Title: A fragile Spell

Series: Magical Mishaps, Book One

Author: T. M. Kirk

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/17/2026

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 226

Genre: Paranormal Fantasy, FF romance, witches, magic/magic users, artist, glassblower, businessperson, Oregon Coast

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Description

Sangria Christmas Lewis, or “Ria” to literally everyone except her mom, never wanted to be a witch. So when she gets fired from her dream job in marketing and is forced to move back home to Seacliff, she’s less than thrilled. That is, until she gets the idea to offer destiny love spells online: marketing and magic combined. If only she hadn’t screwed up her first spell and made her client fall in love with her. That’s what a witch gets when they abandon their magic for years though.

The small coastal town of Seacliff has captivated the heart of glassblower Lissa Parker. Unfortunately, the marketing company her studio hired to save their failing business dropped them days before they were supposed to launch a secret campaign. With six months to save her studio, Lissa considers it fate that she stumbles across a woman she recognizes from the marketing company. The fact that the woman claims to be a witch only adds to her curiosity. How exactly does one go from marketing to magic?

Lissa needs to find out what Ria knows about her old company’s secret marketing campaign so she can save her studio. And Ria needs to figure out how to remove the love spell from her first-ever client. Both women need to learn how to stop keeping secrets and embrace the passion they can’t help but feel for each other.

Excerpt

A Fragile Spell
T.M. Kirk © 2026
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Ria

“You’re fired.”

Ria blinked at the curmudgeon across the desk from her. A jaunty rendition of “Jingle Bells” was blaring throughout the office, so perhaps she hadn’t heard her boss correctly.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “but I don’t quite understand. Could you repeat that?”

Frank Mercer furrowed his already profusely wrinkled brow. “Apologies. You’re right. That damn memo just went out last week too. What was I supposed to say?”

He tapped a finger on his desk, his yellowed nails strangely longer than even Ria’s. She focused on that gnarled old finger as if her fate lingered in the milliseconds between each tap. The blinking glow from the red and green lights hanging outside his office cast his face into a disturbing contrast of holiday cheer and demonic horror, each tap coinciding with a shift in color.

Flash of green. Happy Holidays.

Flash of red. Steal your soul.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Her own fingers itched to give a little flick toward Frank. Nothing major, just a tiny little spell to nudge his brain toward whatever he’d actually meant to say. Surely he couldn’t be firing her. Nobody fired a person in the middle of the office holiday party. Not even the Grinch was that callous.

She twisted a finger through one of her long red curls as the itch in her hand grew stronger the longer her boss appeared to war with himself on word choice. She might have given in if it weren’t for the firm knowledge that handcast spells were not her forte. More often than not, they went horribly wrong. Handcasting was a “use it or lose it” type of magic, and Ria locked herself on the “lose it” track years ago. Right about the time she joined Mercer Marketing and put her witchy ways in the past. Potions were pretty much the only thing she could manage these days, since those were only a slight step beyond basic science, but she didn’t exactly carry little vials of revenge in the pockets of her pencil skirt.

“Oh, right,” Mr. Mercer finally said. “Now I remember. You’re not fired.”

Ria breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“We’re letting you go.”

Ria sucked every last bit of oxygen back into her lungs. “You’re doing what?” she protested, still unable to fathom the words she was hearing. “But it’s Christmas, sir!”

“Oh, we don’t say that anymore either. It’s ‘the holiday season’ now.”

That’s what he was focusing on?

“But it’s the holiday season, sir!” she shot back.

“Yes, yes, I understand it’s in poor taste to let someone go around this time of year, but the reality is that the world is changing, Miss Lewis. Big marketing firms like ours are losing out to these new young influencers. They’re cheaper and will shill anything for a few bucks. We have to cut costs, and unfortunately, that comes in the way of junior marketing agents like yourself.”

Of course she would be the one on the chopping block. She was just the person who did all the work for none of the credit. That alone should have been enough to have her shouting at Frank about how stupid and short-minded he was being. She willed herself to find that inferno deep within, the anger she knew existed at least a little bit even if it rarely came out. If she was going to be fired, then surely this was the time to tell her wretched little goblin of a boss exactly what she thought of him.

“But sir… I’ve been here almost five years.” Her words came out meek and pathetic. So much for the inferno. She’d summoned less fire than a matchstick in a windstorm.

“Almost being the keyword,” Mr. Mercer replied.

Almost. Ria turned the word over in her head. Why would almost matter… Then it hit her.

