Midlife Menace

A pinch of desperation. A tablespoon of desire. A cup of madness. A recipe for disaster. Mm. Do you smell that? It's the warm, gooey cinnamon from my oven-hot rolls. I make the best baked goods in all of New Mexico, perhaps the whole world, in my so-very-humble opinion, using a secret family recipe, and a little forbidden magic. My bakery has been booming ever since I got rid of that big bag of moldy beans, aka the world's most grotesque farting and armpit-sniffing ex-husband. My life is finally on track. My autistic preteen son is thriving despite his unpredictable magic. My bumbling apprentice and her disappearing pygmy dragon only manage to set the place on fire a few times a month. And then he walks into my life. A tall, tanned, virile shifter, who, after one steamy night, makes me believe in a whole new kind of magic. There's just one problem-he's an outlaw, accused of a crime he says he didn't commit. Am I stupid enough to believe him? Possibly. Am I reckless enough to follow him to the ends of the earth to prove his innocence? Definitely. Especially when the succubus he claims framed him might be the same demon who killed my parents. Contains mature themes.

A pinch of desire. A tablespoon of seduction. A heaping cup of frustration. A recipe for damnation. Romantic, moonlit walks on the beach have a different kind of vibe when we're surrounded by sirens who want to eat us, and not in a good way. My world has been completely turned on its head. I've been hiding from demons and corrupt witches with my retro fairy godfather, my bumbling apprentice, her floppy-horned lover, a mischievous, disappearing pygmy dragon, my gifted, autistic preteen son, and one hex of a sexy sphinx shifter. The Department of Unapproved Magic shut down my bakery, possibly for good. My annoying ex-husband won't stop harassing us. Most of the magical world, including my aunt, are hunting us. Desperate to clear our names, we're forced to befriend a beautiful WitchTok influencer who wants to kill us, control us, or both. Good thing my boyfriend can lick his eyebrows. Otherwise, I'd have gone certifiably crazy. Now, if we could root out the demons before they find us, we might have a shot at escaping our so-called paradise alive. Contains mature themes.