A Wreck of Witches
Um þessa rafbók
I’m the plus-size witch who just wants to putter around my magical-plant nursery in peace, but nooo. The universe is conspiring against me, I swear.
The newbie witch down the street just went missing—five minutes before she was gonna give me a ride to our book club. Something magical is stalking through my mundane neighborhood, attacking my neighbors, and I’ve got everybody and their ghost dogs trying to “help” me out.
Pssh, like I can’t handle things by myself.
Oh, and my house—with a mischievous mind of its own—has decided this is the time to get up to more antics.
Just gotta wrangle all this nonsense before the Unawares figure out magic’s real…
It’ll be easy-peasy, right?
Um höfundinn
Nia grew up devouring fantasy about powerful girls with magic and swords, humor and kindness (and let’s be honest, that’s still the majority of what she reads… and writes…)
She spends her spare time chasing after every fuzzy animal that will allow her to pet it, and will hurl any book where the dog dies across the room with righteous fury. And then possibly burn it. And toast marshmallows over it. And make s’mores.
Delicious.
When she’s not enjoying s’mores, you can find her worshipping the sun, geeking out over a game, or frantically scribbling down a conversation between two characters in her head. (Yes, she is crazy, but she doesn’t mind.)
