A Spirited Blend

Book 3: Crystals & CuriosiTEAS Mystery

by Lauren Elliott

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Culinary Cozy Mysteries; Supernatural suspense

Synopsis

For charmed tea shop owner Shay Myers, getting steeped in Bray Harbor, California’s October festivities is spookier than she ever could have bargained for—especially when a bone-chilling murder mystery spells grave danger . . .

With Halloween around the corner, Shay Myers is brewing witchy seasonal sips at Crystals and CuriosiTEAS—while simultaneously steaming over pub owner Liam Madigan’s decision to take anybody but her to the town’s Monster Mash dance. Her romantic premonitions have missed the mark since she settled into coastal Bray Harbor, opening the door to questions about whether she’s really the gifted seer her late mother imagined. It’s why she second guesses the dark vision in her tea leaves about a local citizen and their obsession with genealogy, Irish folklore, and magic . . .

But when bad omens come true, Shay doesn’t have time for self-doubt. A woman’s body has been discovered, frozen in a strange pose with an eerie black butterfly on her forehead, leading to suspicions that the victim took a conjuring ritual too far due to limited experience—or was murdered by someone with too much. As an investigation stirs up a sinister connection to a boardwalk mystic shop, Shay, guided by her knowing dog, Spirit, finds herself tracking down a shady figure from her past, navigating the sudden reappearance of her ex-husband, and chasing down a wickedly perceptive criminal who might finally be her match!

Release date: March 25, 2025

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

If the day had been a routine workday, like all the preceding ones that Shayleigh Myers had enjoyed over the past two years, then this morning Shay would have climbed the spiral wrought-iron staircase to the second floor of her teahouse, Crystals & CuriosiTEAS. She would have paused at the top and closed her eyes as she passed her small alcove office to shut out the stacks of paperwork demanding her attention. If her universe hadn’t felt lopsided, she would have stepped into her greenhouse and inhaled the heady, earthy scents of recently watered soil and the fragrances of blooming flowers and herbs growing in the raised planter boxes that filled her second-floor conservatory.

If things were normal, she would have sat on the bench beside the potting table, where for precisely thirty minutes, she would reflect on and give thanks for all in her life that had brought her to this moment in time. She would have her daily chat with the spirit of Bridget Early, her birth mother and the woman who, by her bequeathment, had led Shayleigh to this time and place. She was also the woman who had given Shayleigh the gift of second sight. Sadly, though—her heart ached with the reality of the situation—Bridget was the mother she would only ever come to know by trying to absorb everything she could about this incredible woman through the journals and letters Shay had unearthed while living in Bridget’s cottage and running her tea shop.

However, the day was not normal, and the status quo of two years had left Shay feeling off-kilter. Her tranquility was threatened. Currently, she was huffing and puffing after ascending the spiral staircase, and her mind, much like the stairs she’d climbed, spiraled with whirling thoughts, and Shay was unable to settle comfortably into her usual routine. She exhaled and drew in a slow, deep breath in hopes that when she cleared her lungs, she would also expel the coiling, twisting energy eclipsing her morning meditation—but it was no use. The snaking energy had nestled into the base of her skull and curled in nicely, it seemed.

It wasn’t a world-shaking energy, and she hadn’t detected even a wobble in her universe. But if it was linked to what she suspected it was, it still held a great consequence, especially if she couldn’t find the solution.

She glanced down at Spirit, her pure white German shepherd companion, who had followed her upstairs. “You’ve witnessed all my failures this week. What do you think the problem is?”

He let out a singsong groan and laid his large head on his front paws.

“I know. I’m just as stumped.” Shay scanned the greenhouse and studied the various raised planters.

One planter housed common cooking herbs: thyme, rosemary, sage, oregano, basil, parsley, chives, dill, and fennel. Other planters blossomed with herbs she regularly used in tea blends, like mint, lemon balm, chamomile, lemon verbena, rosehip, and lavender. The remaining tables of exotic plants were beautiful to look at, but useless until she could learn all the benefits and the uses their blends could bring to her customers.

