Wicked sorceress Cora must ruin someone's life before her eighteenth birthday or lose her magic forever, a task made tricky when she falls for her chosen victim.
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Cora Emerson is a magical misfortune who just can't get the hang of being a wicked...
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Cora had planned to absorb her restlessness with more sleep than necessary.
High blood pressure didn't run in her family, but her bouts of dizziness whenever she checked her phone had to be "the silent killer." It would be a twist ending if she died because of that pig-headed boy. Was it really so hard to say yes or no?
Her plans were cut short when Stella marched into her room on Saturday morning, whistling the world's most annoying tune. She wrenched the curtains open. An unbearable stream of light snapped Cora fully awake. She'd been doing a long lap across a massive cup of tepid melted chocolate. The soft, giant marshmallows beneath supported her clumsy swimming.
If Stella Emerson hated one thing, it was laziness. She expected the members of her family to be up at dawn like her. Saturday was a prime day for making Made with Magic products. The holidays were upon them, and their clients would want their skin's radiance to outshine Christmas in Oleander Garden. Cora groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. It wasn't yet noon, so she had no reason to get out of bed.
Her mother pulled the pillow away. "Up, up, up. I need you in the kitchen."
Cora pulled another pillow over her head. Once she'd asked why they couldn't use magic to make all their products, despite that bad brewing spell. Her mother had been so furious she'd shattered a glass mixing bowl. "Our clients expect the best," she'd said. "Every product must be made with care." With care implied not turning someone into a farm animal.
She pretended to sleep, but Stella wouldn't buy it. "Up, up, up," she said. "I want you up, dressed, and downstairs in ten minutes."
When her mother left, she tossed the pillow off her head. She got up, treaded across the room, yanked the curtains closed, and then slinked beneath the covers. Beau had been at the other end of the cup of chocolate. She'd almost reached him, to shake some sense into him.
"Cora!" Her mother yelled so loud the walls rumbled.
Her bed shook. "For the love of crows," she said, but she did get out of bed.
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By the time four o'clock rolled around, she'd been in the kitchen all day, mixing and pouring the Made with Magic concoctions into jars with pink tops. She hadn't told her family she might have a date with a boy and judging by the time she saw no point.
