Karma’s Shift
Magical Midlife in Mystic Hollow
Lacey Carter Andersen Helen Scott L.A. Boruff
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Also by L.A. Boruff
About L.A. Boruff
Also By Lacey Carter Andersen
About Lacey Carter Andersen
Copyright 2021
Published by Lacey Carter Andersen, L.A. Boruff, and Helen Scott
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Dedication
To every woman who just wants a little
magic in her life.
1
Emma
The coffee shop in the little outdoor mall at the edge of Mystic Hollow had become one of my favorite places to people-watch. The baristas knew how to make a latte, light on the sugar, taste like heaven. And what was more, I had found it easy to tuck myself into a back corner in the shop and go between people watching and reading my latest spy novel.
At least, that’s what it looked like to other people. To humans. They had no idea I was secretly practicing my magic on some of the worst people in the town. Okay, maybe not the worst, but it did seem like this mall attracted an oddly large number of shoppers just looking to unleash their misery on the people around them. I’d never been happier that I no longer worked in customer service though, I can tell you that much.
So, what better place for Karma to have some fun?
And I did have some fun.
Like now, as I watched the scene in front of me unfold. Normally, I’d be getting myself worked up. Angry at the people who thought it was okay to treat employees like garbage. But knowing that the jerks of the world wouldn’t get away with it… I wasn’t getting angry anymore, I was getting excited.
“You gave me French Vanilla!” the twenty-something-year-old woman was yelling at the top of her lungs, her stilettos clicking angrily on the tile floor. “I asked for Mocha.” The horrible woman slammed the drink down on the counter so hard liquid, and even a piece of the ice, sloshed everywhere. “And you people want to make more per hour? What a freaking joke.”
I don’t know what was worse, the yelling, the mess, or the fact that I’d heard her specifically ask for French Vanilla. But it didn’t really matter, this lady was the worst. If I was to take a guess, based on her designer clothes, superior tone, and general attitude, I’d say she had never worked a day in her life.
The barista was staring at the woman with wide eyes, but after realizing the woman was waiting for her to speak, plastered on a strained smile and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll remake it.”
“No!” the customer yelled. “I want someone else to make it. You’ll probably spit in it.”
The poor barista looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I’d never spit in someone’s drink,” she said in a weak voice. “But I’ll get my manager.”
I narrowed my eyes and felt that prickling come over my skin, the one I knew meant my magic was working. Sometimes it felt pleasant, usually when I wanted to bring good karma to someone. Sometimes it felt uncomfortable, like when I was trying to punish someone. But when I was just letting the magic go, knowing that everyone near me would get exactly what they deserved, it felt like it did now. Like a prickling that was both soothing, too warm, and almost relaxing all at once. Kind of like sitting by a fire after being out in the cold.
“Hey.” A voice from behind the customer made the angry woman whirl around.
“What?” The angry woman asked, planting a hand on her hip, and turning up her nose at the teenage girl behind her.
“Drink this!” The teenager, who had watched the whole exchange, picked up the half-spilled iced coffee from the counter. Then, she leaned over and dumped the whole thing on the rude customer’s head.
Literally, the top of her head.
The woman screeched at the top of her lungs as the teen burst into laughter and ran away, dodging people on the sidewalk and disappearing toward the park trail that led all through town.
I hid a smile behind my hand, remembering one of the first times I used my powers to make a drink spill on a woman. But even though I was trying really hard to “act my age” and hide my amusement, the longer the rude customer stood in place, mouth hanging open, dripping with coffee, the harder I found it to hold back. After a minute, I was giggling so hard a snort actually exploded from my lips.
Oh, it was a good day for the universe.
“Still want my manager to make that drink?” The barista asked, looking shocked.
The woman unleashed a string of swear words, turned to leave, and slipped on the floor. The handful of people in the shop burst into laughter, and the woman crawled out onto the sidewalk. I knew I’d just witnessed karma in action, but I also knew it wasn’t done. These kinds of things had a way of sticking with people. So, I had a feeling it’d be a long time before that woman behaved like that again.
Leaning back in my chair, I sipped from my vanilla latte and looked out at the outdoor mall. On one side, people were walking along the sidewalk between shops. On the other, the woods that