The amulet nestled in a leather pouch she’d inherited from her mother, Bridget, warmed against her chest. She jumped to her feet and headed to one of the tables bursting with exotic plants. “That’s where the answer is! Thank you, Bridget.” She clasped her hand over the pouch. “I should have known you’d point me in the right direction sooner or later.”

“Shay? Who are you talking to up here?” Her sister, Jen, called from the top of the staircase.

“Um . . . just Spirit?”

“Oh, I didn’t see him. Hi, boy. I got our coffee. Do you want it now, or should I put it on the potting table?”

Shay’s shoulders slumped. Another tradition she wanted to enjoy that her chaotic thoughts wanted to destroy. For the past two years, Jen had brought coffee from Cuppa-Jo, the coffee shop across the street, and they would sit and talk, enjoying the naughtiness of their ground coffee bean indulgence before they began a day of tea service. Since inheriting the tea shop, Shay had always felt like an imposter because, up until having to promote tea drinking, she had been a die-hard coffee drinker. Truth be known, the only tea she had ever indulged in was a common brand from her grocery store when she had a cold.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she gazed at the plants before her. The old Shay didn’t exist anymore—well, that was, until after her daily morning ritual was completed.

Change can be difficult and painful. Ask the caterpillar, and then ask her again if it was worth it when she becomes a butterfly.

Shay closed her eyes and sighed as the words of Liam Madigan, her neighbor and the owner of Madigan’s Pub, next door to the tea shop, floated through her mind. If she’d learned nothing over the past two years, she’d at least learned that. The difficulties, the pain, the changes, and the current doubts coiling at the base of her skull were a testament that she hadn’t reached butterfly status and still had much to learn.

“You didn’t answer, so here.” Jen handed Shay a take-out cup of coffee.

Shay blinked at her sister and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m struggling with something this morning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I’m at a loss about what to do with the tea we planned to serve at the Halloween carnival.”

“That’s it?” Jen eyed her uncertainly. “I thought we’d settled that weeks ago when we decided to put food-grade dry ice in that huge cauldron you found. Have you changed your mind about doing that?” Jen’s pale blue eyes glimmered with concern, and she swept a lock of her golden-blond hair off her face and tucked it under the top of her single long braid.

“No, creating the steam effect isn’t the problem. It’s coming up with a tea recipe that will continue to bubble after it’s poured into glasses. We don’t want to put dry ice into the cups because if anyone inadvertently touched their mouth to it or swallowed the chip of dried ice, that would be disastrous. Besides the Health Department would never approve that.”

“Can you blame them?”

“No, I can’t, but in all my research, I haven’t been able to find anything nontoxic that will sustain the bubbling affect.”

“You’re overthinking it.” Jen sipped her coffee. “Remember, it’s a family-fun weekend, with lots of kids and prizes and games. No one is going to critique us on whether our witch’s cauldron brew actually bubbles in the glass.”

Shay could almost feel her sister’s eye roll, and she looked at the plant table again with an even more resolved eye. “I know, but this needs to be realistic. You know as well as I do that Madam Malvina is going to have a display for her tea shop that will knock the socks off everyone in town. She’s still the shiny, bright new toy in Bray Harbor and has already managed to steal away a lot of our business as it is.” Shay studied the table intently and shook her head. “No, this year our display has to be like something off a movie set.”

“The cookies Tassi and I have been baking will help with that. She found some great decorating tips with gelatin eyeballs and gummy worms—”

“I know, and they look fantastic. It’s just that I know Madam Malvina will use this community event as another opportunity to one-up us. She already stole the Little White Glove Society ladies away with her offer of one free pot of tea per table for a year, and that’s really hurt our bottom line.”

“Maybe we finally need to start doing our own baking,” said Jen. “Tassi’s really got a hidden talent there. That way, we will be serving something different than Madam Melvina, and it might draw the ladies back because, as it is, we’re both getting all our goodie orders from the Muffin Top Bakery, and it doesn’t make us stand out from her shop.”

“I know, and when we first started the teahouse, that’s what I planned to do, but the cost of refitting the kitchen so we can bake in it is way beyond our reach now, especially since we’ve been losing customers to her.” Shay sipped her now lukewarm coffee, crinkled her nose, and set the cup o the table. “As it stands now, some weeks I can barely make payroll, let alone keep the lights on.”

