Page 69 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“And make French toast?” Simon pleaded.

As she whisked eggs and fried bread, Talula explained the nuances of small-town politics.

“So peasants—” Simon began.

“People,” Talula corrected.

“Peasants,” Simon continued. “No matter how depraved their motives, how limited their literacy, or how foul their odor, can attend this ‘town hall meeting’ and yell about their problems with someone else’s business?”

“Yes.”

“And if enough peasants—”

“People.”

“—have problems, the town may act according to their will?”

“Yes.”

“Even if the peasants are blithering idiots?”

Talula flipped the French toast with a sigh. “Welcome to democracy.”

“Madness!” Simon barked. “Samhain is a necessary function of the Blue Moon. It’s the only time many magical beings are able to see family, loved ones, their homelands.”

“I know, but we can’t exactly share that.”

Simon growled. “Secrecy is both essential and infuriating in our line of work sometimes, young sorceress.”

“Now you see why we need Dahlia,” Talula said, removing the French toast from the pan. “She has experience with marketing, which is like…a mass messaging strategy.”

“I don’t know,” Simon said, shifting his weight from paw to paw. “That would require her to spend more time in the café. I’m still concerned about your training.”

“We both know protecting Samhain and the Blue Moon is more important than me learning to conjure a persimmon. But on that note…” Talula set down the breakfast plates just out of Simon’s reach. She lifted her pointer finger, concentrating. Instantly, witchfire blazed to life on Talula’s fingertip. She aimed the flame at the sugar-and-pumpkin custard layered on top of the French toast. Under the magical fire, the sugar crystallized into a brown, glassy crust. Talula pulled back and gazed at it with pride.

Simon licked his chops. “Point taken.”

“I promise we can keep training. But let’s help Samhain first.”

Meanwhile, Talula thought to herself, I’ll keep working on translating the magic cookbook. Maybe there’s more it can show me about my magic.

But Simon didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway.

“Hrmph,” Simon said, but his eyes had been stuck on the steaming pumpkin crème-brûlée French toast since Talula had torched it with witchfire. “I suppose you can’t get worse at sorcery.”

In the spirit of collaboration, Talula decided to not take offense at that. “So you’re on board with Dahlia helping us?”

“Yes.” Simon flicked his ears. “Now bring me that breakfast!”

Talula slid the plate within reach and watched as Simon tore into his food with ecstatic barks. Talula, grinning, pulled out her phone and began to text Dahlia.

17

Dahlia arrived at the café like a curly-haired tornado, armed to the teeth with the Blue Moon’s new marketing strategy. As Talula made cocoa, Dahlia settled into the sofa. She popped open her laptop to a slide deck titled, “So Your Small Town Hates You: Reputation Management 101.”

“Your problem is brand awareness,” Dahlia explained as the animated letters cartwheeled across the screen. Simon watched, mesmerized.

“I didn’t even know we had a brand?” Talula replied meekly, setting cocoa and leftover French toast on the coffee table.