Croakies has cracked? How is that possible? This is going to be a nightmare if it spreads into the city. I’ve got to figure out what’s going on before that happens, or Croakies isn’t going to be the only thing that cracks! Just when I thought I was starting to hit my stride in this magical artifact librarian gig, everything turns topsy turvy. Several dangerous and toxic artifacts escape from the Powers That Be and one of them lands at Croakies. Because, of course it does. The artifact has cracked Croakies right down the middle and there doesn’t seem to be any way to fix it. In a desperate and potentially deadly move, my crew and I are going on a quest for magical objects that the resident out-of-the-box thinkers believe might seal the crack. I have no idea if the items will solve our problem. But I’m desperate enough to give it a try. I only hope we all survive to find the cure.

The heart holds the potential for great love…and a deadly need to protect it. Love potion? Really? I don’t have enough trouble dealing with a cranky assistant, a mouthy frog, an opinionated cat, and a hobgoblin who thinks getting smacked upside the head is the best kind of fun? Now I’m dealing with a love potion that turns a delightful human emotion into a death sentence. Banshee bunions! As if I didn’t already have enough trouble with my love life. Now I have to save someone else from dying of love. This magical librarian gig is going to be the death of me. Or…you know…of someone else.

Good parenting advice: Only allow your small frog, cat, and hobgoblin limited and supervised television time, or risk stunting their mental and physical growth. Yeah, it might already be too late for that… It seemed like good, innocent fun. A trip back to a simpler time, a fun jaunt to the “good old days”. It turned out to be anything but harmless. The “kids” loved the old, black and white shows. But, per usual at Croakies, things devolved quickly, transforming “quiet” time into a heart-pounding adventure. And of course, as you’d expect, the frog, the cat, and the hobgoblin are right in the middle of it all. I’m a total derf at this whole parenting thing. And my “children” are brats. Holy flippin’ frog flatulence. So much for the good old days…

Ancient Chinese proverb says, give cat mouse and give frog fly, they'll soothe your monsters so you won't die. Okay, maybe I just made that up. But I'll try anything at this point. Croakies is suddenly being overrun by monsters. Yeah. Monsters. And I have no clue where they’re coming from. Are they tied to something we’ve done in the past? Do they have anything to do with the strange phone calls I’ve been getting from a really prickly local author? Most importantly, how are we going to explain to the humans about the appearance of a certain giantnormous blue monster flinging car-sized cookies around? Where did all these squirrel squattin’ songbirds come from? And, for the love of the goddess’s favorite spanks, why is there ice all over the floor? Sigh. The frog and the cat? Yeah, they’re really pretty useless on this one. But at least they’re living the good life thanks to my tireless efforts to feed, house, and clean up after them and their naughty friend Hobs. Yay me. Mega monster boogers! This magic wrangling gig is for the birds. And the frogs. And the cats. And the hobgoblins. And, apparently, for the monsters hiding at Croakies.

This is no boring librarian shushing people from behind a desk. This librarian corrals rogue magic. But more importantly, she has a frog and a cat, and she’s not afraid to use them! I knew when I woke up with a migraine that things were going to get interesting. As a magical artifact wrangler, it’s not an unusual way to start my day. But I had no idea how bad it was going to get. Until I found a frog sitting in my teacup. Even that, I could explain to myself if I had to. After all, I have a creative mind. But when the frog started talking to me, yeah, I was pretty sure I’d taken the wrong kind of pill that morning for my headache. If only I’d realized then what I know now. The talking frog was just the beginning of my problems. And quite a beginning it was!

The Pied Piper shall lead them all astray…A captured audience helpless to its sway. The pipe’s infectious music bids them come…and come they will…two by two or one by one. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder, life upped the strangeness quota to a never-before-seen level. When a long line of critters, dazed and seemingly oblivious, marched past Croakies, I knew we had a situation on our hands. Actually…if you counted being unwillingly affianced to a big old pink ogre…I had more than one situation. Le sigh. Then someone died. A king declared war on Enchanted. And my situation became a crisis. It would be up to me to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice while wrangling the rogue pipe artifact he used for his nefarious deeds. Buffalo buttocks! I really do need a vacation.

Magical chaos, old enemies, new adversaries, and danger around every corner…I HATE this time of year! Okay, I’ll admit it, this is my least favorite time of year. Yeah, I understand the enchantment of the season…I get that…but most people don’t have jobs that involve wrangling magic. During the last three months of the year, magical influences run rampant. And that means a lot more work for me. And this year is the worst of all. Why you ask? Because I’m not only trying to wrangle the out-of-control magic artifacts flying around all over the place. This year, I also have to try to keep a magical cat and a talking frog out of trouble. Goddess take the wheel. Things are about to get really ugly.