Always a Bridesmaid: A Bite-Sized Urban Fantasy Tale
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About this ebook
Meet a witch with a secret, a man running from his future, and the demon that might just bring them together.
Tiffany Chiffon, proprietress of bachelorette party venue Bride's Best Friend has a reputation to preserve - "Happy brides go to the Bride's Best Friend." However, when a cursed bride who's being stalked by a demon shows up in her shop, Tiffany quickly ends up over her head, and rose quartz and delicious baked goods may not be enough to help her. Oh, and there's a handsome stranger who knows too much about her past and a snarky catfish, too.
Like a cupcake, this novelette (long short story) is the perfect treat to brighten your day. Go ahead and grab your copy now. Catfish not included.
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Always a Bridesmaid - Cecilia Dominic
Always a Bridesmaid
Cecilia Dominic
Always a Bridesmaid by Cecilia Dominic
Published by AIBHS
www.ceciliadominic.com
© 2019 Cecilia Dominic
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover by Cecilia Dominic
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-945074-01-1
CHAPTER ONE
Demon in the Kitchen
Who wants man-cakes?
Tiffany brought out the plate of penis-shaped pancakes.
Strawberry, huh?
the bride Lydia asked as she speared one right through the testicles with the serving fork. This should help to banish the ghosts of any boyfriends past.
The hairs on the back of Tiffany’s neck stood up, but she smiled and continued serving the bachelorette breakfast guests. Each girl took a pancake with the fork, grinning a little, likely imagining spearing an ex or someone who had failed to notice her, cherish her, be there for her, or any of the other multitude of sins that men routinely committed against women.
Yep, hit ‘em where it hurts, ladies,
Tiffany encouraged. I’ll be right back with some bacon.
Bacon!
came the chorus.
Bring on the meat.
Lydia cut off the tapered tip of her pancake.
Tiffany smiled at the bride’s feistiness. She liked that. It was easier for her to work her magic for a woman she felt deserved it, although she got paid well for all of her parties.
Be right back,
she promised. She ducked through the bead curtain that separated the front of her shop from the kitchen, workroom, and storage area. Besides the usual penis- and man-shaped baking molds, it held other interesting objects such as rose quartz crystals that Tiffany gifted each bride, dried herbs for smudging
the store clean after each party, and books that went well beyond the typical wedding party planning guides. She didn’t know what Miss Manners would think of her manuals and didn’t care. Since a certain little rumor had started – not by her – she had been fully booked and had started taking Sundays and Mondays off as a weekend because she needed them to recoup her energy and restock her shelves.
Lacey wasn’t in the kitchen, and Tiffany wondered if the cat sensed another impending health inspection. Or something worse. Then the presence of something else hit her full-on with a wave of garlic-dirty feet-sulphur smoke. Even worse, it stood between her and the bacon, which needed to be taken off the stove before it went from perfectly chewy-crispy to burnt.
Get away from the food, Spirit,
she said and grabbed the clear crystal quartz-tipped wand she kept by the door.
It only laughed at her. Great. She decided to try a different strategy.
Who are you, and what do you want?
It moved across the room at lightning speed, away from her, thankfully. Most nasties didn’t like to give their true identities away. She rescued the bacon and put it on paper towels to drain, then quickly transferred it to a flowery serving plate.
I’ll be back for you in a second.
In the main room, she served the bacon and poured a second round of blood orange mimosas to tide the girls over in case things got interesting.
But when she returned to the kitchen, the ghost was gone, and Lacey the white Persian cat had reappeared.
Some help you are,
Tiffany said and picked up the cat. Lacey rubbed her soft head against Tiffany’s chin. She only did that when something had really disturbed her.
Yeah, that was some nasty.
She walked to the blueberry punch-bowl cake. Lacey lifted her head, squirmed out of Tiffany’s arms, and dropped to the counter. Before Tiffany could shriek, the cat knocked the cake on to the floor with a splendid crash.
Oh, Lacey.
Tiffany bent to pick up a large piece of what had been her favorite small crystal punch bowl, but the smell assailed her again. She swiped a bit of the whipped cream off the glass and touched the tip of her tongue to it. The cream, which had been fresh the night before when she’d assembled the cake, had gone beyond spoiled to rancid. Lacey twined against Tiffany’s calves.
Tiffany allowed herself to sag against the counter in relief. I would’ve served it to them, and oh, you’re a clever kitty.
She cleaned as much of the mess as she could quickly and washed her hands.
Now what? She looked around the kitchen for quick inspiration and poked her head into the breakfast room, where the bride opened the naughty present her friends didn’t want to give her in front of elderly mothers and aunts.
Is everything okay?
Amber, the one who had set up the party, asked. With her fair skin, black hair, and green eyes, she likely had some of the Blood in her.
Fine. Just had a little kitchen accident.
Amber arched an eyebrow. That tends to happen around Lydia.
Well, whatever it was ruined dessert.
Tiffany didn’t mind being short with the girl, whom she now sensed was hiding something.
Got a backup?
Always.
Good.
Amber nodded toward Lydia, who blushed at receiving a purple vibrator. I’m going to convince her to talk to you later.
Tiffany pondered that cryptic statement while she whipped cream cheese frosting for the chocolate cupcakes she’d baked for a later party. They were easy enough she could make another batch quickly.
Amber and Lydia stayed after the party to organize gifts. Tiffany cleared the dishes, her long blonde hair tied back and out of her face. The kitchen always got hot when she baked.
Lydia,
Amber said and inclined her head toward Tiffany, who pretended not to hear.
It’s nothing, Amber.
"Then why don’t you tell her what happened with dessert, Ms.