I knew the day wasn't going well when the ferret started to talk. Dad insists that I'm a witch, but I have no idea how to make a cauldron boil, much less get an eye from a newt. And apparently this potion we have to make for the Supreme Bad Dude is the one that exploded and killed my mother a year ago. To top it off, the other witches say I'm a Nix, and talking to Nixes is forbidden. Upshot: I'm on my own. But there is this one enchanter boy. Tall, handsome, serious. He says I'm his match, and I think that means he's willing to break a few rules. That's my kind of guy. So if the man who killed my mom wants me to do a spell for him, sure, I'll give it a go. And maybe I'll throw in something with a little kick on the side. NEW ADULT PARANORMAL ROMANTIC COMEDY (no cliffhanger!) Some mature content for 17+ _______________Excerpt from Passion Potion I touched the silver circlet buried in my hair. "Headband, come on. I've endured your crappy hair styles for three days. Throw me a bone here. Lead me toward the psychedelic 'shroom." Nothing. I needed an interpreter for it, a narrator who would say, "And the headband, knowing that use of magic would alert the evil overlord to her whereabouts, declined to help the fair maiden." Maiden. Ha. I was as soiled as the black earth at my feet. Someone should have told me to save myself for my enchanter match. I stopped. Something glowed up ahead. I ducked behind a tree, trying to make it out. Another doppelgänger? An evil fairy spy? Instead of gold, this one emitted multi-colored light. A rainbow. I didn't need to know the shape to realize it was what I was looking for. The prismatic mushroom. I ran for it, and just like I'd asked, came a sign. On the uppermost curve of the mushroom cap, clear as a marquee, were the words, "Eat me." Oh man. I'd never been a big fan of eating fungi. Picked it right off pizza. Pasta dishes always got left with little hat-shaped leftovers. And, of course, the whole thing could be a trick. One bite and I'd be Sleeping Beauty. Or was it Snow White? Whatever, another dame on her back, waiting for some bloke to slip her a little tongue. Maybe THAT'S where enchanter babies come from.