Gran used to say that a strong woman looks a challenge in the eye and gives it a wink. To be sure, flirting with challenges is a terrible idea. Ask me how I know.
All Bree really wants is to bury her head in the sand, somewhere in the south of France while a hot pool boy rubs lotion on her back.
Instead, Bree gets blackmailed by the Council of Savannah into a job she doesn’t want—though it does take her to France. They need her to bring a witch back to Savannah for a trial that Bree is sure is a load of hooey.
But not just any witch. The first one. The oldest one. The one who makes a t-rex look like he’s howling about a sore tooth. The one who makes the wicked witch of the west look like your sweet old nanny, the one who…well you get the picture.
Bree’s job? Find her. Befriend her. And convince her to come back to Savannah for safekeeping.
But someone else has gotten a head start, and their reasons for tracking down the miserable old witch are far worse than the council's reasons.
None other than a sexy, growly blacksmith with pretty eyes who makes Bree’s panties melt even though she knows he isn’t for her. And he is looking for the same miserable old lady.
Throw in a lovesick siren, and a slew of new problems, and you’ve got Bree’s next adventure busting at the seams. And no, it isn’t because her pants are too small.