People suck. Magic sucks harder.
After a two-decade marriage ends with my husband's disappearance, I'm left to wonder: did he run off with another woman? Or is he dead?
And which one is worse?
Before I can answer that, I turn into a chicken. A real one. The kind that fears KFC.
I want nothing to do with Marshmallow's magic community, but somehow, I keep getting pulled into its drama.
There are only two choices—keep hiding from the new reality of my life, or embrace the weird, the magic, and the feathers.
It's taken forty-three years for me to become the person I was always meant to be. Chicken shifter, witch, or whatever the new me is, I'm going to rock it. Anyone who doesn't like it can cluck off.