She looked past the table of exotic plants and focused on one particular table in the corner. “No, this must be the best display we’ve ever had. We have to show the people of Bray Harbor that Crystals & CuriosiTEAS isn’t going out of business yet.”

“What’s that old saying you like?”

“When things fall apart, better things fall into place.”

“Yes, that one.” Jen gave Shay’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I don’t see how that applies to our current situation.”

“You’re thinking Madam Malvina is going to put us out of business, but what if something else is meant to happen? Come on, you’re the one who gets those inky feelings. They must be telling you that everything we’ve done here, all the work we’ve put in, and everything you’ve learned from Bridget’s journals and from Gran Madigan can’t have been for nothing.”

“You’re right. I’m not going to roll over and play dead. Madam Malvina took advantage of our relationship.”

“She did. She kept tabs on you to see how far you were coming along, and when you got to the point of equaling her knowledge, she moved in and declared war.”

“She did, didn’t she?”

“She sure did. So what are we going to do about it?”

“Beat her at her own game. She doesn’t have any staff other than her son, Orion, and he’s only part-time now because of college. Plus, she told me she can’t cook or bake for the life of her, and you and Tassi are my secret weapon, so . . .” Armed with a renewed sense of hope, Shay felt the heaviness that had descended over her begin to lift. “We are going to have the best display at the carnival, and we are going to win first place. Madam Melvina’s going down!”

“Darn right she is. One bubbling cauldron at a time.” Jen applauded. “Remember that, and stop overthinking the whole carnival and try to have some fun with it. Speaking of fun . . .” She pulled her cell phone out of her apron pocket and checked the time. “I’d better get down there and open the doors.”

“Not much urgency there. Since the summer tourist season ended, I think we’ve averaged four customers a day before noon.”

“I know, but with this new attitude, things are bound to pick up. After all, it’s you who is always telling me we manifest our futures.” Jen gave a cocky grin and headed down the stairs.

Shay retrieved the harvesting basket tray and clippers from the potting table and walked to the planter that had caused her amulet to warm earlier. Her skin tingled as she approached the exotic plant with bright yellow flowers and needle-like leaves that resembled small brooms.

“That’s it, rooibos!” She shook her head at her own forgetfulness, but it was easy to overlook these plants and this particular plant table, as it was far removed from any of the overhead sprinklers because the plants needed dry soil to thrive. “The rooibos will be perfect, with its seasonal reddish color when it’s brewed. I can just add sparkling water and Jell-O powder to create the effect I’m looking for.”

“Shay? Are ye up here?”

Normally, the singsong lilt of Liam Madigan’s Irish brogue was all it took to make her pulse race, but not today. She knew exactly why he was here, and she was in no mood to give him his monthly pep talk. She had a battle to plan and a war to win.

Shay sat silently on the bench by the potting table, her fingers instinctively stroking the fine hairs behind Spirit’s ears. Her head unconsciously bobbed from side to side as Liam’s lilting voice cast its enchanting spell over her. However, if he were to give her a test and ask her to recite back to him everything he’d been saying, she knew she’d fail miserably. The thing was, she didn’t care what the words were that tumbled out of his mouth. She’d heard the same old who-should-I-date-now question over and over for the past year, and the conversation was getting really old. Nope, she wasn’t in the mood.

She defiantly met his expectant gaze and realized he was waiting for an answer to something.

“Well, what do ye think?” He held his hands out, palms up, as if expecting her to plop an answer into his awaiting grasp.

“About . . . ?”

“About me asking Maggie Somers to the Monster Mash dance on Sunday night?”

“Maggie Somers to the Halloween dance?”

“Yeah, ye know, the lass from the bookshop up on Fifth Avenue.”

“I know where it is, and I know Maggie quite well.”

“Good, then ye know if we’d be a good match, right?” His electric-blue eyes lit up with flickers of hope.

“I think . . .”

He leaned closer and steadied his expectant gaze on hers.

