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Star of the Party: Night Shift Witch, #2
Star of the Party: Night Shift Witch, #2
Star of the Party: Night Shift Witch, #2
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Star of the Party: Night Shift Witch, #2

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Nothing spoils a date quite like murder.

All Star wanted was a little Halloween fun with her hunky boss, not a murder mystery filled with witches, ghosts, and too many suspects. But she can hardly cuddle with her cute date when there's a body in the bathroom.

Will Star find the culprit and get back to the unfinished business or her bewitching boss?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherCate Lawley
Release dateDec 4, 2017
ISBN9798201218102
Star of the Party: Night Shift Witch, #2

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    Book preview

    Star of the Party - Cate Lawley

    1

    Naughty Nun, Femme Fatale, Wicked Kitty, or…Sexy Witch?

    Austin, Texas 1999


    What did a modern woman wear to a Halloween party when she wanted to look sexy but also like she wasn’t trying too hard?

    I was overthinking this.

    It was just a date.

    A second date. With my boss. Who I really liked.

    Right, I was not overthinking. My costume would send a message, whether Ben would consciously notice or not. Also, I wanted to look nice for my date. It would give me confidence.

    The naughty nun costume my mentor, Camille, had lent me was too obvious. I didn’t need that kind of confidence, the overblown, outrageous kind. Nuns weren’t inherently sexy, so I couldn’t really be casually glamorous and subtly hot in a slinky nun’s outfit.

    So, not a nun. I set that costume to the side.

    The femme fatale look wasn’t any better. The whole point of the costume was to be dangerous and sexy. Nothing understated about that. That costume went into the no pile.

    Wicked kitty… That was a possibility. Then again, cats and I weren’t especially fond of one another. One fluffy gray cat in particular came to mind. Twinkles and I barely coexisted. We certainly weren’t friendly.

    And now that I was thinking of Twinkles, there was no way that I could possibly wear the wicked kitty costume.

    I opened the last garment bag. This contribution was from my mom’s closet, so I wasn’t holding out much hope.

    But as soon as I slid the zipper down and saw the silver and black beads and then the spangles at the hemline, I knew this was the winner.

    My mother was one of those women who’d managed to pop out a kid and then return to her pre-baby weight and then kept it off for basically ever. I could only hope I got those genes and not my dad’s side of the family. They all seemed to have slid into middle age in the normal way, slowly gaining weight with each passing decade.

    Long story short, my mom and I were the same dress size. Not a fact I’d ever thought would come in handy, since she tended to favor beige khakis, appliqued shirts, and Keds.

    I slipped the dress on, mostly because I figured there was a catch. Sometimes a plain dress on the rack became slinky and sexy when worn, so the opposite might also be true. Probably was true. My mother wasn’t exactly the sexy siren type.

    But no. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

    The dress’s hem ended midthigh, though the spangles hanging down from the hem gave the illusion of covering more leg. The neckline wasn’t particularly daring, but it didn’t need to be because the dress hugged my curves, and the beading shouted, Check out my assets.

    Yeah, my mom and I were having a chat about where the heck she’d worn this costume.

    Only after I’d taken it off did I find the price tag.

    Good news for me, because if I was getting lucky in this dress, I really didn’t want to consider the possibility that my mother had used it for the same purpose. Ick.

    Decision made, I turned my attention to accessories.

    And also to the wisdom of inviting my boss, who happened to be fully human without an ounce of magic, to a Halloween party thrown by a bunch of witches.

    Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea for a second date.

    But I’d already RSVP’d for two and told Camille that I was planning to bring Ben.

    Camille adored Ben, so she’d never let me hear the end of it if I chickened out at the last minute.

    That problem solved—or put on hold—I moved on to the weighty matter of shoes.

    What sort of shoes did a girl wear with a flapper dress?

    2

    Daring Second Dates

    Ben picked me up right on time.

    Of course he did. Ben was like that. He was reliable, considerate, and generally a stand-up guy. Being consistently punctual was his way of telling me he respected my time, and I adored that about him.

    Ben couldn’t be more different from the men I’d dated before. First, he was a man.

    My dating history was peppered with bad boys. The kind who were exciting and fun…

    Until they stuck you with the check, even though they knew you had no cash.

    Until they showed up late, even though you were relying on them for a ride and had to wait in what wasn’t the safest part of town.

    Until they slept with your neighbor, because: What? You thought we were exclusive? Come on, babe. I never said that.

    My bad boys had suffered from a complete absence of goals, a tendency to mooch, unpredictable moods, and a lack of fidelity.

    Until Alex, my last boyfriend.

    Maybe Alex had been my transition guy. The one I’d actually loved, but who hadn’t been right for me, because… So many reasons. I loved him like a dear friend, but I wasn’t in love with him. Thank goodness. Ben deserved more than rebound status.

    Alex was the first man I’d dated who respected me, pushed me to do more, challenged me to be better.

    He was just as moody as the rest of

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