A witchy time travel tale that could only happen to me—and on Christmas Eve no less.
Hi, I’m Glinda Goodall. I know I’m a witch, but I never expected to have my powers turn against me and send me and Jaxson back fifty years to a snowy winter wonderland. Who knew the seventies were so archaic? No computers, no cell phones, and TVs with small screens that weighed as much as a battleship.
Okay, gas might have been $.36 a gallon, but that seemed to have been the only plus. Experiencing what it was like way back then was fun for about one day, but wouldn’t you know it, a guest is murdered in the old Victorian B&B where we are staying. Surprise!
Adding insult to injury, the only way we can return to sunny Witch’s Cove in the 21st century is to solve this murder case—or so says some psychic. I’ll be honest, at first it kind of sounded fun, until I wondered how could we do that with no modern conveniences and no gossip queens? Even worse, there was no email.
Please send all suggestions my way, though I have no idea if they will ever reach me. Oh, yeah. I’ll be the girl in the bell-bottom jeans that aren’t even pink. Such indignities.