“I think she’s as good a match as Lillie Andrews, Adeline Price, Gwen Helton, and Beverly Lewis were. Oh”—she snapped her fingers—“and let’s not forget Teresa Boyer from Teresa’s Treasures or our dear sweet friend, Zoey Laine, Spirit’s veterinarian, who shockingly did manage to last longer than a month or two.”

“It wasn’t my fault Zoey ended it. It was the situation of her and Gran living under the same roof.” He shrugged. “As for the others, I may have had a hand in it not working out, which is why I’m asking ye what do ye think about Maggie and me? Do ye think I should ask her? Is it worth a shot? Do ye think she’d be interested?”

Shay narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you just hear what I said?”

“Aye, I’m not daft, ye know.”

“Then I want you to really think about what I said.”

“I have, and all the women you mentioned have something in common, right?”

“Yes . . . and?”

“They own their shops.” He impishly grinned at her. “I can’t help it if I’m attracted to successful businesswomen.”

“And you didn’t see any other pattern in that long list?”

“Aye,” he nodded slowly, and his eyes lit up. “I see what yer saying. I suppose I could start looking at some of the workers downtown, not just shop owners. There’s even a couple of nurses and a new doctor at the hospital that have caught me eye. Yer right. I should be expanding my dating pool.”

“That’s what you’ve taken away from what I said?”

He sat back on the bench and studied her while he stroked his chin. “Aye, but now that I think about it, maybe ye aren’t very good after all about giving me advice in the affairs of the heart since none of those women turned out to be the right one.”

“Sooo,” she said, coaxing him on, “what does that mean?”

“It means I should be talking to someone else who’s a more experienced seer than you are.” He snapped his fingers. “Madam Malvina. She’s the ticket.”

Shay shot to her feet. Her body shook as she glared down at him, and she clenched her fists at her sides to keep from slapping him.

“Aye, and here’s me thinking ye, being a seer and all. Ye could steer me in the right direction, but so far, all ye’ve done is make a complete mess out of me personal life, and my reputation in town is suffering for it.”

“Me? Your life? Why, you shallow . . . toad! I . . . I can’t even . . . Get out of here and don’t come back. Do you hear me? Out!” She pointed to the staircase. “Now!”

“Ye want me to leave?”

“Yes, and I want you to take your own advice and go ask someone else, someone who cares. Because, Liam, I don’t care who you date or do anything else with. Not then, not now, not ever, not anymore. Do you hear me?”

“Aye.” He rose to his full six-foot-three-inch height and looked down at her. “I think ye must be having a bad day, so I’ll come back later.”

“No, don’t bother ever coming back here again!” she said, her body vibrating with fury.

“Certainly, ye don’t mean that?” His eyes narrowed, and concern flickered within their electric-blue depths. “Ye’re me best mate. Ye always know just what to say when things in my love life don’t turn out. Move on, you say, and I think ye did after yer ex, so I can too.” His hand lay gently on her arm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you in me life.”

“And there lies the problem,” she whispered and pulled away from him as though his touch had burned her.

“Say what?”

“Nothing.” She rubbed her arm. “Just go, please.”

He nodded his head slowly and eyed her skeptically, his questioning gaze not wavering until he’d descended past the top of the stairwell.

“Madam Malvina!” she hissed through a jaw locked by the rage coursing through her. She gasped in a series of breaths, trying to release her pent-up anger, and reminded herself she had done the right thing, that sometimes when things fall apart, better things fall into place.

It was time she refocused her energy on someone other than Liam Madigan. The hoped-for romantic evolution of their relationship clearly wasn’t ever going to happen. It was time to face the truth. He didn’t fancy her in a romantic way, and it was time she accepted that fact. The past year’s door of revolving women proved it.

She took another deep breath. It was time to stop believing the energy between her and Liam was anything other than a close bond of friendship. A sharp pain twinged her heart, and she rubbed her fingers over the spot. If the universe didn’t want them together, then . . . Shay’s shoulders slumped. Could this really be what the universe planned for them? Some seer she turned out to be. How could she have been so wrong about them? And Gran? She kept encouraging Shay, telling her their lifelong bonding was fa-teed because Liam and she were both royalty of the fairy’s High Seelie Court.

