Lunar Croakies: ENCHANTING INQUIRIES, #13

By Sam Cheever

Moon Madness has hit Croakies like an out-of-control freight train. As usual, I'm just not sure I'm up to the job of stopping it before it smashes everything into moon dust.

 

I'd heard the term "howl at the moon" before. Of course I had. But how was I supposed to know my little demon dog Vel would turn it into a compulsion?

Buckle up lunar lovers. This ride is about to get bumpy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Electric Prose Publications
• Release date: Mar 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781950331826

Sam Cheever

USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes mystery and suspense, creating stories that draw you in and keep you eagerly turning pages. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 100+ books. NEWSLETTER: Join Sam's Monthly newsletter and get a FREE book! You can also keep up with her appearances, enjoy monthly contests, and get previews of her upcoming work!  https://samcheever.com/newsletter/ ONLINE HOT SPOTS: To find out more about Sam and her work, please pay her a visit at any one of the following online hot spots: Her blog: http://www.samcheever.com/blog; and Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamCheeverAuthor. She looks forward to chatting with you! She has a technique for scooping poop that she knows you’re just DYING to learn about.

Book preview

Lunar Croakies

Sam Cheever

Electric Prose Publications

Copyright © 2021 by Sandy Decker

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Stay in Touch

1. It’s the End of the World as We Know It

2. That Can’t Be Good

3. She’s Intoxicated by the Moon?

4. Holy Roasted Raven on a Spit!

5. Unbunch Your Knickers, Cop

6. We’ve Got Him!

7. So Mote It Be

8. Gimme!

9. But This is Ice Cream…

Don’t Miss Out

Read More Enchanting Inquiries

Unbaked Croakies

About the Author

Also by Sam Cheever

Praise for Sam Cheever

You have that essential Je ne sais quoi that it takes to tell a story so mesmerizing you cannot stop reading once started. You are not telling stories to your readers…you are taking them with you on your adventures so that the experience can be shared by all as it happens and not simply replayed like a memory on the page of a diary! You are indeed gifted and it is my pleasure to read your books!

Valerie Irwin

I’d heard the term howl at the moon before. But how was I supposed to know my little demon dog, Vel, would turn it into a compulsion?

Moon Madness has hit Croakies like an out-of-control freight train. My demon dog is howling at the moon. Somebody ate one of my neighbors. And things are falling apart in the city of Enchanted. Buckle up lunar lovers. This ride is about to get bumpy.

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1

It’s the End of the World as We Know It

H ave you seen Vel? I asked my assistant as she buzzed past, wings whirring softly in the quiet space.

No. Sebille stopped in front of me and popped into full size, her expression perplexed. I was just looking for Baca. One of the ceiling tiles is loose in the bookstore. I was going to have her fix it.

I frowned, looking around the enormous, warehouse-like space of the artifact library. I just realized I haven’t seen Mr. Wicked or Hobs either since dinner.

Our gazes met and locked, alarm widening her iridescent green eyes and my blue ones in matching indications of concern. What are they up to? I asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question since nobody but the aforementioned little monsters knew the answer.

If my cat, Mr. Wicked, was missing, along with the brownie, Baca, and her constant companion, Hobs, that was concerning enough. If the newest member of our strange gang was missing too, things were almost guaranteed to get squiggy. Vel, our little demon dog, was a sweet but undisciplined disaster waiting to happen. We’d gotten her from the demonic plane, and I suspected she was just a puppy with massive powers she seemed to have little control over.

The front bell rang and a clear, worried voice called out. Naida? Sebille? I need to talk to you.

I looked at Sebille and she rolled her eyes. What does she want now?

Sebille didn’t usually react that way to our friend Lea, the earth witch who lived above the magical herbs shop next door. The sprite generally saved that level of derision for me. But Lea had been in something of a dither for the last couple of weeks. She’d read some signs in tea leaves or something. We assumed she was reading them wrong. But she was sure of her results. And they were bad. Really bad. Basically, she was predicting the end of the world.

Two brisk knocks on the dividing door between the store and the artifact library had me sighing. As much as I loved my friend, like Sebille, I was getting just a wee bit tired of the drama about the full moon. I mean, we had a full moon a dozen times a year, right? What made the current full moon so different?

I threw a wisp of my Keeper magic toward the door and it opened, revealing a harried, wild-eyed earth witch wearing pink and lace footie pajamas.

Ah! Sebille said, holding up her arms as if to ward off a boogie. What are you wearing?

Looking perplexed, Lea glanced down at her curvy form. My PJs. Why? What’s wrong with them?

Other than the obvious? Sebille asked.

Says the woman who wears red and white striped footie PJs to bed all the time? I said, in Lea’s defense. Not to mention the green and purple polka dot dress Sebille was currently wearing with black and red striped stockings and fire-engine-red shoes that matched her long, red hair. My assistant was the last person who should be picking on somebody else’s clothing choices.

I wear them in the winter, Sebille responded. It’s only October. Way too early for the Full Monty, pajama-wise.

Lea hurried over, the plastic bottoms of her footie feet scraping softly on the concrete. My heat’s broken, and the shop is freezing. She fluttered her hands