Leafshire Cove Monsters

I have one talent, and it's not relationships. It's weaving. But I have one chance to keep my cozy little life in the magical Leafshire Cove, and it's going to require a partner. I swore off romance—my last relationship was a humiliating disaster. But to enter the mayor's tapestry contest and win the contract attached, I need a date, thanks to a ridiculous ancient faerie spell requiring attendants to bring a potential partner. When my frenemy suggests the new watchtower guard, a growly gargoyle named Romulus who never speaks and hides inside a massive cloak, I think she's lost her mind.

I am respected in Leafshire Cove because I perform magic exactly the way it should be performed—with a witch's intuition. My spells are precise, and they're either wonderfully practical or completely fun. Regardless, my magic is true magic. On market days, my cart always has the longest line. That is, until he arrives. An arrogant, foolish minotaur with a ridiculously posh accent sets up shop right beside me. And even though his magic is only a mishmash of tacky illusions and over-the-top displays, townsfolk flock to him. Infuriating.

I love my quiet life in Leafshire Cove—early mornings, the scent of cinnamon and honey, the simple joy of kneading dough while the village slowly wakes. Everything in my world is warm, steady, safe. Except Cyrus, the dragon shifter next door. With his roguish grin and endless charm, Cyrus runs a rowdy pub, flirts shamelessly with almost everyone, and lives for adventure. Our friendship is built on teasing banter and unspoken understanding.