Being a forty-something, newly divorced, single mom is getting easier every day. Thankfully, so is being a witch, you know, when monsters and power-hungry sorcerers aren’t trying to kill me. And they aren’t the only ones who want to take me down. Too bad for all of them. I don’t die easy.

Now that my nero-craft has been triggered, I’m off to the Iron Grove, along with my hot druid boyfriend and his violently awesome sister, to learn magic from the best of the best. Of course, not every druid or tru-craft witch is happy about me gaining another element. There is even talk of a test they want me to take that sounds about as much fun as alien probing.

No, thank you.

I’ll have to rely on allies, old and new, if I want to survive the incoming tide of enemies who want me to drown in my own magic.

Literally.

As a forty-three-year-old, newly divorced, single mom, I know two things for certain, starting over sucks, and magic isn’t real. At least that’s what I thought. I mean, starting over really does stink, but when it comes to magic, I have to rethink everything.

I’ve spent the last year since my ex left me going through the motions. Get up. Work. Care for a grumpy teenager. Cook dinner. Go to bed. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Nothing changes... Until it does.

After bidding on a box of old books at an estate auction, I’m experiencing changes.

And I’m not talking about menopause.

My garden gnome Linda has come to life. No, really. Her name is Linda, and she never shuts up. A chonky cat with a few secrets of his own has adopted me. And a gorgeous professor of the occult tells me I’m a witch.

Right now, I’m not sure who’s crazier—me, Linda or the hottie professor.

If this is my new reality, it’s nature’s cruel midlife trick. I’m learning fast that earth spells might be easy, but they aren’t cheap. All magic exacts a toll, and if I don’t master the elements, the elements will be the death of me.

Literally.

Being a forty-something, newly divorced, single mom comes with its challenges. Finding out I’m a witch is just another one of them. As a new practitioner of tru-craft, I’ve been told that every witch is called to a single element, and they are sent down one of two paths, the Fade or the Bright. Right?

Of course, every rule has the exception, and in this case, it’s me.

My grimoire has revealed a new element I have to learn, and I am walking the ditch between the two paths. I’m going to need the help of a grouchy gnome, a cuddly imp, a fiery ifrit, and a hottie druid to keep me from burning down my life and everything around it.

My new reality is nature's cruel midlife trick. Surviving Earth magic without blowing up my entire world has been hard enough, if I don’t master Fire, I’ll go down in flames.

Literally.

Being a forty-something, newly divorced, single mom can have its ups and downs, but discovering that I possess elemental witch magic has turned the downs deadly.

Most days, I’m just trying to raise my kid, and not die. So, when a troupe of randy pixies gather in my garden, demanding I protect them, I’m like, bitch, I can barely protect myself. On top of that, I have to worry about monster attacks from enemies new and old.

My grimoire keeps talking in riddles. No help there. Linda the Gnome is more surly than usual. Even less help. Thank heavens for my hottie druid boyfriend who has my back, front, and side, and a fat cat named Bob who calms me better than a prescription mood stabilizer.

Tru-craft has been nature’s midlife gift that keeps on trying to kill me.

Earth nearly turned me to dust.

Fire almost extinguished my flame.

If I don’t master this new element, Air is going to blow me into the next life.

Literally.