“Are you telling me I won’t get any severance pay?”

He didn’t even look the slightest bit ashamed. “Severance is only available after five years of employment,” he replied. “I’m afraid the holiday bonus is also only available to those still employed as of the December twentieth paycheck.”

Ria’s eyes flickered to the calendar on the wall behind her boss. December nineteenth. No severance. No holiday bonus. She was completely and utterly screwed.

Mr. Mercer reached into a drawer, then slid an envelope across the desk. “You’ll find Mercer Marketing isn’t completely without heart though. There’s a little something in here as a thank you for your years of loyal service.”

She glanced down at the envelope, at the handful of visible words peeking through the little plastic window.

Sangria Christmas Lewis

Termination Notice

She had been holding onto a tiny sliver of hope that everything was some huge mistake. Frank Mercer barely knew her name after all. She was just Jim Ginatti’s assistant. Maybe he confused her with some other low-level employee. One who didn’t single-handedly design and execute over forty successful marketing campaigns in only five years.

Seeing her name on that slip of paper, though, popped the hopeful balloon inside her, leaving only the tattered remains of a long-held dream. When she’d gotten the call to report to Mr. Mercer’s office, she’d thought it was for a promotion. She’d assumed Jim finally told everyone how she was the real brains behind his success, and she was about to get some much-deserved recognition along with a pay increase. Something she desperately needed, given her current situation.

Instead, she got fired. No, not fired. “Let go.” As if the softer verbiage in turn somehow softened the blow. One would think a marketing firm could have been a little more creative. Knowing they would suffer without her ingenious ideas did little to improve her mood though.

“What about my clients?” She had just put the finishing touches on a campaign that would catapult a small business in her hometown into a whole new level of growth. Without her there to implement it…

“Jim has your files and will handle everything,” Mr. Mercer replied. “All the worthwhile clients will be assured of their continued representation. We will ensure the transition is seamless.”

Nodding, she took the envelope and rose from the chair on unsteady legs. It killed her to think she wouldn’t be around to see her hard work pay off, but as long as Jim followed her plan, the campaign would still be effective. A small consolation, but something to cling to when she had nothing else.

Don’t slink away, a little voice in the back of her head whispered. Make a scene. This asshole ruined your life.

She lingered in front of Mr. Mercer’s desk, debating.

Don’t do anything irrational, another voice whispered. You’ll need to get a good job reference at least.

Frank steepled his hands and eyed her warily. “Once again, Miss Lewis, I do apologize for the timing of this news. Based on your middle name, I’m sure the holidays are something you find much joy in. Perhaps embracing that will help soothe some of the sting.”

It wouldn’t. In fact, Ria hated Christmas. Despite her mother’s frequent declarations that it was truly the most wonderful time of the year, Ria found the pressure to be cheery and bright far too overwhelming. An opinion currently being cemented as she warred with the decision to ease out of her old life quietly or go down swinging.

Cast a spell, that naughty voice urged. Who cares if it goes wrong? Make his hideous crook nose even larger.

Her fingers tingled again, like tiny little pinpricks under the skin.

You don’t cast anymore, the other, more rational, voice protested. Keep your dignity and exit gracefully.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Mercer said, nodding toward the door, “please clean out your desk quietly and efficiently. I do have other matters to attend to.”

He waved his hand in a clear dismissal, and it was that small gesture that snapped something inside her. Five years of hard work reduced to a simple flick of the wrist.

“You know what, Mr. Mercer?” she said, the spark inside her growing, her rage finally begging to be unleashed.

“What, Miss Lewis?”

The words hovered on the tip of her tongue. All the things she could finally say. She could tell him he was making the biggest mistake of his life. She could tell him his company would crash and burn without her doing all the work of three executives. She could tell him he smelled like moldy brie, and people took a roundabout way to the break room just to avoid the stench from passing his office.

In the end, the fire blazing in her green eyes fizzled out. She wasn’t a fighter and would never be the type to make waves.

“Happy holidays,” she said meekly, her shoulders drooping in disappointment that she couldn’t even manage a simple “Screw you.”

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Meet the Author

T. M. Kirk is the author of the fantasy romance Onyx Palace series as well as the paranormal rom-com Don’t Bite Me series. Originally from Alaska, she is a rolling stone constantly on the move, eternally searching for that perfect place to call home. Currently residing in California with her partner and two fur babies, her days are spent riding her motorcycle, traveling to new places, and creating fantasy and paranormal worlds as a much needed escape from reality.

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