by Sam Cheever
Sticks and stones can break my bones, but wrinkles might actually kill me!
Just when I think I understand life, the Universe flings a magic booger at me.
For example, my favorite customer, Mrs. Foxladle, got into a simple disagreement with her book club friends over their obsession with youth and beauty. The next thing you know, they’re all dead.
Did Mrs. Foxladle kill them?
It certainly seems like a possibility. But I’m still holding on to the hope that I’m dealing with a rogue magical artifact in the hands of someone with diabolical intent.
Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to figure out what it is and who’s wielding it with deadly results.
I was counting on Detective Grym, a real rock of a guy, to help me find the culprits. But Grym’s lifespan just turned unpredictable. (You could say things are a bit rocky for him right now.) Which leaves solving the mystery up to me and my friends.
It’s just a really good thing I have a cat and a frog and… Yeah, about that… I’m really no closer to figuring out how to use them either.
Holy goblin phlegm!
This magic wrangling stuff is hard!
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