After discovering she was even a tad bit attracted to Liam two years ago when she arrived back in Bray Harbor, she had hoped that she could actually move on from her cheating, thieving ex-husband, Brad, who had who ruined her career and her reputation back in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Her attraction to Liam then signaled that the heart she thought broken beyond repair from Brad’s betrayal was indeed not destroyed and could, and wanted to, love again.

The problem was she wasn’t sure she could move on easily from a man who she once thought too perfect. Even though Liam’s electric-blue eyes, framed by raven-black hair, and his muscular build stirred her to her very core, Liam Madigan wasn’t the perfect man she’d thought—or hoped. The past two years had proved he wasn’t for her. Obviously, she wasn’t that shallow, and it wasn’t just his good looks that called to her. There was something intrinsic about him that pulled her to him. If only she could . . . she shook herself from her fantasy. No, he wasn’t even close to perfect, but in her time of crisis last year, he had proven to be a loyal friend of substance.

Clearly, he wasn’t the man she thought him to be. She had to get him out of her head and her foolish heart, and take it as a lesson learned. Fables and myths belonged in storybooks. They made for great reading, but not so much in real life. It was time to put the dream of her and Liam to rest. If she could survive leaving Brad, she could survive the loss of Liam. Forcing herself to believe the lie that she didn’t need Liam Madigan, no matter how much he said he needed her, she finished harvesting the parts of the rooibos.

“Gran!” Her chest tightened as she set her basket on the potting table. Her decision today to move on now meant Shay had the monumental task of breaking the news to her that they both needed to move on from Gran’s foreseen romantic future for Shay and Liam. How could Shay explain to someone like Gran that her usually unfailing second sight was faulty when it came to matters of the heart? Maybe she and Gran had missed the chapter in the seers’ handbook that says, “You can see for others, but never yourself or never for matters of the heart when family are involved.”

“Shay, can you come downstairs? There’s someone here who wants to see you.” Jen called up the staircase.

Spirit cocked his head, and his tail thumped against the brick floor.

“Two to one that’s you-know-who.”

Spirit let out a high-pitched yip that sounded uncannily like Gran.

“I know. It’s scary how she does that, isn’t it? Let’s go see if we’re right.” Shay trotted down the stairs and into the tea shop’s back room and nodded her gratitude at Jen. “Gran, what a surprise.” She winked at Spirit, who ignored her and trotted over to Gran. “Is everything okay?” she asked, straining to keep her tone innocent.

“Trust what ye feel, not what ye hear, lass. There, I’ve said me piece, and I’ll be off now.” Gran walked toward the door.

“No!”

Gran halted, her hand on the doorknob.

“It’s just not what I’ve heard, Gran. It’s what I have had a ringside seat to for the past two years.”

Jen looked blankly from Shay to Gran and then back at Shay. “Is this some kind of secret code you guys are speaking in?”

Shay knew exactly what Jen meant. Sometimes Shay and Gran were so connected that Shay herself often wondered if she and Gran could read each other’s minds. “Not a secret code. I just happen to know what she’s talking about, because the timing of Liam leaving and her arriving isn’t a coincidence.”

Shay crossed her arms over her chest and thrust out one hip, feigning nonchalance. “So, what did he tell you when he went back to the pub? No, don’t tell me. Let’s see if I can guess.” Despite Gran’s faded blue eyes gazing intently at her, Shay forced a detached tone to her next words. “He told you I was having a bad day and told him to leave and never come back. He plans on waiting a few hours until I settle down, and he’ll come back and ask me again if he should take Maggie Somers to the dance Halloween night, right?”

“Would ye like a nice cuppa tea?” Gran’s white hair, pulled high on her head like a dollop of whipped cream, jiggled as she marched over to the sink. She plonked the teapot on the counter and tossed in two spoonsful of dried chamomile leaves from a tin on the counter. Shay watched her in silence, knowing what Gran had planned and trying to think of a way out of a tea-leaf session.

Before Shay could think of a reasonable excuse, Gran ges. . .