Nora Grayson is a warlock and marital counselor to the supernatural. Her typical day runs the gamut between keeping vampires from lashing out at their elven husbands, to repairing her crumbling Victorian home. But when Constable Derrick King comes knocking at her door with a proposition Nora can’t refuse, she finds herself neck deep in politics as she tries to conduct pre-marital counseling for one of the most notorious werewolf clans in New England. Worse yet, someone has cursed her and she no longer has access to magic, leaving her vulnerable in the middle of a literal wolf pack. Nora must survive the week-long festivities, dodge warlock traffickers out for her blood, and uncover a murderer before she becomes the centerpiece at one bloody wedding banquet.

PINTEREST PAGE –– Where I’m putting all my visuals during this phase of the novel. These are just to help me visualize and describe while I work. More will be added as I go.


This novel is my project for July 2021 and as such, it will be continually updated starting July 1st. This is a “finish me” project, not a start from scratch project, so the following snippet isn’t considering cheating.


“So how can I help you, Derrick King?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and stared at his cup. “I need you to come with me for the week and act as my cousin’s counselor,” he said.

I choked on my coffee. “Excuse me?”

“My cousin Delilah is getting married next week but there are some concerns,” Derrick said. “As the token Constable of my family, they assumed I could get this done.”

Perplexed by the blasé attitude he was presenting, I set my cup on the table and stared at him. “I’m sorry, exactly what would I be doing?”

“Premarital counseling,” he said and took a swig of his drink.

“But premarital counseling is supposed to happen much sooner than this,” I said. “It isn’t something you rush through. I have to get to know the couple and they have to learn to trust me before we can make any real headway. There’s no circumstance where this actually works to their benefit, Mr. King.”

“Constable King,” he corrected.

I felt my face heat and straightened in the chair. “Constable King,” I said and glared at him. “I suggest you go to your cousin and strongly encourage her to postpone the wedding if she truly wishes counseling to work.”

Derrick turned his attention to the table of giggling girls. It was evident that Derrick was the subject of their conversation and I rolled my eyes, ready to be done with the entire affair. But if Derrick noticed the attention he was getting, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked tense.   

“I can offer you fifteen-thousand dollars, plus room, board, and food for the week,” he said.

I froze and gawked at him. And then I realized I was gawking and stammered the first question I could think of; “Who’s your cousin again?”

“Delilah Leslie,” he said and if I wasn’t mistaken, held his breath.

Which made sense because now I knew exactly who he was talking about. “Of the New York Leslie’s,” I said. My voice had gotten a little high, so I lowered it to a harsh whisper. “The most prominent lycanthrope family in all the Eastern Seaboard?”

Derrick kept his eyes on his cup and hissed what might have been a sigh, but I was still reeling so I couldn’t quite care. The Leslies owned a tower in New York City, as well as several acres up state, and had their fingers in so many different pies it was difficult to keep track. The steam engines peppering New England were run by the Leslie’s, whose engineers had come up with the improved design that provided power to thousands of people. The Leslies were the closest thing to royalty the lycanthropes had.