. Rows of glasses, from martini to whiskey, were neatly arranged, ready to be filled.
As I absorbed the details, I noticed the deliberate decor choices that brought the room to life. Plush, velvet cushions in deep reds and greens upholstered the vintage chairs at each table. Small potted plants and fresh flowers were strategically placed, bringing a touch of nature indoors and enhancing the overall charm of the place. I rolled my gaze over the place to take it all in.
It was magical.
“Right this way,” the hostess said, pulling us forward.
We followed her to a round table near the rear of the lounge where two men were seated, deep in conversation. The first I recognized instantly from Joe’s pictures. Brian was every bit the werewolf and exactly what I would imagine from a pack alpha. He had a close-cut beard that hid his wide chin and eyes so attentive they made you pause when he looked at you. His hair was longer, but he kept it tied back in a stylish man-bun, accentuating a jaw cut with a knife.
Across from him, a man dressed in clothes that I assumed cost more than the farmhouse sat with a Cheshire grin spreading across his tanned face. His gray eyes looked us up and down and he leaned back into his chair, his lips curling. The only thing I thought of was how much Stella would love this guy.
“Joe! Piper! You guys made it,” Brian exclaimed. He jumped up to shake our hands, and I didn’t fail to notice that his friend didn’t follow suit. “Traffic all right?”
“We missed the worst of it,” Joe said.
He pulled out my chair, and I slid into it, gulping down the glass of water Brian poured to battle the awkwardness inside me. The sounds of mixed conversation and glasses clinking made my nerves hike and if I was honest, I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel we booked and spend a quiet night away from home.
“This is Tyler Khan,” Brian said, pointing to the snooty guy at the table. “Don’t let the suit fool you. He’s actually not so bad.”
Brian reached over to pat Tyler on the shoulder and I saw the art collector break into a laugh for the first time since we sat down. His shoulders dropped and his entire demeanor changed before our eyes. Heat flushed my neck and cheeks. Gran taught me not to judge people based on their appearance, and here I was, doing just that. Tyler invited us all the way here and the least I could do was give him the benefit of the doubt.
I stretched my legs under the table and tried to relax. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “And I have a friend who would love that suit.”
“Oh?” Tyler’s brows hiked. “Does she live in the city?”
She does not live at all. I coughed into my hand. “Not quite.”
Right at that moment, a server joined us, relieving me of further embarrassment. I let Joe and Brian order the drinks since I had no idea what some of the concoctions on the menu were, though the collector reassured me that they had the best gin in the city. Whatever that meant.
When the drinks arrived, I understood.
I picked up the sprig of rosemary garnishing my crystal glass. “It looks amazing.”
“Told you,” Tyler said with a wink. “Best gin.”
“Are you excited about the exhibit?” I asked. “Brian mentioned it’s highly anticipated.”
At that, Tyler leaned across the table, beckoning for the three of us to inch closer. We obeyed, our heads nearly touching as he whispered, “This can’t leave the table, but I have an ace up my sleeve.”
“Oh, please!” Brian said. “You say that every show.”
“No, truly, this time I mean it.” Reaching for his tie, Tyler loosened the knot, his eyes sparkling. “I may have secured an exclusive piece. One that has been lost to the world for decades.”
I was about to ask him more about it, but he kept on.
“As a matter of fact, why don’t you three join me in the studio after the show?” he asked.
Brian slapped a palm on the table. “A private tour, huh?”
“Something like that.”
After we all agreed to the plan, I finally took a sip of my drink, my taste buds dancing. If this is what Tyler meant about the best gin, I was here for it. In fact, I decided to corral Joe into stopping in a local shop to pick some up to take home before we left on Sunday. The night played on. All of us got lost in conversation and banter. Despite my earlier discomfort, I started to enjoy myself, the drinks playing a part in that, no doubt. Whatever the reason, I was glad we came out tonight.
This trip was exactly the break I needed.
Excerpt of Mistletoe, Mocha, and Murder Copyright © A.N. Sage with permission from Oliver-Heber Books.
Orchard Hollow #7
‘Tis the season…for a murder most foul.
When local witch, Piper Addison, gets invited by her vampire boyfriend to an art opening in the big city weeks before the holidays, she jumps at the chance to go. A night of art and festive fun is exactly what Piper needs. That, and to get away from her mother who is on a mission to throw the biggest Christmas party their small town has ever seen.
It is all candy canes and jolly until a dead body shows up and a priceless work of art gets stolen. Even worse, Piper can’t go back home until the killer is found and mother dearest is single-handedly running Piper’s cafe into the ground.
Talk about a yuletide disaster!
Can our witch entrust the help of her ghost familiar to help solve the murder before her entire life implodes? Or will this be a holiday she will sorely remember forever?
Mistletoe, Mocha, and Murder is a paranormal cozy mystery novella in the Orchard Hollow mystery series. Read A Grave Roast to see where Piper’s adventures started!
Mystery Cozy | Mystery Culinary | Novella / Short Story [Oliver-Heber Books, On Sale: December 3, 2024, e-Book, / ]
A.N. Sage is a bestselling, award-winning author of mystery and fantasy novels. She has spent most of her life waiting to meet a witch, vampire, or at least get haunted by a ghost. In between failed seances and many questionable outfit choices, she has developed a keen eye for the extra-ordinary.
A.N. spends her free time reading and binge-watching television shows in her pajamas. Currently, she resides in Toronto, Canada with her husband who is not a creature of the night and their daughter who just might be.
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