In addition to being available as an ebook, Pretty Witches All in a Row is now available in print through Amazon.com! As usual, here is another sample from the book between Detective Nick Gibson and his teenage daughter Veronica.

It was later than he would have liked when Nick pulled into the driveway of his home. The modest, three bedroom house was all ablaze with light, and he could hear the music all the way out in the car before he even opened the garage door. “Sounds like V’s home,” he murmured, leaving the car. The music swelled as he opened the door into the hallway, the music dark and throbbing.

Nick ventured deeper into the house, finding his teenaged daughter at the kitchen table, head bobbing to the music, bent over a textbook. How she could study with all that racket was beyond him, but he had to smile at the way her little spiky ponytails bounced, oblivious to his presence.

Not for the first time, he fretted over her appearance, thinking she looked more like a college co-ed than a high school girl in that get up. Her naturally wavy, medium brown hair was dyed a vibrant red color that didn’t occur in nature; straightened within an inch of its life so that the ends of her ponytails stuck out at odd angles making him think of a burst of fireworks. A black velvet choker wrapped around her pale throat, and her ears boasted three sets of piercings apiece. Nick flat out put his foot down on piercing any other part of her body until she was eighteen, and he had two years left to hope she grew out of that phase. As per usual, she wore a short skirt, not indecently so, but shorter than he would have liked on principle.

Her outfit du jour consisted of a black denim miniskirt, frayed at the bottom and no fewer than three visible shirts of varying lengths in shades of alternating black and red. Brown eyes that mirrored his own were heavily lined with dark gunk, and lips stained a vibrant shade of red. Veronica looked as if she was dressed to go to a club instead of sitting at home doing her homework. Though Nick had to consider; better to have her dressed for clubbing and home doing her homework than dressed like a librarian and out all hours of the night doing God knows what.

“Hi Daddy,” she called out without turning around.

Surprised, he set his briefcase down on the table opposite her. “I didn’t think you knew I was there,” he yelled over the music.

“Please, I could feel you standing there watching me.”

“What if it hadn’t been me? What if I was a robber or worse? Then it wouldn’t make much sense to leave me standing there with your back turned,” he taunted her, but in a way he was serious. A girl at home alone, he hoped he’d raised her to have a little more self preservation than that.

“Then turning around and freaking out wouldn’t have changed a whole lot by the time he’s right behind me, would it?” she pointed out, her head tilting to one side. “Besides, I saw your reflection in the window when you came in, I knew it was you the whole time.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“I didn’t want to miss out on lecture number twelve, it’s been overdue,” she grinned cheekily.

A shake of the head was given, but a smile was on Nick’s face as he shrugged out of his suit coat. The music seemed to swell even louder, drawing his attention to the lyrics that sang about dying, killing and stealing for you. “What is this?” His finger came up, pointing to the air around them.

“Garbage,” Veronica replied, head bobbing again.

“I know, but who sings it?”

A drawn out roll of the eyes was given, and she fixed him with the look before answering. “That’s the name of the group. Garbage.” She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. “You know, they did that theme song to the James Bond movie you liked?”

“Hey, who am I to argue,” he shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.

“Ha, ha.” Rising from the table, she brought her empty glass to the kitchen sink. “You missed dinner again.”

“I know, I’m sorry, sweetie. First day of the case, you know how it is. What did you make?”

“Coq au vin…” she replied with a flourish, opening the fridge. “Only the leftovers look more like ham sandwiches,” Veronica grinned, pulling a ready plate out and depositing it on the table before him.

“Ah, my little budding gourmet. This looks fantastic, thanks honey,” he smiled up at her.

“So, what kind of case is it this time? Jilted lover? Disgruntled business partner?” Veronica asked, setting down a tall glass of iced tea.

“Not really sure yet. The victim was stabbed and then the place was set on fire to try and mask the crime.”

“Wow,” her eyes widened. “That’s one you don’t hear every day.” Nick nodded, his mouth occupied with chewing. “So who would want to kill him? Or is it a her?”

“Her,” Nick clicked open the briefcase and drew out the smiling picture of Skye.

“Aw…” Veronica’s forehead creased sympathetically. “She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly.”

“And according to friends and family, everybody loved her.”

“Jealous boyfriend,” she stated with a definitive nod, setting the picture down.

“You think?”

“Sure, why not? I mean look at her, she had to have a boyfriend, and with that smile I’m thinking she got hit on a lot. Maybe the boyfriend couldn’t take it? You know, if I can’t have you, no one else will?” Her eyes lit up as she warmed to the theory.

“It sounds like you’ve got it all sewn up. I guess I can close up shop and forget the rest of the investigation,” he smirked, laughing when she gave him a playful punch to the shoulder.

“What’s your theory then?” she challenged.

“I’m not sure yet, but it turns out there was another fire a few weeks ago, another girl was killed.”

“Did they know each other?”

“Yep, part of the same coven.”

“Coven… as in vampires?” Her brown eyes widened to the size of saucers and he couldn’t resist laughing.

“No, but not too far off. Coven as in witches.”

“Get outta town, really? That’s it then, that’s the connection. Maybe we’ve got a witch hunter in town looking to save the world from the dark arts?”

“Or maybe they were killed as part of a dark, secret ritual,” Nick lowered his voice dramatically.

“Oh come on, Daddy, it’s not like it is on TV, it’s a religion for most modern witches, same as being Hindu or Buddhist.”

“What do you know about any of that?”

“Social studies.” She gave a careless shrug, sliding back into her chair again.

“They teach you about witches in school?”

“Sure, it’s a part of Americana; witches have been persecuted throughout time you know. Anytime a baby got sick or a guy got caught with his fly open, someone cried witch. We learned all about their persecution, back in the burning times.”

“Huh, yeah I suppose that is part of our history. I guess I should have come to you with all my questions, then I wouldn’t have had to go down to Argent Flame,” he chuckled.

“Oh, that shop down on Hawthorne?”

“You’ve been there?” His head came up in surprise, not quite sure how he felt about that.

“Yeah, lots of times… or actually, no… nope, never heard of it,” she amended after catching the look on his face. “What?”

“Why were you in a store that sells witch stuff?”

“Um… cause it’s awesome? They have cool jewelry and stuff, totally cheaper than you can find downtown. Besides, that’s not all they sell, they have interesting books there, and they never kick you out for just hanging out whether you buy something or not.”

“Oh.” That didn’t sound so bad. “So you’re not… planning on delving into the black arts anytime soon? Do I need to be checking your dresser drawers for bags of some other kind of little green herbs now?”

“Knock yourself out, like I’d really keep anything in my dresser drawers,” she snorted.

“Good thing I know all the places to look,” he winked at her and Veronica looked appalled.

“Do you really search my room?”

“Cop. It’s a habit,” he shrugged, finishing off the last of his sandwich.

“I don’t even want to get into how unethical that is…” she muttered disgustedly, turning her attention back to her book.